The Dad Moment I’ve Been Waiting For

There are moments in life you think about for years before they actually happen. This was one of them.

Don’t get me wrong — every second of being a father has been incredible. But if I’m being honest, the last year has looked a lot different than the ones before it. There was a time when I was logging over 1,000 hours a year on the water. That was normal. That was life.

Then everything changed — in the best way possible.

From preparing for Walker’s arrival, to watching my wife go through childbirth, to raising him together day by day — time on the water took a back seat. And rightfully so. There’s nothing I would trade for those moments.

Now Walker is 9 months old. It’s crazy how fast it goes. It’s actually hard to remember what life looked like without him.

He’s mobile now. Not walking yet, but crawling everywhere, pulling himself up on anything he can reach, and trying to eat just about everything he gets his hands on. One thing is already clear — he loves being outside.

And here’s something I’ll tell any future dad: when the baby is crying, take them outside. It’s like a reset button. A cure-all. Honestly, I think adults need to remember that too. Time outside heals a lot more than we give it credit for.

With Walker getting stronger, more aware, and ready to experience the world, I knew it was time — time for his first fishing trip.

Last Saturday lined up perfectly. The weather was beautiful, the river flows were right, and his grandpa — my father-in-law — was in town.

Walker took his 10 a.m. nap, once he woke up and kissed his momma, we loaded up and headed to the river. It’s about a 25-minute drive from the shop, and the whole way there I just talked to him.

I always do. Everything I see, think, or notice — I say it out loud. It’s like I’m narrating life, and he seems to love it.

We pulled up, got the carrier backpack out — the one with the kickstand — and got him set up. He watched me rig the rod, pull on waders, and pick out a fly. I talked him through every step like I was filming a tutorial.

Then I loaded the pack — snacks, wipes, water, diapers. I don’t know who was more excited. Probably me.

We made our way down to the river, and the moment I stepped into the water, he thought it was the coolest thing in the world.

We worked our way to a spot I’ve fished a lot over the years — one of those places that just feels right. I started casting while he sat in my back, completely locked in, watching everything with no idea what was about to happen.

Then it did. Fish on.

It was a coastal cutthroat. At first, he didn’t quite know what to think. No huge reaction — but his eyes got big. You could see something clicking.

Then we hooked another. And another.

Each time, his interest grew. By the last fish in that first hole, he thought it was hilarious watching them jump and shake in the water.

We took a break on the riverbank. Snacks came out. He smashed them, picked up rocks, grabbed sticks — just being a kid.

I sat there with his grandpa, listening to the river, watching Walker play, and it hit me: I get to do it all over again. All the trips, all the hikes, the honey holes, the camping — everything I love, I get to share with him.

That realization is hard to put into words. It was one of the coolest moments of my life.

We kept fishing. His interest never faded — it just kept building until eventually he zonked out in the pack. Completely out. I kept fishing while he slept, landing a few more before calling it.

It was, without a doubt, one of the most special days I’ve ever had on the water.

The ride home was a different story. Waking him up to get in the car was a mistake. There were tears, a couple stops, and a lot of teamwork from grandpa trying to keep things calm. But honestly, I get it. Nobody likes leaving the river.

That night, I couldn’t stop thinking about the day. My new fishing partner. My new best friend. The beginning of something I’ve looked forward to for a long time.

And the best part? We went again the very next day and landed a steelhead together with Pete!

There are a lot more days like this ahead, and if I had to guess, every one of them will be better than the last. Because at the end of the day, it’s not really about the fish anymore— it’s about sharing the world you love with your kid. And there’s nothing better than that.