If I’m
eating hot dogs for dinner, well then it’s a no brainer; the last mouthful has
hot dog and bun in it and that will be the last taste.
If steak
(which we hardly ever eat) is accompanied by beans from the garden, rice pilaf,
salad, and bread, then there are a lot of choices for the last taste. More often than not I choose the bread.
Even if we
have stew for dinner there is still at least some choice as to what the last
taste will be. Do I save a solitary
chunk of meat for the last bite? How
about a potato? Some carrot maybe? A
piece of celery perhaps? Some of everything
is too much. Two items maybe, but not
all four. I prefer to have just one or
two things be the last taste and I like to choose.
As much as I
like chocolate and as much as I like dessert of almost any kind, sometimes I
won’t eat dessert because I don’t want to change the last taste from dinner. Sometimes even when I am craving dessert I
won’t eat it because I want the memory of the last taste from dinner more than
I want dessert.
Call it one
of my sundry idiosyncrasies, call it ridiculous, call it whatever you want; I
choose the last taste when I eat.
I like to
choose the last taste when I am fishing too.
Ideally, just at the time I am ready to call it a day I catch a whopper
of a fish. The take is perfect, the hookset
engenders an acrobatic leap (from the fish not from me) the fish runs deep into
the backing, she is fat and beautiful when cradled in the net. After posing for a few quick pictures she
returns to the river to tell her friends to be careful of the Carp Carrot. The whole thing is a perfect last taste.
Like eating
dinner, ideally I would like to pick the last taste for every Carp trip and I
would like to choose the last taste on the final session of the season. A large, tailing fish turns to the side to
pick up the fly. I set the hook and he
is ripping out line. I release him and
end the season with that perfect memory. Wouldn't that be nice? Or would it?
In the
middle of the summer when the sun is high in the sky, the wind has diminished,
and the Carp are actively feeding in the flats, I think that I only want to
fish for Carp the whole darn year. It
seems like such a good idea in July. I
can’t do it though. Eventually cold
weather, poor visibility, and vacant flats, keep me from it. It is more than that though. If I fished for Carp for the whole year the
season would have no last taste. I don’t
just want there to be a last taste,
I need there to be a last taste for
the Carp season. It truly is better that
way. Then I can savor the process of
remembering past trips and daydreaming about future trips.
Fishing
isn’t really like eating; it’s more like life.
I can choose the last taste of dinner but so often I can’t choose the
last tastes in life. I don’t get to choose the weather in life or in fishing. I don’t get to choose the “when” or the “how”
of every goodbye.
When it is “goodbye
for now” I choose the last thing I say. What
about when it is “goodbye for good”?
Sometimes I don’t know when “goodbye for good” is. Or when it was. That can be simply disappointing or it can be
painfully life changing. Not being able
to choose all of the goodbyes makes the “hellos” better; the ones I choose and
the serendipitous ones.
So much of
the time fishing is more like life than it is like dinner; I don’t get to choose how things
go.
Fishing for
two days this past September, I made my last Carp trip of the season. I had decided in advance that no matter how
good or bad the fishing was, this trip would be the last taste for 2012. I like choosing and savoring the last
taste. It gives me the feeling that I am
in control probably more often than I really am.
The sun was low
in the sky. Even with no devil clouds to
be seen, spotting Carp was much more difficult than it had been in July. The sun bounced off the lake all day. Clear, calm water necessitated small
flies. While few and far between,
tailing fish were still present. Lightly
weighted, size 12 Carp Carrots made some Carp happy. Happy that is, until I set the hook. Thursday,
the first day of fishing, was quite satisfying; it really made me savor the
anticipation of the second helping on Friday.
Making the
first cast to a tailing fish on Friday I was already thinking about how the day
would finish. I wanted to catch a fish
on the last cast; I wanted to choose the last taste. Like a transition in a video I wanted the
summer to fade to fall with a take on the last cast. Out loud, I wanted to actually say, “Goodbye
and thank you” to that last Carp. I
wanted my winter fly tying day dreams to include that fish.
Catching a
Carp on the last cast of the season is really only going to happen if I catch a
fish and then choose to stop at that moment.
In a way it is like choosing to not have dessert; I want the memory of
the last taste of dinner more than I want the chocolate cake.
Nearing what
would be the end of the day I made casts to a couple cruisers; they did not
take the small Carrot. I suppose they
could have recognized it as a fake but I chose to assume they weren’t
hungry. I was actually heading back to
my Carpwagon when another cruising fish came into view. I stripped out line and made a single
cast. This Carp apparently was hungry
since he moved right to the Carrot. God
bless him!
I wanted a
take to be my last taste for the session and my last taste for the 2012 season. After releasing the Carp I clipped the fly
off and broke down the rod; I chose to end my season with that fish. It was one of the smallest Carp I caught the
whole summer; a small bite for the last taste.
I said, “thank you” and “goodbye” to the fish and took a video of
it.
Today is the
Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year.
It has been pouring rain for days.
A main arterial near my home has been closed because it has flooding
water over it. I worked today. I smiled today. I listened to Christmas music and I listened
to Artie Shaw. On this shortest of days
I savor that last taste of the 2012 Carp season; that last taste that I was so fortunate to get to
choose.
