RobArt Penguin

The best memories of my father are our fishing trips. From fishing for walleyes in Wisconsin at night lit only by the moonlight, to fly fishing for trout in Colorado, I remember his guiding presence. In the mountains, it would be long drives to the fishing holes, either before dawn or after dusk, where we would talk about everything from his military days to current events. He loved to tell stories and I loved to listen. I remember one time we were on a mountain pass on the Fourth of July and it snowed. I thought it was so cool to see snow in the middle of the summer. I repeat this tradition with my son. Last year, we tried muskie fishing. We had no luck, but we had great times. So we’ll try again this year. I will tell a few stories on the way.