Tilcon Lake
As you grow older, you become more selective about what you do with your time, not just because you have less of it left, but because over the course of events while using your time, you take moments out to reflect on the value. That's not to say that as a teenager, when I would fish a little creek for redfin pickerel if I had to, my choices--and I fished almost every day year round--did not comprise an authentic pursuit that had a lot on what I do now. It's just to say there's a world of difference between the two.
I was willing to get out and fish for river trout today, until I realized my parking spot would have a pile of ploughed snow on it, and the lot at the other spot, where I don't particularly want to fish, anyway, might not be ploughed out. I don't see why the town would make the effort. All of which got me thinking again of life without four-wheel drive. Lately I've been trying to keep my mind open to reasons why it's not such a good thing to own a Honda Civic, even though that's the vehicle I own and that's not changing. Always one to save money, I save a lot of it. For one thing, if I were to buy an SUV, I'd only buy a good one with real four-wheel drive and good clearance. But to the purpose of the likes of parking today at the river? It's not like I have a boat on trailer to pull and launch--living in a condo, there's nowhere to park that. Nor is it that I surf fish enough to justify the cost of a beach buggy.
No, and all told, I fish a lot. With quality equipment at quality places. The Civic serves it all well. I need a second man to load my squareback canoe on top, but not only is that relatively easy to do, the car sits low enough that I can load my 13-footer alone.
But today, the obvious thing to do would have been to drive to Mount Hope Pond, where I'm certain the ice is good and safe, and enjoy an outing alone. Or with whomever else is up there. That's a bit of a bugbear, because I really do like being altogether alone. When I fished Tilcon Lake a while back, I was all alone, except for some guys way back near the other end. Even though I almost broke my arm when I fell, it hardly ruffled me, certainly no bad mark on a great time. I bought crampons the day after, though. I intend to use them and not end up in the hospital. Had my arm broken, I wouldn't have been able to get my gear back out.
Instead of going to Mount Hope, I've a lot to do. I was going to fish trout for little more than an hour. River's not a long drive away. I look ahead long term, when I decide on what to do short term. The time I invest in getting stuff done today, means I'm that much ahead of the future. I quit my job soon, retire from the Foodworker's union. By what people tell me, they think I'll do nothing but fish. People don't understand there's a world of value in being a writer regardless of fishing, if you have goals you want to achieve as a writer. Fishing is re-creation, however. No other form of recreation I do--and I do outdoor photography, I hike, I like to swim--rejuvenates me as fishing does. No matter how electric the feeling I have for my writing goals, that connection tends to short circuit and the exercise become no better than being a coach potato. From that drawback, there are two kinds of diversions. One of them the job has served all these decades. Working a job makes me think of my writing as the alternative, and I get a lot of ideas that way. I carry a notebook in my back pocket, and another notebook in my car, for that reason. The other diversion is recreation. Mostly fishing, which inspires some ideas, but mostly cleans out my system and revitalizes me in a big way.
After I quit my job, I'll have the second kind of diversion. For the first kind, I have Starbucks over in the shopping mall. Maybe I'll find other ways to be out in society, too.
