Fishing Tradition

When I was a boy I took many fishing trips with my dad to various places including the Eastern Sierra mountains in California, the mountainous regions of Arizona, Utah, and many other places. My son's first fishing trip was on the Provo River in Utah when he was probably around 10 months old or so. I went up to the river to just look but a hatch of blue wing olives turned it into a fishing trip. I got him out of the car seat and strapped him to my chest and carefully made my way down to the river's edge. I was able to land a nice brown trout within a few minutes which was good because he did not like being stationary and wanted out pretty quickly. The other night he "caught" his first fish. My wife and I were walking around a small pond and I carried my fly rod along to take a few casts. I was not expecting too much but after a half dozen casts I had a nice little largemouth on and I let Blake turn the reel while I held the rod. Without even telling him how to do it he started turning the reel and got the fish to shore. My wife took this picture with her cell phone hence the graininess.