Passing Along a Loaded Fishing Pole

So there I was…a skinny, freckled, awkward pre-teen with a nice summer sunburn walking out to a lakeside beach (maybe it was a river?) in Yellowstone National Park with my older brother, a cousin or two and my Uncle Frank.

We were going fishing in a place where catching a fish requires very little skill.  In fact, not catching a fish takes a special degree of incompetence. Continue reading “Passing Along a Loaded Fishing Pole”