Derby Days

I don’t remember when I first learned how to hold a fishing rod. By the time I had learned to walk, my father already had me standing on the dock, pulling up panfish with him. There are generations of fishermen in our lineage, so it was only natural that my two older brothers and I followed suit. My sister, the eldest child, and my mother don’t enjoy fishing the way the rest of us do. Yet, it is our family tradition to experience it all together and fill the days at our Ticonderoga camp with laughter, smiles and fish stories told around the campfire on clear, starlit nights.

An event my family