Adventures of an Amateur Angler: The Streak is Broken!
Five.
That's how many fishing trips it took for me to finally catch the first fish of my adult fishing career. I didn't expect it to matter as much as it did, to be honest. When I was first invited to a fishing trip with some friends a few months ago I figured I'd mostly be along for the beer, and a little sunshine wouldn't hurt either. I couldn't remember the last time I'd fished, but I was pretty certain my dad had to bait the hook for me. I guess catching crawdads on sewing thread tied around chunks of hot dogs counts, so let's say 12. I was 12 the last time I fished.
And I had forgotten how much fun it is.
