Page 62 - ELITE PLUS MAGAZINE VOL10

While the weather in Ithaca might be around 10°C, the temperature where I was standing dropped to around the freezing point.Amid these conditions, I usually stood and fished for three to six hours. Even though I wore a thick sweater and field jacket while my head and ears were hidden under a knitted beanie, my face and palms were bare. Every time the wind blew, I felt like I was being licked by flames. The skin on the backs of my hands often cracked and bled, turning into red spider webs over my hands. There were many times I had to stuff my fists into my mouth so my body heat could make them work again.in Keuka Lake, which was not so far from Cornell, would assemble to lay eggs at a cape named in Red Indian as Taughannock. Next to the cape was a creek of the same name running to Keuka Lake. It originated from the tallest waterfall in New York. This creek was an assembly point of the little fish that were the main food of the lake trout and other hunting fish. That is why this was a well known fishing spot in the area. The local authorities had turned neighbouring land into a public park. To facilitate the fishermen, they also built a nearby haven. At the cape, piers had been constructed and stretched towards both sides of the creek.I first tried trout hunting in October 1986. At the time, the leaves were turning a glittering gold. The tempera- ture was falling quickly but hadn’t yet hit its lowest point. I cast the lure for about two hours but could not catch a single fish. The failure was a result of the fact I could not recognize where the trout were. I tried to inspect the maps in fishing gear shops that indicated the water depth in each area. Then I calculated where the trout should be and cast my line out to the deepest point I could reach from the bank. Yet I failed. Not more than 50 metres away, however, an old man caught a 50cm trout. It encouraged me to keep trying.For the second attempt I moved south and fished at the creek pond of Taughannock. The barometer was high that day; the fish tended to rise to the bait more actively than usual. I still used a spool and cast the rod for hours. The sky was clear but it was chilly, as the wind blew heavily the entire time. Beside me was a man who had come from a nearby town. He seemed quite talkative as he recom- mended fishing spots around Ithaca. Actually I already knew them, but I smiled back and did not interrupt. This fishing companion could not catch anyfish either. At least I had someone to chat with and hide my loneliness.After half a day I had still not caught anything, so I drove to another side of the pond to the north. An elderly couple were fishing there. As they saw me joining them, their faces turned sour. I cast the rod twice before other people started arriving. That frustrated the couple. They walked away with an air of accusation that I had seized their place. I knew this and tried my best to sit humbly in the corner. They might have been upset by the fact they could not catch any fish. I found that no one caught any lake trout that day.I stopped fishing for a few days since thesis deadlines were coming quickly. I intended to finish the first chapter by the end of the month so I had to work day and night to complete it.My project was delayed for four days. On the other hand, it went beyond my expectations as my first chapter was longer than 100 pages. So I could separate it into two parts ... The first part concerned the Ayutthaya Kingdom while the second part was involved with Thai education in the early Rattanakosin Era. I left my manuscript with my wife, as she had to run errands at the campus every day while I was arranging the tackle for trout fishing.Yet the next day the snow was falling for the first time of the winter so I was confined to home – randomly preparing spinners and jigs as well as oiling the reels. With regret I realized that fishing season would be over soon.Fortunately the sky the next day was calm, scattered with clouds. The temperature rose to 10°C. Since the morning I observed the weather until it was in place at 2pm. I grabbed the rod and left home, hoping to catch the lake trout before the snow fell and the lake froze.People could not understand why I called it a pleasure...Being a doctorate student at Cornell was a life I had never expected. This experience took many things from me but also compensated through things I had not had before. Regarding the part I was robbed of, sometimes it gnawed on me until I nearly died.One time I moved the piles of books surrounding me apart and grabbed a mirror to look through my face carefully ... In front of me was a middle-aged man with deep wrinkles along frowning eyebrows. Eyes were dried like those of a dead fish, and the colour of the face was so lifeless and pale. I suddenly felt like he was a stranger. I did not know who he was, but looking into his condition I could tell he was withering away without any clear purpose in life.At the same time, it reminded me of another guy I was familiar with. I saw his sturdy body skirting through the jungle, gun snuggled beside him while his sparkling eyes scrutinized the scene. This picture totally contra- dicted the guy in the mirror.I decided to fish for lake trout as a way to search for the missing parts of my life.During the autumn, the lake trout60 Elite+