So today I went to the river looking for some bowfin aka grinnel, swamp bass, and dogfish to name a few of their other handles. Unfortunately the fishing was not very good and I never did hook up with a grinnel. I did catch several small bass, bluegill and catfish. But as I was sitting in the kayak fishing getting absolutely eaten up by mosquitoes, some of which were so full of blood they couldn't even fly. I started thinking how much discomfort I have put myself through over the years all for a fish. Every exposed surface of skin is covered in bites, I am still itching at them as I type this and will be for the next few days. I have been sunburned countless times. Last summer on my tarpon trip I had a small slip on my neck where my buff and shirt met that was not covered and got 2nd degree burns from the sun. That scar is still there a year later. I have gone offshore and been puking my guts up due to sea sickness but did my best to keep on fishing. I have gone out in single digit temperatures and had ice frozen to my stripping fingers. I constantly get up at dark thirty after long weeks at work to be on the water at first light. Its really more than a fish that drives me, its a passion. A passion that mimics an addiction that will take over your life.Some people get it and most people don't.