I am an utter newcomer to the sport of fishing, spin fishing to be specific. I am a neophyte. A tyro. A greenhorn. A babe lost in the woods. I have been fishing for roughly seven months in the seasonal waters of Western Pennsylvania. This is a boast that would be quite impressive for a ten-year-old. However, for a 31-year-old, this means that I have just learned which end of the rod the fish are caught.
Read MoreEllen and my ears perked up at the sound of truck tires rolling over gravel. It was the telltale sound of a vehicle approaching the cabin. We both looked at each other excitedly, "They're here!" she said, and then promptly scampered off the back porch, through the backdoor of the rental cabin, and onto the front porch. We could see the headlights of Van and Katie's truck as they made their way to the cabin. The truck's headlights bounced along the gravel driveway, weaving through the trees. A weekend of fishing and exploring the waters of the South Fork Caddo River was about to begin.
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