One of the fondest memories of my childhood was going to Clearlake, California, fishing with my dad and my brother Robert. I preferred it over the ocean because I didn’t get seasick on the shore and I never felt comfortable hanging it over the side of the boat when nature called. Lake fishing was more serene; you could just drop you’re line and sit back and snack. I remember a few times when me and Robert would wade out into the tall weeds and drop our cane poles in. We caught a stringer full of crappies and bluegill that day. But as time goes on priorities changed and while Daddy and Robert went fishing a lot. I was busy with work and other activities. I would much rather hit a little white ball into the water than throw in a line.
The last time I went fishing was about 17 years ago. I had just moved back up from Southern California. I had just gone through a divorce and came back with what I could fit in my car. I was between jobs and living in my best friends guest room. I remember this trip because we first had to get me a license then we got some goodies. My Dad was one of those dads you liked to shop with because he always picked up lots of treats that were not on the list. Then we rented a boat and went out for a few hours. He was more disappointed then me that we didn’t catch anything I was just happy to spend some time with my Dad.
Well last year when he was diagnosed with terminal cancer I wanted to take one last trip. So Robert loaded up the RV hooked up the boat and away we went. Let me tell you an RV is a lot better than the back of the camper. They say getting there is half the fun but when you are in the back of a truck going over foot deep potholes you come out black and blue. Of course the first thing we needed to do was pick up some goodies and a fishing license for me. The first night we stopped at a park and did some night fishing. The next day we moved on down to another location. I liked this spot because it had facilities campgrounds and a nice walking path around it. Sitting in a lawn chair in the shade is my kind of fishing. What made the trip even better was the next day my niece and her husband and daughter came to join us. Fortunately we did some shopping because we caught no fish. Me and Robert stayed up late reminiscing about trips of the past.
The next day we took the boat out for a while and still no fish. If I was someone who lived to fish then this would make it a bad trip. I believe there are no fish left in Clearlake because me and Robert caught them all long time ago. With me it was more about connection than activity. My dad was never one for conversation. It was usually hows the weather? Hows work? , How are you?. We did get to talk some but he was more concerned with my health than his own. Also for the first time in my life I found out what he did for a living. I knew he was a machinist at a Naval Shipyard but that was it. I could tell you but then I would have to kill you. Anyway I would call it a victory.
A few months later Robert packed up the RV for one last trip. He was taking Daddy home to Missouri to be laid with the family. At his funeral my uncle Carl read from Matthew chapter 14 where Jesus fed a multitude with a few fishes and said “As long as Artie was around everyone had fish to eat.” Then they played Taps for him. and gave him a 21 gun salute.A fitting end to a great man.
Through the years I have had many road trips some more eventful than others. But this one was the worst because I knew there would never be another one like it.