While sporting the latest kid's sized, rubber, foul weather gear(Goretex sucks), my 10 year old son once again out fished Pops. After inhaling a perfect cluster of eggs, and surviving a viscous hook set, this mid to upper teens buck put my son's GLX-1141 and his right arm to the test.
Its just so damn cool to watch a cast similar to a Hail Mary, a fish climb on his bait, observe him registering it's a fish, to set the hook, only to have slack, as the fish heads straight at him. The look on his face when there was nothing there but slack was priceless. He muttered, "I know that was a fish". I of course (as calm as a father can be) YELLED at the top of my lungs, REEL, REEL REEL!" Which he did as fast as he could until catching up with the chrome rocket, his rod loaded to the max, and that smile gracing his freckled face.
Simply awesome.
With skill that few grown men posses, after multiple trips around the boat and over the motors, he wore the fish out.
We eventually slid it into the net. I nosed the boat up on shore to celebrate, regroup, and snap this photo.
It was then we realized that we weren't alone.
A family of mice were on board with us. We spent the next 30 minutes hunting mice on the 21' aluminum island they called home. 4 dead mice later we got back to fishing.
I cannot imagine a better day for a father or his son.