I finally got the registration for the flat-bottomed boat figured out after letting it sit in the yard for two or three years awaiting my attention.

This reminded me that I need to get my priorities straight. So what if I worked for the better part of a year to get the building completed and then the better part of half of last spring trying to get the dining room and kitchen renovated? I never did get to go out on a boat. In fact, I didn't even trout fish very much.

There's really no excuse for not taking the time necessary to head out for a fishing trip now and then.

As for the boat, the pieces of this puzzle have been coming together over time, just like most of the puzzles that I've put together. For instance, I got the boat from one friend (minus one seat) and then found a seat and pedestal from another friend. After that, I got a couple of paddles somewhere else and patched up the boat with some two-part epoxy that I think will hold up nicely, even on the aluminum boat frame.

Even later, a trolling motor was located at a yard sale and a battery was bought on sale at a local parts store to power it. I've still not found a small 5- to 10-horsepower gas motor, but one will turn up sooner or later. All told, I probably have about $200 invested, so I'm not doing badly. It's always easy to get things cheap when you're patient. Of course, I'm not always so patient.

The last step was getting the boat registered, which I had put off for awhile until the Sparta sporting goods store started offering the service of boat registration.

That's when I found out that the state has started issuing titles for little boats with any kind of motor and that I would need to find myself a receipt in order to get it registered. Backtracking, I managed to get a receipt from my friend saying he gave me the boat. I then had to go back to the fellow who had it before that and get him to write out a paper saying that he didn't own it any more. The reason for this is because the friend I got it from never registered it to take out on the water.

From what I've been told, this boat basically has set land-bound for many years awaiting the opportunity to be taken out on the river once more. I'm just hoping to give it that opportunity very soon.

Taking my family out is one of the things to which I'm looking forward. I've learned over time that it really isn't possible to take a kid fishing and fish at the same time, but I never have stopped trying. I enjoy taking them even if I don't get to fish.

Last week I took my youngest daughter trout fishing with me for a little while. It was our first fishing trip alone. We strung up her little pole and she got out a vest. "This is my fishing vest," she said as I put my gear together. It was just a little blue coat-style vest, but

I felt a tinge of pride that she was trying to emulate me. She also put on red cowboy boots and a pink cowboy hat she borrowed from her sister. When you go with Dad, fashion consciousness is not required, nor understood.

After getting to the creek, I told her to follow me and watch out for briers. She had a little trouble keeping up on the uneven ground, so I slowed my pace a bit and actually enjoyed the walk. When we got to the water, I came upon another problem. The water was down a steep bank from the field in which we were standing and there was no easy access point. With so many of our small creeks and streams, there aren't a lot of places that aren't overgrown with briers and trees. Of course, those very things make the habitat suitable for trout, since the shade keeps the water temperatures from rising.

After we finally found a place where we could cross over, she was very amazed that we could just walk through the water-me walking in my waders while carrying her to look for a safe spot for her to sit and fish. "Can I walk in the water with my boots?" I explained that might not be such a great idea.

I soon found a grassy bank right above a big hole and sat her down on the side of the creek while I tried to get everything ready to fish. The water wasn't deep near the side and a big tuft of grass furnished a ready-made seat. After baiting her hook, I turned around to make a cast and within about a minute or two, she asked, "Can I throw some grass in the water?"

‘Distracted fishing man' didn't look to see what was going on and answered, "Sure."

The subsequent splash got my attention quickly and I rushed over and pulled a dripping kid from the creek's edge. I'm guessing she leaned out too far to grab a stick or piece of grass and lost her balance. After taking off her damp shirt and vest and putting on a jacket that I was wearing (she didn't make it all the way into the water), I took her upstream a bit more and helped her catch a small trout, which came off the hook near the bank, and another which she got to land. However, she had no desire to touch it and screamed a little when it flopped on the bank beside her.

After we got home, I helped her change her clothes, asking, "Do you want to go fishing again?" She replied, "Yes, but put me up a little safer from the water-and I don't want to touch any fish or worms."

The first half of what she said reminded me of being a youngster and wanting to go fishing, which meant I had to go with my own over-protective mother. She insisted that I suffer the ignominious young fisherman's fate of being lashed to a tree before she would even let me get close enough to the water to cast. I don't fault my mother for this; her idea was to prevent anything bad from happening to me at all.

On the other hand, I prefer to think that some things are better learned through experience. Especially considering that I never really relished the idea of going fishing as a child because I knew the safety rules would result in maximum overkill.

I bet the fall in the water made my daughter more cautious of the water than being lashed to a tree made me, to be sure. Why the first thing I wanted to do was get loose and fall in the water. And I'm still at it, as testified to by my recent opening day adventure. Hopefully her memories of falling in the water won't be traumatic ones, but maybe they planted seeds of learning.
 

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