It doesn’t take much to leave a lasting impression on a child; a day out fishing with dad is one of the best ways to make lasting memories.

We glided off the highway onto an off-ramp that pretty much defined the town; that’s how little there was to see. He had gotten me up early for what was expected to be our first of many Father’s Day adventures. I was groggy at that early hour and don’t remember much back and forth conversation on the ride up the hill. Once we left pavement though, I was wide awake and I remember every second.

As we climbed in altitude there seemed an equal climb in attitude. Suddenly Dad was animated and his eyes had a shine and twinkle I had never noticed before. He worked hard and was not really around much. Work took him off to places; I never really cared where, I just knew it took him away. Today was our day, though—we were going fishing. We were in the Flattop Wilderness area of Colorado and as we climbed through occasional aspen groves, the land opened up and you could see for miles. He said he‘d never been here before but as always, he sure seemed to know where he was going. All I remember was we took a left eventually and passed a sign proclaiming we had arrived at “Deep Lake". I remember thinking there sure were a lot of words and must be a lot of rules up here because that sign had a whole lot more to say. The thought and the sign were gone in a flash as I spied water ahead.

The coolest thing was we were completely alone. There was one RV parked way across the lake with no sign of life about. We jumped out and peed because that’s what men do after a long ride, Dad had said. After grabbing tackle boxes and rods, we set out for the banks of our own “private" Deep Lake. It was here and then that Dad showed his skills at fishing. First, he showed me how to tie an improved clinch knot. Now I’m not sure what an un-improved clinch knot is but that’s what he called it, and being as I wasn’t yet the smart-alec I am today, I kept quiet and learned. Later in the day, he showed me Palomar, Turtle, and Blood knots along with many more I had no hope of remembering. The best thing he showed and what made this day so special was: he showed me a side of him I had never known.

We talked of his upbringing and then the truly romantic story of his courtship of Mom. I had just never thought of him this way: young, single, falling in love and chasing a dream. The dream never was fulfilled career-wise as he toiled most of his life, but I found his dream was Mom—and surprisingly enough, me. He had always wanted a family, and for a long time, he felt it was not to be. One look at Mom and he was a goner, so he said. He talked to me more that day than ever before and it was the best day of my life, though actually catching fish was not to be.

Well, we caught no fish that day but I didn’t care. We spent hours talking and casting and reeling back in lines that hadn’t had so much as one hit. You know I never even noticed until he mentioned it. He said we seemed to be doing a lot of fishing but not much catching. He asked if I wanted to go and I didn’t; like I said, it was the best day of my life.

We finally had to call it a day and as we were driving away we passed the backside of that big sign. We drove a hundred yards or so more before Dad stopped and backed up so we could read all those words. The words on the sign weren’t for rules; they were more for an explanation. You see, Deep Lake it turns out, is situated so high in the Rocky Mountains that it freezes solid every winter. That’s why there is now and never had been a single fish residing there. Oh, we had a good laugh and I’m sure Dad was embarrassed though he never showed it.

Dad passed during the next year and I never fished again. Father’s Days came and went and I was sad but only for that first year. You see now, whenever another Father’s Day passes and I don’t catch any fish I remember Deep Lake and it was the best day of my life.