What was your trip of a lifetime? What defines a trip of a lifetime? A big fish? Many big fish? A single day in an entire trip or just one day? Just exactly how would one define a trip of a lifetime? Don't worry, I did not set out to write 50 questions, but as to the title of this article I personally think that is best left for the recipient of said experience to decide.

There can be many variables to what would make an outing be just such a trip. It is also possible to have many fishing outings that will stand out in your memory for the balance of your life. I even wrote about that idea a short while back. However, last month something happened that changed my trip of a lifetime.

I have always had a hard time trying to figure out what I would call my trip of a lifetime. I have been fortunate, I guess. Fortunate in that I have had so many experiences that I would even have a hard time singling one out. But, something happened.

It was a rather nice sunny Saturday and I had finished working a little early, when I got the notion that someone should be out fishing on such a day. I further reasoned that it was just the type of day where this person who should be fishing, should be doing so with his oldest son.

So, with a great deal of begging and pleading (ya right!) I convinced Jeff to go fishing with his Dad. Actually he was in the truck before I got out the Kitchen door. We went to our local little mill pond. We had been there many times before, it was close to home and the pan fish were always willing to dip a bobber or two.

This year has been a little different on this pond than years past. This Mill Pond has been renovated when a bridge across it and the dam had been repaired a few years back. A local fishing club and the DNR stock the pond annually with Rainbow trout, Bluegills and bass.

The trout are part of a city wide urban fishing program and the club handles the bass and gills, I'm told. This year the trout were either not as plentiful or we did not go as often and at the right time. The trout are stocked on a put and take basis to allow anglers a shot at fish they might not otherwise catch.

When we are after the trout, Jeff pretty much fishes alone as I am basically playing hook baiter, fish netter, official de-tangler, and turtle catcher. Trust me, there can be little time to fish.

This year, the bass seemed like they were out to play. I have caught fish up to 17" long out of that pond this year and many in the 8 to 12 inch range. Jeff usually fights the fish and lands them after I hook them when we are chasing bass, and he uses his rod to wrangle Gills.

This trip was a special one to Jeff, and Daddy. We took some worms along out of our flat in the fridge. Jeff has helped all season to care for the worms. He has already developed many theories on worm life and activities. So this time he was really excited about using our worms.

Jeff was also more excited than usual as I was letting him bait his own hook and pick his own crawlers. He was going to, "Fish like Daddy does," were his words. We set up in a spot where the bass had been very willing as of late and the gills and sunfish are always waiting. I was going to toss a spinner bait and Jeff was going to use our worms. 

As a side note, does that plan of attack sound familiar? It should. That is how we fish in tournaments. One guy do one thing and the other do something different. Then keep changing until you find what the fish want. If you ever wondered how a tournament strategy can be applied to fishing for fun, this is it in it's simplest from.

Jeff baited up his 1/32 oz. Slo Poke, set his bobber to how deep the fish were and tossed out his first cast. The bobber only stayed afloat for 2 seconds. A nice fat little sunfish came to visit us right away. Anytime you catch a fish on the first cast, the fish have your total attention. This is magnified 10 fold if you are only 5 1/2 years old, as is Jeff.

Several more small panfish later, Jeff decides he is going to catch a bass like I had a few days earlier. He tells me he is going to put a whole nightcrawler on that little jig and catch a bass. He picked out a nice looking crawler and hooked it once in the middle. He made his next cast.

The panfish were having a field day with that big worm. You know what was happening, nip, nip, nip and occasionally the bobber would go under. Jeff could not understand why the bass weren't staying on his hook.

I suggested he reel in and cast over towards the bridge, maybe there were bass there that would bite his bait. "After all," I told Jeff, "That's where I caught the last two bass today." I had caught two bass in the 12 inch range with the spinner bait as Jeff fished.

Jeff tossed his bobbed over in the direction of the bridge and began to sit down when I saw his bobbed going down for the count and asked him where his bobbed was. "I don't know, I can't see it," was the reply. "Don't you think you should reel in some line and set the hook?", was my next comment. So Jeff did just that and a big bass rolled on the hook set!

I told Jeff he had a big bass and to hold the rod tip up and he nervously shouted, "Here, you catch it!" I told him it was his fish, he hooked it, he should catch it. He fought that fish like he had been doing this all his life. Then if this wasn't bad enough, a 15 inch bass on a kids fishing combo with 8 lb. line and no drag, the reel pulled apart!

So there stands my son, with the biggest fish of his life at the end of his line, hooked with a little 1/32 oz jig and the top half of the reel is pulled up against the first eye of his rod. Can you picture this? If there was a real life definition of pandemonium, I was looking at it.

I figured there was no better time to help him as he was rapidly becoming upset and panicked. I told Jeff to hold the rod while I hastily tried to put his reel back together. As the bass made one back flip after another, 6 feet away, I was able to put the reel loosely back into place. Well, it at least looked like a reel as long as I held it together.

I held the reel into one functioning mass as Jeff fought the fish and cranked the reel. In a few moments, we were able to pull the bass in. You should have seen the two of us! I don't know who was beaming more, me or Jeff.

Unknown to us, there was a group of people in an apartment building, under construction, adjacent to the parkway we were in. A round of applause went up as Jeff and I pulled the bass in. It took some doing for Jeff to actually hold a big squirming fish. He had never handled a fish of this size and was a little wary. The people behind us had watched nearly the whole affair.

A few quick photo's later the fish was released within moments and hugs were flying like they were free. I told Jeff I was so proud of him. Secretly I would have been just as proud if the fish came off or the line broke, but fortunately that did not happen. Jeff will just have to wait to find out how it feels to loose a nice fish. However, I am glad it did not happen with his first big fish. 

As I asked at the start of this article, "What defines the trip of a lifetime?" Well, for me this is a trip of a lifetime. But it wasn't the big bass that made this outing so special. I have come to realize, it wasn't the success we had. It wasn't that it was Jeff's first Bass.

What made this the trip of a lifetime? I got to share this experience with my son and he shared it with me. I am smiling as I sit and type this to you now. I think the sharing of a beloved sport, the sharing of my knowledge about the world around us and the closeness felt with a loved one in doing so make this the trip of a lifetime.

Even though Jeff is only five, I know there will be many more fishing trips and nice sunny summer afternoons. There will also be many wet miserable summer afternoons that we will share, but I won't trade any of them. That being said there will be only one first big fish, and I can't imagine circumstances more interesting than these. Although, our second son Jason is only 9 months old and has not even held a rod yet. Looks like there is double the opportunity for quite a few more firsts. I can hardly wait!

by: Ralph Muccilli