So the great Brooklyn, New York, bass-fishing expedition was a bust in some ways, a success in some other ways. Prospect Park Lake is simply gorgeous and very fishy looking with lots of shoreline cover. We didn’t see so much as a swirl, however, nor did any of the many other people fishing catch anything as we watched. The best part was that I was able to give some bass tips to my youngest city-dwelling son, while watching my wife showing his girlfriend how to use a spinning rod.
So we opted for culture instead of fishing. There were long walks in the sun through the spectacularly blooming Brooklyn Botanic Garden. And we spent Sunday at the world-renowned Brooklyn (art) Museum, which was equally impressive and left me feeling almost like a civilized person. I think this was good for me. My wife said it was, anyway.
I can also report that city people are really tough, unlike us country folk. After pounding concrete sidewalks for three days and climbing up and down interminable sets of stairs in and out of subway stops, my feet hurt like hell. I mean, out here in the woods I walk to the truck and drive to the store and back. Pretty easy. Down there in the concrete canyons, it’s pound, pound, pound all day long….