FISH STORY

The sun had just risen above the foothills, shedding a golden light over the misty valley when I arrived at the boat launch. A myriad of birds chirped in the dense canopy of trees, an almost deafening din as I gathered my equipment from the truck. Leaving the once-paved parking lot, I took to the dampened trail that led towards the river. The sound of rushing water began to fill the air, and I could taste the sweet dampness of it as I approached the dock. Through the sunlit fog I was able to make out the silhouettes of a single boat and three men loading several large tackle boxes into it.
The boat was large for a riverboat I thought, about twenty-five feet in length. Warm smiles accompanied introductions as we finished loading our fishing gear. While we were making ourselves comfortable in the vinyl fold up seats, we could hear the sound of fish jumping all around us. George, the deck hand, loosed the ropes from their mooring and we were on our way.
I had forgotten how a...