LAST CAST: I'd Rather Be Fishing

Getting old sucks.
It seems like the older we get, the busier we get. And the busier we get, the less fishing we do.
Just a few years ago, when I was a year or two removed from college, we used to go fishing every other weekend.
Weren't those the days? Loads of bass one weekend. Limits of rainbows the next.
Today, we're lucky to get everyone together for that one trip a summer, and getting all the guys on board for the weekend doesn't even happen anymore.
Everyone's just too damn busy.
Why this is happening? Haven't a clue.
I guess you could blame Father Time.
The old bastard is nothing but trouble.
Work. Responsibilities. Dependents.
Add it all up and it equals less time on the water.
It's gotten to the point where we've turned into a bunch of old farts.
"I don't know if I can make it 'cause ..."
"I got this thing ..."
"I'm feeling kinda ..."
"Work ..."
"She ..."
And I'm the only one who's married in the bunch.
It's a shame, but there's nothing you can do abut it. It's a fact of life.
You get old.
That's why I believe fishing is so important. I truly feel the waters we fish -- whether it's an ocean, lake or a stream -- are the closest thing we have to a fountain of youth.
Fishing is that great escape and that's why I'll drop a line once a week.
Even if I don't catch a thing, which rarely happens any more because (as my wife will tell you) I fish so much I've finally learned a thing or two.
That's how you outfish the competition on that "one" trip of the year.
We all use the same tackle. We all use the same lures.
The difference is past fishing experiences. Reading water. Proper presentation. Sensing strikes.
That's what separates a good day of fishing from a good day of catching.
But I'll take the good with the bad any day, because as they say, a bad day of fishing beats ... well, just about anything when you think about it. (Unless of course it's pouring or you're ice fishing without your favorite jug of whiskey.)
Trust me, life's short.
I'm already a third of the way to 90. Half way home -- or one foot in the grave depending on how you look at it -- if I live to see 60.
So while getting everyone together for a fishing trip might feel like pulling teeth, I'm going to keep on doing it while we still have some teeth to pull.

Last Cast is a column written by the editor of CaliforniaAngler.com.

LAST CAST: The Kern River Rainbow

These rainbow trout are unlike any you've seen.
Olive backs and sides that look as if they've been plated in silver.
Bright crimson lateral lines and countless black spots from the head to the tip of the tail.
And the fight, forget about it.
These silver bullets get airborne within seconds of being hooked, leaping two, sometimes three or four feet out of the water.
That's the Kern River Rainbow in a nutshell.
This wild fish is native to the Kern River and can be found on some of the remote stretches of the Nork Fork of the Kern River, located north of Johnsondale Bridge.
On my last fishing trip of the summer, I had the pleasure of hiking down to the North Fork via the Forks of the Kern River trailhead. I was lucky enough to catch a dozen of these beauties up to about 16 inches. Most of the fish we caught were near where the Little Kern met the North Fork. Spectacular fish.