I waited over 50 years to get to Panama the first time, but after going in April the seven months before round two are about to kill me. We’re just about six weeks away from returning to what was a transformative angling experience. While I can write endless volumes about bass fishing in Mexico, after writing about tuna for MeatEater and In-Fisherman and others, my knowledge base on those fish is tapped out. Time to do some more research.
It makes me wonder how many other things I’d love to do but have yet to experience. Golden Dorado in South America are on the list. So are Giant Trevally, perhaps in the Seychelles or Oman. And so is a monster smallmouth—hoping that one will happen in a few weeks on a trip to Michigan. More on that coming soon.
Seriously, I don’t see how anyone could ever grow bored of this sport. It has so much to offer, so many variations, and so many intricacies and wrinkles, I’m sure I’d run out of time, money, and perhaps energy before I ever ran out of excitement. A thousand articles and who knows how many blog entries into my career, and I still can’t wait to hit the keyboard every day. Writing plays a second but not insignificant fiddle to the experiences themselves. Most of all, I pity anyone who doesn’t have this sort of passion for something.
