Angelia Durrell - Special to the Sun

'A bad day of Fishing is better than a good day of work.' ’ÄìAnonymous

When I was a little girl, I would go fishing with my father when we spent summers at our lake house in Maine. This involved a major sacrifice on my part, because Dad would get up before dawn had even cracked. Even the birds had the good sense to be asleep at that hour. Grudgingly, I would rouse from my warm bed and stumble into my fishing clothes, grumbling the entire time to myself at my own stupidity’Äîpromising Daddy that yes, I wanted to go fishing, and no, I didn’t care how early it was. I have never been, and probably never will be a morning person. And this was before I was afforded permission to drink coffee. It wasn’t an auspicious beginning for my hobby as an angler.

The Kern River Hatchery in Kernville.

But somehow, once we were in the boat, out in the middle of the lake, my grumbling stopped, and by the time Dad and I started back towards shore a few hours later, answering my grandmother’s breakfast bell, I was always happy I had come, whether or not I had caught anything. Now that I’m older’Äîand hopefully somewhat wiser’ÄîI realize that those early morning trips with bait and lures gave me’Äîand give countless others’Äîmore than just the catch of the day.

'Many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after.'

--Henry David Thoreau

'There is certainly something in angling that tends to produce a serenity of the mind.'

--Washington Irving

'Computers and video games are great,' says Greg Kollenborn, manager of the Kern River Fish Hatchery, 'but we’re so lucky to have what we have here.'

The Hatchery cultivates, monitors, and stocks trout in the Valley, including the Kern and Tule Rivers, Bright Valley Reservoir, South Fork, and the Bakersfield lakes’Äîover ¬º million fish a year. It’s a big job, but it’s obvious that Kollenborn enjoys his work. Why wouldn’t he’Äîhis office is a nearly pristine environment, and he is emphatically committed to conservation and education.

'Fishing is a great family activity,' he says. 'You learn about the outdoors, outdoor ethics and conservation. You learn to leave things as you found it, or leave it better.'

Kollenborn takes me down to the Hatchery bays, where they are currently housing the babies and the adolescent trout. I catch myself squealing gleefully when, as he sprinkles fish food into the quiet water, it suddenly erupts in a fierce maelstrom of fins and eager, greedy mouths. Hundreds of fish are squirming, jumping, and bullying their way towards the food, sending water spraying everywhere. Somewhat chagrined at my reaction’ÄîI am a grown woman’ÄîI am appeased when he tells me that he gets that all the time, from kids and adults. They come from all over the world, some visiting several times over the years’Äîvacationers, tourists, and anglers alike.

The fish I’m looking at are almost ready for release’Äîjust a portion of the 50,000 catchable trout that will be released this season. Occasionally the numbers are lower than that, depending on the environmental conditions and that year’s funding. The fish are only stocked from November until April, but, as Kollenborn explains, sometimes the changes in the environment affect that number.

'You go upriver and it’s just terrible,' he says. Lack of snow runoff from the mountains has affected the level of the lake, which in turn affects sustainability. It’s a delicate balance, and one that illustrates very sharply how we can impact the environment with often careless abandon. But it hasn’t stopped the truly dedicated outdoor adventurers and fishing enthusiasts. The lake, while low, actually confines the fish to a boundary line, so in a way, it’s actually easier to catch them. But for good trout, you need deeper water, because they tend to swim in colder, darker depths.

Jim Hunt, President of the volunteer-based Friends of the Hatchery, points out that there are lessons to be taken from fishing that apply to general life; planning, setting goals, observing, listening. His father taught him how to fish, and he in turn taught his own children, because’Äîas it was with my father’Äîfishing was and is an opportunity to simply talk and strengthen relationships.

It also helps teach one to stay focused and grounded. 'Fishing,' Hunt says, 'is the one pastime where you’re not thinking about your own problems.'

'It has always been my private conviction that any man who pits his intelligence against a fish and loses has it coming.' --John Steinbeck

'The fishing was good’Äîit was the catching that was bad.' --A.K. Best

Even when they pack their equipment and retire for the day with no prize to show for their labors, they’re invariably pleased with the day’s work. Getting the fish is almost a bonus; there are other reasons for being out there. Fishing takes and teaches patience, perseverance, commitment. Sometimes you put all the work in and get nothing.

