HOOD RIVER, OR -- No one sees life as clearly as a little kid.
It was my nephew Evan's 8th birthday yesterday, and we got him a Bionicle -- a futuristic, complicated robot toy from Lego that kids have to assemble themselves.
I guess a Bionicle is the turbcharged, modern version of the Erector Sets I got as a kid.
This Bionicle also came with a spiffy outer space motorcycle of sorts. All told, it is 390 parts to click together, and Evan loves this kind of stuff.
"This is fabulous," said Heather, my partner, when we found the Bionicle/space motorcycle extravaganza in the store.
Evan unwrapped his gift a few hours later, and he was definitely pleased. But he clearly had other, more important things swimming through his 8-year-old mind.
I found out about those things a few minutes later -- when Evan showed up at my elbow.
"My Papa and Nana got me a fishing rod," Evan said.
I'm the big angler in this family, and I suspect I'm often thought of as a harmless -- yet semi-crazy -- fishhead.
Kids sense these things in about two seconds. I know I could recognize adult fishing addicts well before I learned the multiplication tables.
"Great!" I said.
"Yes, it's an Ugly Stick rod, and it comes in three pieces: two stick parts and the part that you wind in the string," Evan said in a one-breath rush. "There are hooks and bobbers -- they're big and red -- and I think there is bait, or I might need bait, and I think I need some lures and a little box."
Evan had a LOT more to say about his new tackle than his fancy Bionicle, and he needed to say it to me -- the fish-addled uncle.
It finally dawned on my foggy, adult brain that Evan may be a fish-addled kid, and it's my job to make sure he stays that way.
"Well, we should go fishing really soon," I said.
"Yes," Evan said. "There are lots of places to go -- where should we go? When should we go? Should we go soon?"
"We'll go to a spot where there a lots and lots of fish," I said. "We'll catch a lot of them."
As I spoke, a vision of a local bluegill pond floated into my head. This spot is crammed full of cranky, greedy little sunfish, and a Zug Bug fly or a tiny popper is all you need for non-stop action.
But there is no way I'm putting a fly rod in Evan's hands. Sure, he could learn a short cast in about 10 minutes, but handling that line and leader and long rod is too too much work for a young angler.
Young anglers just wanna catch fish -- right away.
And Evan clearly loves his new Ugly Stick rod, and who am I to meddle in a beautiful relationship? I still get a little dizzy when I think about my first rod and reed -- a green South Bend spinning rod with a Penn 720 reel -- the one with the green and blue fish on the side.
I got that rig in 1968 -- I was 7 years old -- and I loved it. I still love it.
An early-spring bluegill -- one that couldn't resist a Zug Bug nymph -- shimmers on a cloudy day last year. Good panfishing starts in the Northwest before the trees leaf out.
By the way, I was on eBay just this morning, and saw an ad for an old Penn 720. Here is the headline for the ad:
"Penn 720 Spinning Reel, Old Vintage Beauty. Great Find!"
If my first reel is "vintage," what does that make me?
The seller wants $49.95 for the reel, which probably sold for less than $10 in 1968. I don't think I'm going to bite on that offering.
So, it's almost spring -- and time to take Evan out fishing. Northwest panfish are pretty hardy critters, and they ease into the weedy shallows of lakes and ponds well before the trees leaf out.
The shallows warm up fast -- particularly on sunny afternoons -- and schools of bluegill and crappie hunt down food and scout out places to fan out plate-sized spawning nests with their fins.
Evan is going to learn a lot about panfish this spring and summer during our short trips to local ponds.
We'll fish for an hour or so, and I'll have snacks, cold drinks along. I'll teach Evan how to dig up worms from the compost pile. Later this summer, I'll show him how to catch grasshoppers. We'll take some photos of his crappie and bluegill. And, if he wants, we'll bring a few home to fry up for lunch or dinner.
Taking Evan fishing is a never-ending gift of sorts. And it's as much a gift for myself as for him.
I'm really looking forward to hooking Evan into this happy, life-long addiction. Someday -- in about three years, I think, I'll give him a fly rod and reel.
But I already know exactly what that kid is getting for Christmas this year -- and it is NOT a Bionicle.
