Last weekend I hooked and fought for a time the largest fish I've ever had on the end of a line. The specifics of the deal don't really matter because what really struck me the most about the encounter was how I felt when it ended. I involuntarily shouted!

It was a hard-core rush. It was pure adrenalin. It was raw, deep, and primal. I may have been out there with my carbon fiber rod and high tech gear, but for those moments, I was a caveman. I was hunting for the survival of my tribe. It was me against the fish. It was awesome. It was the fun of fishing at it's core. You either feel it, or you don't. And the crazy thing is, I didn't have to land it or even have to see the damn thing to have this reaction.

Fishing rocks.