Fishing has provided me with some of the fondest memories of my life, but none more vivid and memorable than this true fishing tale that involved my dad and grandpa. Fishing had always been a part of my life and I grew up with a pole in my hand. My dad also loved to fish, and I just assumed he learned it from his father. We had been on lots of camping adventures in the Colorado mountains and almost every trip involved some type of fishing. I was very young, however, for most of these trips.
My grandparents moved to California when I was about 7 years old. I had missed the trips and in particular, fishing with my grandpa. So, when they returned to Colorado one year, my dad and I planned a fishing trip with my grandpa. I think I was about 9 or 10 years old at the time and I could not contain my excitement for the day fishing with my grandpa.
The morning air was crisp and refreshing as we drove to the lake, our excitement mounting with every passing minute. We picked a picturesque spot near the shore, on some flat rocks, under a grove of shady trees, and set up our gear with meticulous care.
I was quickly reminded however that my grandpa was notorious for equating fishing with napping. I could not blame him, the day was picture-perfect for a snooze by the lake. The fish were not cooperating and my dad and I just laughed as my grandpa nodded off and almost simultaneously started making noises that sounded like a grizzly bear caught in a trap. His snoring could shake the windows and he was quickly into a deep sleep.
As my dad and I managed to fend off the nap bug, we continued to not have any luck with the fish. It didn’t matter because the spot was perfect, I was with my dad and grandpa and I was fishing. Things couldn’t get any better. Little did I know, things were about to take a complete 180 and we were about to have a memory for the ages.
After about an hour into our adventure, a game and fish officer in full uniform appeared before us. He looked stern and imposing, with a no-nonsense demeanor that made us feel uneasy. Now our family has always followed the rules and laws and today was no exception. My dad had purchased a fishing license just that morning, and my aunt had told him how excited she was to have purchased my grandpa a lifetime license just before they got into town, and I was young enough not to require one. We had nothing to worry about.
The officer asked for our fishing licenses. My dad pulled his out and showed it to the officer. He then asked how old I was and I told him. Finally, he asked my grandpa for his. My grandpa reached into his pocket and pulled out what my aunt had so proudly given him, his prized possession – a lifetime resident license for Colorado. The officer scrutinized the license with a quizzical expression, then looked up and asked my grandpa where he lived.
My grandpa replied that he lived in California but had grown up in Colorado and his daughter just recently obtained the license for him. The officer shook his head and informed my grandpa that he was not authorized to reside in California and fish in Colorado with a Colorado resident license.
My grandpa was taken aback and tried to explain that he was not breaking any laws and had no intention of fishing illegally. He even showed the officer his current California fishing license, which he had purchased as soon as he moved to the state.
But the officer was adamant, insisting that my grandpa was flouting the rules and would have to face the consequences. He threatened to confiscate my grandpa’s fishing gear and impose a hefty fine on him.
My grandpa was visibly upset, and I could sense his frustration mounting. He had always been a law-abiding citizen and had never faced such a predicament before. He pleaded with the officer, telling him that he meant no harm and was only trying to enjoy a day out with his grandson.
My dad, a lifelong police officer, was not amused with the tone and temperament of the game and fish officer and told him as much. This did not go over well and the officer told my dad that he would, “haul him off” as well if he did not quiet down.
I was scared. The officer pulled out his handcuffs and told my grandpa to get up and turn around. He slapped the cuffs on him and led him to his car. He told my dad we could come to get him at the field office.
Just as the tension was reaching its peak, another game and fish officer came over to our spot. The second officer had heard the commotion and came over to investigate. He listened carefully to both sides of the story, then told the first officer that my grandpa was in the clear.
He explained that even though my grandpa was residing in California, he was still considered a lifetime resident of Colorado and was entitled to fish there with his Colorado license. The first officer looked sheepish and apologized to my grandpa for the confusion. Apparently he had never seen one of these licenses.
My grandpa was relieved and grateful, and we continued fishing with renewed enthusiasm. We caught several fish, including a huge rainbow that almost made us forget about the whole misunderstanding. We took some photos, admired our catch, and then headed back home, tired but content.
Looking back on that day, I realized how easily things could have gone wrong. But I also learned that sometimes, a little understanding and compassion can go a long way in diffusing a tense situation. And most importantly, I cherished the memories of spending a special day with my grandpa, doing what we both loved the most – fishing or maybe napping. At nearly 50 years old, I still remember that day and know I will never forget it. The day my grandpa was “cuffed and stuffed” while fishing!