I sure have a burning urge to go fishing! It is worse right now because our winter is unusually warm this year. Match that with three hundred days of sunshine a year, and it is hard to remember that summer fishing is not all that great to start with, but winter fishing is worse.

Like other outdoor people who are starting to have had enough of winter and want spring to get here quickly, I too wander the sporting goods stores and sporting goods sections of stores. Unfortunately even that small fishing fix is short lived. My fishing rods and reels are in good shape, and there is not much in the way of new tackle.

Reading the online want ads of the sporting goods section is not helping. There are used rods, reels, boats, and motors for sale, probably by desperate sellers, but I don’t need any more equipment.

I read the fishing web sites, wishing spring would arrive a few days faster. I also think about where I would enjoy fishing this year. Those pictures of really big fish don’t do a lot to satiate the need to have a fishing rod in my hands with a fish at the end of the line.

I used to think of being able to go to the west coast and do some ocean fishing. I was able to go a few times. Fishing for Rock Cod, and Ling Cod in three hundred feet of water was hard work. The five pound sinker needed to get and keep the squid we were using as bait on the bottom did not make it any easier. It was a lot like work actually, as the Rock Cod never survived the trip up from the bottom. I only caught one Ling Cod.

I was able to go once in the summer on a half day trip and we fished for Sand Bass – I think they were called. They were a blast to catch and I remember limiting out on them. I also caught a number of Barracuda. They are about the same as Northern Pike, and about as mean as Musky in fresh water fishing.

I enjoy the way ocean fish fight! One little three or four pound Sand Bass gave the fight of a much larger freshwater fish. The fish were much more aggressive when taking the bait too. There was no little tap, wait ten seconds, tap, tap. It was always smash, grab, and run.

Of course losing fish big Barracuda was a little frustrating. I think I have a nice fish hooked. It suddenly feels like it is really big because it just became really serious about putting up a fight. Then the line goes limp, and I would reel up a fish head with no body attached.

Eating all that fish afterwards is the perfect end to a great day of fishing. The Barbecue would be going with thirty or forty pounds of fish on the grates. Family and friends would be over drinking a cold beer or two, laughing, and thinking about the meal that is only minutes away.

I never thought almost fifty pounds of fish would be eaten by twenty-some people, but all the fish would go somewhere. I was always sure I didn’t have more than a slab or two myself. I couldn’t have eaten more than a pound or so…but it would all be gone.

Freshwater fishing is a lot different. On most days it is hoping that I can catch enough fish to make one meal. I miss Crappie fishing in Minnesota. There was nothing better than everyone getting a limit of spring Crappie, big enough to fillet, and having fried Crappie and a cold beer for dinner. With enough Crappie left over for a sandwich or two later in the evening, or the next morning of course, probably with coffee, because all the beer would be gone.

I seem to have all my fishing thoughts written out. I can see my bag of fishing tackle, and my rod a few feet away. Perhaps it does not help having my fishing equipment where I see it every day. I am better off than a friend though, who took some wild life biology classes some years ago.

He loves to bow hunt deer. He found out out from his studies that deer in the southwest have about a thirty year peak number cycle. He became sad when he mentioned that the last peak cycle was ten years ago. He said with his eyes almost starting to water and that almost undetectable crack in his voice, that he won’t be around to hunt the next peak of the cycle.

Sometimes mortality is hard. My ocean fishing partner is no longer around, so memories of ocean fishing may be all I will ever have. On the bright side someone felt sorry for me and gave me some elk meat. It was very, very good, there was no beer though…. Only a few more weeks now and I can be at the lake thinking about the monster fish I will likely never catch. And that is okay.