Fairmont, fishing and depression still exists

The best thing about fishing, besides catching fish, was that it was something I could do alone. I loved being away from adults. Of course that makes sense because most adults close to me did nothing but hurt me physically, mentally or emotionally.

Those that didn't do any of those failed to protect me so I had no trust in adults at all. Relatives least of all. Probably explains why I've more comfortable with women and with little kids. While I was molested by several women, we'll get to that later on, none of them hurt me except for my mother. Not even mentally.

Anyway, I loved to fish and I caught a lot of fish as a kid. I hated and still hate bullheads tho. Got horned one to many times and it got infected and hurt like hell for over a week. I'd much rather fish from shore than a boat as I don't have to worry about near as much or be as careful. Pretty hard to hit another boat or fall overboard and drown on dry land. While I like boats, fishing from shore is more relaxing.

I was fishing by myself one day and I saw a guy doing something I'd never seen before and he was out fishing me by a ton. I went over and talked to him and he explained to me that his rod was a fly rod and he used artificial flies to out fish me.

I'd never seen a fly rod before and obviously never seen anyone using one. He showed me a little bit about it and I thought perhaps I could do it with a regular rod. Lol, my young brain didn't grasp how it really worked so I tried it my way.

I shoplifted a few artificial flys and tied one onto the end of my line and then I would put out about 6 feet of line and jiggle it around or let it trail in the water while I walked on the dock. I caught more fish but I still wasn't happy because I couldn't do it the way he was.

The dock at the swimming beach was a U shape with the legs of the U being on shore. Little kids stayed inside the dock area and the bigger kids, who could swim, could go out to the raft. The swimming area had a life guard and swimming was only allowed during certain hours. Fishing off the dock was not allowed during swimming hours. The hours were enforced by the police.

During the non swimming hours I spend a lot of time walking the dock and catching fish. I also started experimenting with learning to fly cast from the dock. Almost impossible with a 5 foot steel rod and an old fashioned level wind reel but I got so I could get it out 20 feet or so.

Then I managed to accumulate enough money to get myself a 6 foot fiberglass rod and a close faced spinning reel. I could cast that baby a mile with conventional terminal tackle and best of all was no backlashes or birdsnests. Don't remember how I got the money but it's safe to assume I probably stoled it or stoled something and sold it to get the money.

Heh, I just remember a cops name from Fairmont. Joe Sutton. He and I would become acquainted thru him trying to nail me for anything. He got lucky, once.

I practiced with the new rod and reel and could then get the fly out 30 feet or so. I could also keep it above the bushes and stuff on shore so I no longer had to fish from docks. More freedom. Seems my whole life has been a struggle for freedom. Lol, still is for that matter.

I was fly fishing from shore one day and catching fish but the bushes behind me were a problem. Every now and then while false casting the fly would get hung up in the bushes. I'd tighten the line and give a jerk and the fly would come free so then I'd start over with the false casting.

One time it got caught and I thought it was in the bushes again so I tightened up the line and gave my usual hard yank to free the fly. When I yanked, my head snapped around and my ear hurt really bad. I grabbed the line and followed it with my fingers, right to my ear.

I now had a bumblebee fly as an unintentional earring. I swore a bit, got out my knife and cut the line off at the fly. Then I tried to get the fly out of my ear but I couldn't. It didn't hurt that bad so I tied on a new fly and kept on fishing until I got tired of it.

I stopped at the concession stand that was run by some people I knew and when they saw my ear the told me to come in and they took a side cutter and cut the hook off just above the barb. Pissed me off because now I'd lost my best fly. However it got the fly out of my ear and that was a good thing.

When my mother saw my ear I lied to her about what happened but eventually she found out and took my fishing gear away for a week. That was depressing to say the least. The fact that she beat me for lying to her was no surprise but if I'd told her the truth she'd have beat me for that too. Which leads to depression at it's finest.