Don Davidson's passion for fishing was born more than a decade ago when his parents bought a second home near the Rappahannock River on Virginia's Northern Neck.

Davidson had fished some before then, but now he had long weekends and lazy summers of angling with his father and friends.

"My buddies and I grew up down here exploring," said the 23-year-old Collegiate School graduate. "We'd go all over the place and camp out some times."

Mostly, they'd paddle the endless tidal rivers and inlets that give the area its distinctive character. He came to know them better than most because he was in a kayak, moseying along while others zipped past in motorboats bound for deeper water fishing spots.

It may not have been the fastest mode of transport, but the kayak gave Davidson an unusual approach to fishing the region. He knew the submerged structures striped bass liked to hide in and the grass beds where speckled trout hunted for minnows. He could enter the shallow reaches of coves others had to avoid.

This past spring, he decided to turn that approach and the knowledge he'd gained plying these waters as a kid into a business - Northern Neck Kayak, a touring and fishing guide service. And to up the degree of difficulty, Davidson decided to open his in the middle of his first year of medical school at VCU.

"It was a battle," he said of the balancing act. "I worked really hard."

Apparently, this is a Davidson family trait. Don's younger brother Scott started a business of his own, Craving Cookies, last year while a junior at JMU.

"It was definitely an impetus for me to get started," said Don, joking about a sibling rivalry.

I joined Don earlier this week to learn the ins and outs of kayak fishing the Northern Neck. He runs NNK from his parents' home on Dymer Creek, so we motored into the creek mouth toward the Chesapeake Bay with two kayaks in tow.

Our target was speckled trout, a beautiful and not-all-that-common species of trout that inspires a level of secrecy from those who target it. Davidson didn't want me to get too specific about the areas we fished, fearing an influx of motorboats. Suffice it to say, we weren't far from the Rappahannock River or Chesapeake Bay. How's that for not too specific?

Davidson explained, as we anchored and got into our kayaks, that the trout arrive in the area in July. During the day, they hang out in deep channels. Around dusk and throughout the night, the trout (as well as rockfish and other species) stalk shallow-water beds of submerged aquatic vegetation for the minnows of species like menhaden.

We set up our light spinning tackle with menhaden imitators that pop along the surface and got to work casting.

We had a couple of things working against us this night: the time and the weather. It wasn't quite dusk, and we had to battle the remnants of a thunderstorm system to get to our chosen spots. The water was murky, making it harder for the fish to see our lures, but on my first cast, I felt a tug not far from the kayak and saw the familiar swirl of what looked to be a good-sized speckled trout. He eluded capture, but I thought for sure this was a good sign.

Davidson pointed out the range of the grass beds, and we paddled along, stopping in different spots to cast and retrieve. The silence of a kayak wasn't just good for fishing. It added a sense of contemplative stillness to the evening. With the sun breaking through the storm clouds to the west and the Chesapeake Bay to the east, you'll have to forgive me for delaying a few casts to simply enjoy this fortunate accident of time and place. It's hard to get to that point with an outboard motor gurgling in the background.

It was surprising to hear Davidson talk about how few fellow kayak fishermen he sees, though that's probably good for business.

"It's a bit of a niche market," he said. "There are a lot of people down here that will take you out on big charter boats. In a charter boat, you have no possible way of doing what we're doing. They don't know how to fish the shallow waters or they don't think of doing it."

The evening wasn't great in terms of fish tally - a couple of bluefish and a few more near misses on trout - the weather saw to that. But it was an eye-opener. Fishing the waters of the Northern Neck isn't just about dropping in squid for croaker and spot.

More fun can be had skimming along under human power, trying to coax an elusive speckled trout to break the surface in search of dinner.