My dad didn’t really like fishing, but he would take us fishing because my brother and I wanted to fish. In college my brother and I got in to fly fishing. We bought our gear at garage sales. We read books on fly fishing.. with those books and later with the help of some friends we became proficient. But my favorite trip, my dad my brother and another friend were floating the Deschutes river in central OR. By this time dad was in his early 70s and had taken up fly fishing to spend with us even though I knew he would rather drag a ford fender behind a boat in quest of hatchery trout. Since you can’t fish from a boat on the deschutes, we anchored our boat and hopped out in waste deep water to fish a really good hole. Dad was the third one out of the boat , he fell in and went completely under, he came up gasping for air in that spring run off water. We all froze,worried about him, not knowing whether to laugh or be concerned. He climbed up and into the boat and as he did all that water came rushing out of his waders. It reminded me of a glass bird mom had bought that would tip forward for “a drink “ and then stood up. At this thought I lost it. along with everyone else. dad turned and glared at me for a second and then he laughed as well. that trip was cut short for obvious reasons. so many memories made with my dad, and he never really liked to fish in the beginning. i raised my three sons to fly fish, and have the pleasure of teaching my grandchildren. go out there and make some memories with your family it’s time spent that you will never regret.