The planets aligned today and I was able to go fishing. Basically family was not going to be around after I got out of work. So when the workday was over I rushed home, grabbed the fishing gear and headed out to Cranberry Bog home to Swezey Pond. Swezey Pond is a little fishing hole located in Riverhead close to where I live. The place is primarily very shallow and the lily pads hide that fact well. Still there is a channel and a few deep holes scattered around the pond that can provide for decent fishing. I discovered this place on a fieldtrip with my college class when we went there to look at the Cedar Swamp trees that grow around the pond along with the native aquatic and carnivorous plants. I have not fished there in years, but for some reason it came to mind as a good spot to hit. Now this is the third time fishing and my rustiness is showing.
After parking the car I looked at the temperature, 92 degrees in the shade, nice. Still nothing was gonna stop me. I grabbed my gear out of the trunk, put on my swampers and started down the trail. Since there was no wind the flies were pretty bad. Most were not the biting type but since I was already sweating bullets they stuck my bare skin, not a good feeling. After a short walk I laid eyes on Swezey Pond. Well as you can see its lily pad central on earth, the place has not changed.
The only open water had a rather large snapping turtle swimming around causing the fish to swim away. I tired throwing a frog, but no takers and the worm gave me the same results. Time to move on, you won this round turtle. The next opening was in a more flooded section with a small channel running through it. It was shady, but since it was mainly bog, the mosquitoes were ruthless. Running away from that spot I managed to get back on the main trail and start to walk to the next spot. I came to the old footbridge where I could see a nice Largemouth swimming around, but since I had made a mad dash away from the skeeters, he was spooked. So back on the trail I go. Coming to another footbridge, I noticed someone placed a stone gargoyle overlooking the stream. Perhaps it meant something, or perhaps someone just wanted to get rid of a bad Christmas present? At least he was not getting mauled by bugs.
The next area I came to was by the weir and sure enough it was chocked out; still had to fish it. I placed my gear down and started to cast and walk in the water. I watched as a few wakes charged towards the frog, but nothing happened. Looking back now I should have pitched a jig or tied on one of the many mosquitos that were still feasting on me. To make things worse, I stepped in the wrong spot, my foot sank in the mud and the water spilled into the boot, great. Sweating and chewed up I got back on the trail and started the speedy jaunt back to the car. Still not wanting to be defeated I decided to try the open spot one more time. I tied on a pumpkinseed worm, gave a light pitch by some pads and waited. I noticed the line move ever so slightly and felt a light bump on the rod blank. I lifted the rod and set the hook, fish on. After a really short fight, a Pumpkinseed Sunfish showed himself and I felt great. Hey, a thirty something fisherman that does not fish much cant be choosy. After taking a picture I released him to fight another day. Beating a hasty retreat back to the car I could not help feeling good that even though it was only 45 minutes, I still managed to get out fishing and catch a fish. Perhaps next trip the big one will show herself.
Back about 13 years ago my first summer internship with the state was being a creel clerk. Every day was spent going out on the water and counting fisherman and letting them elaborate on their fishing day. Back then I was 21 and fishing was my life and had been since I was 13. So that was not such a bad job. One thing that kept coming up though was the absence of fisherman and women in their mid 20’s to late 30’s. You would see kids fishing with their parents, the college student (such as myself), the retired guy or my favorite, the fisherman escaping his wife. Don’t laugh, people actually told me that. Every once in a while there would be someone in the absent age bracket, but it was not a common occurrence; like sightings of Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster. After some peering over past data, the results seemed to repeat themselves throughout the years. Why was this? Thankfully there were a few sportsman in the building where my office was who did not fish or hunt much anymore. After a bit of questioning it became apparent why people stopped fishing and hunting. Around that point in life most people set out to find careers, significant others and have children. With all of that comes more responsibility and less time to enjoy pastimes. To a 21 year old this was funny and there was often a lunch break that included fun was being poked at the "whipped married guy", but little did I know though what would happen to me.
At the age of 22 I became a college graduate and started my full time career in the state. Unfortunately counting fisherman was not in the job description anymore, but it was a stable job. Fishing was still a big part of my life, though not as big since my free time grew less with the career. Still, I was out on the water more time then not. Things were good but something was missing. My dating life was nothing really to talk about, a girl here and there but nothing that lasted too long and it would usually end over fishing. That was the norm for years until an email arrived that changed the game. Now dancing was always something I wanted to learn, so when an email came about a big dance going on at a local bar, it was a no brainer. After arriving I realized that it was a partner dance and that a free lesson was going on. Figuring that my cover had already been paid, might as well get my monies worth. Well the fun that was had that night coupled with the nice people that were there, made me want to pursue it more. Soon even less time was devoted to fishing and more towards dancing which led to a very solid dating life. Fishing became even less when my vacations started to be dancing ones. Just shy of a year, at the age of 25 turning 26 I met my future wife at a dance and fishing once again took a hit. My favorite pastime had become more distant from me but it never was completely gone. At the age of 31 I became a dad, the best day of my life and also the last time fishing would ever be more then the occasional short trip. For the next few years if I managed to get a half dozen trips a year, it was a lot. I became that guy on the other side of the lunch table.
Now at 34 my time to myself is still very limited. Between kids parties, keeping life alive with my wife and maintaining a home, there is a lot of responsibility going on. Still every once in a while I am able to go fishing and this is my blog, the thirty something fisherman.
