I love me some fresh-caught trout, fried with bacon grease.
My father was fishing the Oregon Cascade lakes since the late 1930’s. Knew where all of the best fishing holes were.
His best friend owned a float plane, and had a contract with the U.S. Forest Service in the late 1950’s - early 1960’s to stock the high mountain lakes with trout.
Did you ever notice men, real men talk about the guys that did things, taught them things, elk or fishing camps where they’ve been. How the food tasted the cold felt, the ocean or river sounded. Poker games at night, stirring the morning fire, saddling up or launching the boat, the simple things. No mention of women most times, just man crap. The break from work, the wife and kids, family. Just a chance to relax, recharge your battery to hit the part that pays the bills. It was fun.
Me too! I live in the High Sierra, so it is just a 20 minute drive for me to high altitude, alpine lakes filled with trout. I used to fish every day after work.