Portrait of a die hard fisherman.

The sky was dark and ominous with howling winds and snow clouds threatening to burst. He looked out the window and eyed the horizon, first East and then West. "I think I see a little patch a blue sky to the East." He said. "I think it'll be okay, I'm going to hitch up the boat." With a sigh she donned her sweatshirt, thermal underwear, hooded parka, knit cap, and insulated gloves. She filled the thermos with piping hot chocolate, made two sandwiches, and popped her camera into the plastic carrier to protect it and off they went. They relentlessly trolled the boiling, dark green waters as she faithfully watched the fish finder searching desperately for the elusive trout in the depths of those cold waters. Meanwhile, he set up his poles, first one lure, then another, then another. They trolled to the East, then the West, then the North then the South. The winds blew harder, but still they trolled. The rain came down, but still they trolled. He climbed onto the front of the boat and took control with the little putting trolling motor and he crawled along the shoreline. They trolled up and down the narrow confines of the infamous "Kenny's Cove", the last place he caught a fish. At last he motored carefully up to a floating dock and tied the boat to the dock. For just a moment they enjoyed a sandwich and hot chocolate while the wind howled through the open door on the windshield. He then threw out a sinking Rapalla. He snagged up and he was forced to break it off. "Shoot" he cried, "there goes seven dollars." He reeled in that pole and threw out another. It snagged on the rocks. "There goes six dollars." he shouted above the storm. "Thirteen dollars, gone in 10 minutes." He quickly tied on another lure and cast it towards the shore. Success at last! She jumped from her seat and ran for the net to scoop up the catch of the day. But, too late, he already had the little Cutthroat in the boat. They smiled at each other like a pair of fools, and he quickly returned the slimy creature to the depths. As he threw his lure into the water again, the storms came in earnest. The wind blew harder and the clouds opened up and dumped the snow. It had been five hours and he had caught a fish. It was enough. Quickly he stowed his poles and they motored for the docks. The snow collected on the windshield and filled the skies. He could barely find the docks through the storm. He finally reached the shore and jumped to the dock. She idled in the torrent until he had the trailer in the lapping waves. With great trepidation she wiped the snow from the windshield so she could see and carefully guided the boat to safety aboard the trailer. At last it was secure and with shaking hands and shivering teeth she hopped into the truck and they headed back home. As the heater blasted them back to normal temperature, they looked at each other and laughed out loud. "We will never be too old for adventure, and we will never be beaten by Mother Nature."