Reasons to fish

Reasons to quit should never outnumber all the reasons why

Fried crappie, tater rounds and onion rings await on this dinner plate, rewards of an eventful pursuit of a fish that many anglers hail as one of Arkansas’ most flavorful species.
Fried crappie, tater rounds and onion rings await on this dinner plate, rewards of an eventful pursuit of a fish that many anglers hail as one of Arkansas’ most flavorful species.

Merle Haggard and Willie Nelson recorded a tune in 1983 that was penned by Haggard and titled “Reasons to Quit.” The pair of so-called country outlaws sang of a vice or two they shared and lamented on their inability to stop. While Merle and Willie wanted to cease the smoking and drinking, I definitely don’t want to find an anglers’ rehab program.

This spring, however, I have opted out of two opportunities to wet a hook with some of my friends. Unfortunately for me, I was shackled to some chores around the house and on the farm that kept me from occupying one end of their flatbottom boat.

Still, even without having grabbed my rods, reels and tackle box, I found myself realizing why it is that I fish. And, just as importantly, I remembered why it is that I get so much enjoyment from sharing these outdoor adventures with my wife, other relatives, friends and friends-to-be.

The events that occurred on my buddy’s two outings set my mind in motion about a story idea: the motivating factors that push me to chase crappie, bass, bream, catfish and more wherever they might be swimming in our Natural State waters.

The first trip of the year I turned down saw my longtime friend Kenneth Mayes and his son, Garrett, both of Little Rock, bring Garrett’s friend Phillip Nguyen, also of Little Rock, my direction to slide a boat off the banks of a southeast Arkansas reservoir. I had worked 11 days straight and found myself exhausted when the alarm clock signaled that morning would arrive soon. So I texted my intent to sit on the sidelines for the day, figuring I had some honey-do’s to catch up on anyway.

Garrett’s buddy went home at day’s end with an ice chest that included a good mess of largemouth bass and black crappie. Among them was the young man’s largest catch to date, a green trout — as the Cajuns call largemouths — that pushed 5 pounds.

As Kenneth and I visited by phone that evening, he enthralled me with cast-by-cast tales of the day, including Phillip’s big fish. I remarked that the day meant another memory made. For Kenneth and me, that list of made memories is a long one — a list that we as fishing and hunting buddies began to cobble together trip by trip back in the late 1980s.

A couple of weeks later in a similar setting, Kenneth set sail with his brother, Jimmy, and Jimmy’s son Mathias. The prospect of slow fishing, enough wind to make for choppy water and chilly conditions, and the attraction (tongue-in-cheek comment) of fishing with a 6-year-old made it much easier for me to reason that I needed to spend some time cutting the grass and working in the garden.

By afternoon, however, the fishing conditions had improved. Kenneth and Jimmy, who lives in Maumelle,

patterned the fish, and Jimmy’s little one reeled in almost every single one of the dozens they caught. I guess that Mathias is now just another youngster we will have ruined through infecting them with piscus morbus. That’s Latin for the fishing bug.

Yes, making memories and sharing the outdoors with newcomers — young or old — are two firm cornerstones of why I love fishing so much. One of my close cousin’s two children are grown now, but I still vividly remember the glow on their faces as they reeled in giant bluegill after giant bluegill one summer day near Hazen.

There’s plenty of other reasons why I fish, though.

Out on a farm reservoir, a bayou or an oxbow lake, I find myself to be much more at peace than I do under the artificial lights of an office or in the midst of rush-hour city traffic. Yes, I’m definitely more of a country boy.

Of course, the peace of mind of which I speak is often better when shared with those to whom we are close. So, when the fish aren’t biting, conversations inevitably develop, rising to the surface like a bass smashing a topwater plug. Talk ranges from the obvious topic of what we should do to wake up the fish to our belief in a creator and how much we see him in our surroundings.

As a fruitful trip comes to a close, there are also exchanges about who’ll be keeping what from the day’s haul and when the next fish fry might be penciled in on the calendar. Without a doubt, one of the greater benefits of fishing is the end product that works its way to our dining-room tables. It is truly hard to beat a plate full of crappie fillets, fries, homemade hushpuppies, coleslaw, sliced red onions, pickles ….

When out on the water, there are also moments in time that few ever get to experience. A few years ago, my motley crew and I stumbled across a wounded deer lying on the bank of a cypress and tupelo slough. I don’t recommend interacting with wildlife on an up-close, personal basis. However, something whispered to me that this day and this situation were different.

I spoke quietly to the young buck, the knots of his velvet covered antlers sprouting fresh from atop his head with the arrival of spring. As I conversed with him, he rose from where he’d chosen to hide in a tangle of vines next to a cypress tree. I scuttled the boat ever closer into the shallows, trying to reassure him with every paddle stroke as he hobbled toward the water’s edge to meet me.

It was then that I noted a severe wound to one of his rear legs. It appeared someone had taken a shot at him — an action that was likely illegal based on both the time of year and the time of day the shot was probably taken. Yet, here he was willing to overcome his instincts and inch closer to the humans before him.

His reward was substantial. We had a variety of snacks in the boat, ranging from dried fruit to granola bars to PB&J sandwiches. Our reward was a handful of photographs of a magical moment and the chance to look nature in the eyes and be as close to understanding a wild animal as humanly possible. Both the deer and our crew also relished the petting that accompanied the free meal.

For me, fishing is so much more than just its Webster’s Dictionary definition.

I have glimpsed the dark side of nature as a large water snake dispatched a young bullfrog. I have belly-laughed as a family of river otters fussed over who would be next to use their water slide. I have been immersed in sunrises and sunsets, the changing of the seasons and a myriad of life lessons about perseverance, patience and positivity, just to name a few.

So what motivates you to wet a hook? I suspect many of you reap the same benefits from angling as me. All you need is a good place to cast a line. For information on fishing in Arkansas, including public waters, visit www.agfc.com and look under the “Fishing and Boating” header on the website’s main page.

Staff writer James K. Joslin can be reached at (501) 399-3693 or jjoslin@arkansasonline.com.

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