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celeste's comments:
on Fishing for Passion
A vegetarian for the past 12 years, vegan for 7, I recently decided that I wanted to consider eating fish. I grew up in Chicago with little exposure to outdoor anything, and no training in fishing.
Just two months ago, I taught myself how to fly fish on a Steens Mountain river. The decision was directly related to a belief that I should be able to be the one doing the killing if I was the one doing the eating. I also long - in a distinctly disconnected and industrial world - to be more connected to my role in the food chain, whether that means picking tomatoes in my backyard or hunting an animal. That I was fishing for food meant that catch and release had no place in my vision. Within 5 minutes of practicing my cast, I caught a fish. Alas, it was smaller than the regulation size and my plan was quickly squashed; I had to release this small fish. In the hours I spent casting and searching for my food, jumping from rock to rock, watching as my partner once again released my fly from a bush or tree across the river, being consumed by the awesome roar of a seemingly tiny flow of water, developing a relationship or - dare I say - conversation with a fish who clearly wanted to taunt me as dusk threatened, I began to see the attraction to fishing as a "sport" or "game." It's a powerful experience.
Nonetheless, I don't think that my desire to kill my own food (within the limitations of the State in order to maintain the population) can be interchanged with sport or, especially, competition for the largest. Killing, or, even, faking at killing, shouldn't be a sport.
It's still been 12 years since I've tasted fish (or any meat), since my first effort at angling left me without a large enough catch. But I did learn a new way to be with a river and its inhabitants. Fish can be quite clever. At least my first effort in over a decade to consume meat will hopefully be on fairer playing ground than the grocery store.
Just two months ago, I taught myself how to fly fish on a Steens Mountain river. The decision was directly related to a belief that I should be able to be the one doing the killing if I was the one doing the eating. I also long - in a distinctly disconnected and industrial world - to be more connected to my role in the food chain, whether that means picking tomatoes in my backyard or hunting an animal. That I was fishing for food meant that catch and release had no place in my vision. Within 5 minutes of practicing my cast, I caught a fish. Alas, it was smaller than the regulation size and my plan was quickly squashed; I had to release this small fish. In the hours I spent casting and searching for my food, jumping from rock to rock, watching as my partner once again released my fly from a bush or tree across the river, being consumed by the awesome roar of a seemingly tiny flow of water, developing a relationship or - dare I say - conversation with a fish who clearly wanted to taunt me as dusk threatened, I began to see the attraction to fishing as a "sport" or "game." It's a powerful experience.
Nonetheless, I don't think that my desire to kill my own food (within the limitations of the State in order to maintain the population) can be interchanged with sport or, especially, competition for the largest. Killing, or, even, faking at killing, shouldn't be a sport.
It's still been 12 years since I've tasted fish (or any meat), since my first effort at angling left me without a large enough catch. But I did learn a new way to be with a river and its inhabitants. Fish can be quite clever. At least my first effort in over a decade to consume meat will hopefully be on fairer playing ground than the grocery store.
posted 4 years, 8 months ago
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