'That’s why they call it fishing’Äîit’s not called ’Äòcatching fish’,' chuckles Hunt. 'You also learn about disappointment and how to deal with it.'

At the Hatchery, they offer programs and workshops geared specifically towards kids, some of whom have never baited a hook in their lives. 'Once they catch their first one, though,' Kollenborn smiles, 'They’ll have the patience to sit there all day.'

Flashes of memory come back to me; the blue rowboat Dad and I would sit in for hours, our lines in the water, no sound over the lake except a few early-rising loons. I remember it was peaceful, so much so that it was tempting to just go back to sleep. But then my line might give a little tug, and my energy was suddenly renewed, like an electric shock through my body, and all fatigue was forgotten as I carefully reeled the line in as my father gently encouraged and instructed me.

'We also try to teach other aspects of fishing,' Kollenborn says as I snap photos of the wee baby trout in another bay. Conservation and respect for the outdoors is paramount. 'Throw it back if you’re not going to eat it. Don’t waste.'

Hunt agrees. 'They learn about social skills and life skills.' Good sportsmanship is another. Hunt remembers deep sea fishing with a friend in Cabo, and he hadn’t caught anything all day. 'But then the other guy caught a marlin, and I was so excited for him.' There were no sour grapes, no jealousy. Just the thrill and satisfaction that a goal was reached’Äîeven if it wasn’t his line that caught it.

Through the efforts of the Friends of the Hatchery and Kollenborn’s hard work, they try to keep the facility open to visitors each day from 8 a.m.-4 pm. Currently they’re working on a grant proposal to upgrade their website, and Hunt is actively recruiting more volunteers for the 60-strong Friends of the Hatchery membership. They’re tirelessly promoting and talking up various events throughout the year; Free Fishing Day and the fishing derbies, which are normally held in midsummer and fall to encourage people to try sinking a line for themselves. On October 21, the Hatchery is hosting 'Music in the Meadow', a music festival that, to hear them talk about it, brings to mind images of a mini Woodstock. There will be food, music tours of the Hatchery and its on-site museum. Local artists Out of the Blue, among other musicians, will be playing.

'Actually, anyone can come and play music if they want,' Kollenborn encourages. It’s a combination of Volunteer appreciation day, fundraising, and community involvement that they’re looking forward to enjoying.

'The Charm of fishing is that it is the pursuit of what is elusive but attainable, a perpetual series of occasions for hope.' ’Äì John Buchanan

'All men are equal before fish.' ’ÄìHerbert Hoover

Although it has been many years since I’ve picked up a fishing rod and tackle gear, I remember the elation of catching a good-sized trout and knowing I’d be eating it for breakfast that morning. It didn’t matter if Dad caught more fish than I did, or if we got none at all, really. It was the effort and the work that went into it that mattered; the time I got to spend with my father that was just ours.

I also realized that it doesn’t matter who you are, what you do, or how much money you make’Äîfishing is a universal language, spanning cultures and social strata. The fish aren’t discriminating; the guy with prettier, more expensive lures has no guarantee of hooking the big one, whereas the kid with a worm may be the breadwinner of the day. And no matter where you are or what your background is, if you catch it, you clean it. There is no better leveler between friends than sitting side by side with filet knives and a chum bucket, preparing the fruit of your labors. But as disgusting as that can be, it’s a reward in itself, because you know that once the icky part is over, you can proudly put the fresh meat on the table for the rest of the family. There is resolution and reward to this pastime pretty much any way you look at it.

I can’t say that I would now rouse myself from the depths of my bed while the world is still dark outside, in avid pursuit of the fish. But I admire those who do. Anglers seem to have a true ear for what the world whispers to them and offers as lessons in life; in ethics, in respect, conservation, preservation, patience, planning, commitment. Unlike my impression of golfers, anglers just seem to have a better grasp on their internal center and don’t get mad when their strategy doesn’t work.

After visiting the Hatchery, I’m thinking of fishing again. Kollenborn says you don’t necessarily have to get up before the sun; the fish don’t care. I’d like to sit and listen and watch my line bob in the water, jump when it tugs with the first hesitant nibble below, and hear the sound of my father’s voice again as I slowly and carefully reel it in’Ķ.