I grew up in a small town of about 500 people. There was a lake close enough to ride my bike to that had a decent population, of large mouth, panfish, and rainbow trout. The creek flowing out of the lake had small mouth bass, and being a local, I had shore access to anyplace I could find to cast. There was a public access at one end of the lake, with a small dock.
I went fishing there, almost every day of the summer. A friend of mine lived a quarter mile away from the lake and fished with me whenever he could. We both owned a bass plug or two, and preferred to fish for bass, but most days were spent fishing off the small dock for whatever would bite a worm dug up out of the garden. We would usually catch our limits of trout, and maybe a few crappie. If conditions were right would walk the shore casting for bass. We were envious of what we called rich city fishermen. They would launch there boats at the ramp by the dock. They would always have more than one rod, and at least one large tackle box full of lures. We would always ask if they would show us thier lures. I always looked with envy, and hoped that some day I would be rich and have a huge tackle box stuffed with the best bass plugs money could buy.
The odd thing was, when they would get back to the dock, they usually hadn't caught as many fish as my friend and I. They didn't know the lake well, and would fish all the good spots at the wrong time of day, or when the wind was blowing the wrong direction. We would never waste our time fishing the one shallow bay close enough to walk to when the wind wasn't blowing strong out of the west or the fish the opposite bank from the dock in the middle of the day. A strong west wind made it worth an hour walk to the bay to cast our Mepps spinners, and the opposite bank was great in the evening for a Hulla Popper. Any other time was better spent catching trout for dinner. One time one of the city fishermen asked me if I would show him where the fish were. It was a perfect day for walking down the creek for the small mouth bass. I took him to a few of the best spots and we both caught lots of bass. I asked him why he bothered to fish from the bank with me, when he had a boat and could fish anywhere in the lake. He replied he had been to that lake before without much luck, and we had caught more bass from the bank than on his other trips combined. He told me that local knowledge and time on the water was more important than nice gear and a big boat, even if the local knowledge was coming from a 13 year old farm kid. He told me I was so lucky to have access to such great fishing and the time to take advantage of it. Before he left he promised not to tell any one about the small mouths in the creek, and gave me a floating Rapala that was my favorite lure for many years. He told me a nice boat and great gear, is only good if you have time to use it and I should consider myself very lucky. I told my friend about the city angler and we both agreed that the man was right. Fishing is more fun than having great gear but no time to use it. Of course, I still dreamed of owning a big tackle box full of the latest and best. Even at that young age, the Bait Monkey was trying to work his way in to my life.
Now the situation is reversed. I have way to much gear, and very little time. Once a year or so I get a chance to fish with that same friend. He still brings one spinning rod, a few inline spinners, some crappie jigs, and a Jitterbug. He fishes almost every evening and all day on the weekends. I show up with all my gear, and constantly try to get him to try my rod, reels, lures, and modern super lines. He laughs and out fishes me with the gear he has. He always tells me he doesn't need any fancy gear to catch more fish than a city angler. I try and claim that I am not a city angler, but then realize who am I kidding.
Some days when the Bait Monkey has me on line ordering every new lure, line, or rod-reel, that I read about, I have to stop and tell myself, to spend less time reading and buying, and more time fishing. I hope to retire some day and be a country fisherman with a city anglers tackle box. Now to convince my wife, that the perfect place to retire is a small house, no yard, garden, or other time wasting luxury, 10 miles from a paved road, 60 miles from a shopping mall, close to a lake with big bass in it.