I like fishing - with the point of getting dinner or breakfast. I have some of the most fantastic memories of my grampa taking me out fishing. Week-end camping trip. He'd teach me other things as well, which Smorgs wouldn't approve of.
You knew you were a big kid when you got invited. Just grampa, you, and sometimes his fishing/hunting buddy or his gf (she was a great cook).
The pleasure of finally 'getting it', learning about the equipment, practicing and being patient (not easy for a kid!), learning to fillet and take care with what fish you took.
The best though was the bonding, being in nature, and eating that fish! If you actually do everything yourself and keep it 'bare', it is exquisite!
Grampa slipped conservation lessons on the trips too. Nothing wasted. Clean up after yourself properly and your things or ask for trouble. This plant does this, this look to the water means this. Etc.
I do not sport hunt or fish, but enjoy hunting/fishing on occasion. You take to eat, be respectful.
Especially nowadays, there is something so glorious about killing your own food. It may seem brutal, but it's what we are. One on one, it's a good reminder that a person has a thin veneer of protection. We're part of this.
In the city one doesn't even have to think of it...I like be reminded of that connection. I like being intimate with it, even the gory parts.
