Fishing with our Fathers

May 2014 Fishing Trip in New Jersey

My Dad was transferred through his job at Prudential Securities in 1996. That September, we moved (my dad, my mom, four kids and our dog) from North Barrington, IL to Fair Haven, NJ. My parents had called Chicagoland home for 33+ years, and were set to start a new chapter on the east coast, in a small town in New Jersey, far from family and friends.

We were excited for this new chapter as a family. I still remember turning around in the back seat of our minivan to one last glimpse of our home on 115 Carriage Road, as we embarked on our 14+ hour drive to our new home in New Jersey. During my 9+ years in Barrington I had become very close with Scott Holloway, who lived less than 1.5 miles from our home in North Barrington. He grew up on the other side of Honey Lake, which is a small 55 acre lake. We grew up on this lake. When I think of my formative years and memories, I immediately start with Honey Lake. The memories come flooding back to me.

We forged memories catching largemouth bass and northern pike, and even catfish. We pulled over to catch glimpses of painted turtles and even encountered a huge snapping turtle, which after snapping a large branch, we quickly left alone (I remember my Dad ordering us back to the minivan). I fondly remember fishing there with my sister, Paige, one autumn afternoon. I hooked a northern pike off the dock, and panicked upon getting the toothy fish near the shore. My sister and I jumped around near the road and flagged down a man who was driving past to help us release the northern pike. We were young and were scared to handle the slimy fish, with its serrated, knife-like teeth. He gladly pulled over and helped us release the fish. He understood we were forging important memories and learning valuable lessons, and was only too happy to help us.

In the years after our family moved to New Jersey, we visited Illinois often to spend time with family and friends. Illinois remained a second home for my family for years, even though my two younger sisters hardly remember our time at 115 Carriage Road. We also continued to fish Honey Lake. The lake to this day produces 3 lb. bass more consistently than any other body of water I have fished. It’s a fantastic fishery.

In 2000, my Dad approached Randy about joining us on our annual father-son fishing trip. This annual trip was a tradition that my Dad started in the summer of 1996, when I was just shy of my 9th birthday. At the time, we would fly into Canada to fish remote lakes in the provinces of Manitoba and Saskatchewan. The purpose of these trips was (and still is) to connect more intimately in nature while fishing. There are rarely phone calls or text messages and certainly no emails during these trips. We enjoy each other’s company, unperturbed and uninterrupted, while taking in the beauty around us. We learn and talk about family, friends, raising kids, finances, overcoming illnesses and injuries and most importantly, we swap fish stories. The richness and depth of our stories is hard to capture in words, but let’s just say we have developed a new fish language, that a select few guides have caught on to over the years. We know we have had an incredible trip when the fishing guides start speaking in similar tongues as us.

After what I imagine didn’t take a ton of convincing, Randy agreed that he and Scott would love to be a part of our trips, and joined us on their maiden voyage in 2001. We set out to fish through an outfitter called Camp Grayling (that unfortunately no longer exists), which was located at the very northern tip of Saskatchewan on Black Lake (not too far south of Yellowknife). I remember the particularly turbulent ride we had on the prop plane from Saskatoon to the lodge, which by the way was a 2+ hour flight. When you’re arranging people so ‘the aircraft’s weight is distributed properly,’ you don’t feel at ease in the least. Even at only 14 years old, I understood this uneasiness acutely and remember my stomach being in my throat on a few drops through the clouds on that flight.

Fast forward to 2021…we just celebrated our 20th year a few weeks ago at Lake St. Clair in Saint Clair Shores, Michigan. The last two years have been particularly challenging due to COVID-19. We had to cancel our 2020 trip to the Boundary Waters due to COVID and pushed that trip to August of this year. To our surprise, the Boundary Waters were dealing with uncontained wildfires in early August, which forced the national wilderness area to close for the first time in 45 years. As a result, our trip to the Boundary Waters was again postponed for another year. We had less than a week to scramble and find a new fishing destination. Thanks to Scott’s incredible hustle, we landed with our old guides on Lake St. Clair, which proved to be another epic trip (complete with me catching a 100 lb. sturgeon, and the other three guys each landing a musky).

Scott and Jim in June 2002

I’m not here to recount our numerous trips throughout the last 20 years, but rather share with you a few lessons learned during this invaluable time with our fathers on the water. With that, I leave you with those lessons:

1. The importance of being present and in the moment — Too often, I’m mentally not present and I find myself constantly refocusing my attention to be present, and be in the moment. My belief is that the greatest gift you can give someone is your undivided attention. It’s frankly a challenge for me, outside of when I’m fishing. People ask why I love fishing and a big reason why I find so much joy in this sport is due to being 100% utterly and completely immersed in the moment. Every problem, challenge or issue in my life melts away when I’m on the water. There’s no price you can put on being completely and utterly immersed in an experience.
2. You think about life differently out on the water — We all move too quickly through our days and lives. Fishing has allowed us a valuable avenue to pause, appreciate the beauty around us and most importantly catch up with each other, uninterrupted and unencumbered by the day-to-day stresses that encroach on our time and headspace. Two days on the water feels like two weeks in many ways, due to the fact that we don’t touch a phone other than to snap a picture or take a video. The ability for all of us to get together for one long weekend a year to fish, stay up late playing ridiculous card games and gluttonously eat is invaluable for our spirits (and maybe less so for our bodies). Most importantly, as four adults now, we are able to discuss economics, politics and finances intelligently and thoughtfully, while learning from each other in the process. These conversations don’t happen if we’re not out on the water, in a boat, sharing these hours together.
3. Life is about the richness of your experiences and creating enduring memories — Fishing has provided all of us with the most incredibly rich and enduring memories. For most of us, much of what we learn and experience throughout our lives is dulled to the point where we often forget most, if not all, of the details. With fishing trips, I can recall exact trips and fish stories from those respective trips.
   1. One practice that my Dad has instilled in me since our first trip in 1996, was that I was obligated to write a trip recap within one week of returning from our trip. 25 years later, we have a file of these trip recaps that we often reference. For any of the memories that have ‘dulled’ over time, we have the trip recaps to read to literally revisit the most minute details from past trips, and sharpen the colors and contrasts where the dullness has crept in.

I hope these lessons help to underscore why I find the sport to be so invaluable. Scott and I have quite literally grown up together due to our Dads’ friendship and shared decision and commitment to prioritize these trips with their sons. We moved across the country in 1996 but it was because of these trips that we remained connected and grew our friendship even more so during these two decades when we lived 800+ miles apart, versus just a mile apart. We have become closer due to these shared experiences that are steeped in life lessons, personal development and deep, unbreakable friendships. Our friendship with the Holloways also played an outsized role in me moving back to Illinois 6 years ago (nearly to the day), where my wife and I have started our own family, and are raising two ridiculously cute (but at times exhausting) daughters.

I have had many people tell me ‘I just don’t get fishing.’ The quote below is a quote I often reference (without spelling it out) in my response. Tight lines.

“Many go fishing all their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after.” —Henry David Thoreau