Yesterday and Tomorrow

The ritual was always the same. He would kick me out of bed at 4am. Mom would have poached eggs over toast for us ready on the table. We would discuss where we were going and any things of interest in the area. We would examine our rods and reels for wear. The first spinner of the day was tied on at the table to assure the knot was true in the light. Tying on a lure in the dark on stream many times was a recipe for disaster. The last thing he did before leaving the house was put on his hip boots. I always eyed up those hip boots. I wanted a pair just like them but they didn’t come in boy sizes.

We got in the van in the darkness and headed to our stream. Dad timed our arrival on stream to be as dawn broke. The trout seemed to be less weary in low light conditions. Many times the fog was still hugging the streams on our arrival.

For some mysterious reason the trout seemed to love the foggy mornings. Dad and I would have almost magical luck fishing in the fog. The fish were more plentiful and bigger when it was foggy. We even sat down a couple times on stream and talked about the fog and its magical properties.

The fog lifted and the trout shut down almost instantly. We usually had our limit by then anyway and were heading back to the van. Dad peeled off his hip boots and put on slip-on shoes at the vehicle. I was kind of a whiner and talked about my feet being cold and wet. Even if I stayed out of the water my feet always got wet from the dew in the grass. I wanted to grow up quickly so my feet would grow and I could get waders just like Dad’s. We had tried bread bags inside my shoes but my feet always ended up wet and cold.

http://lenharris.blogspot.com/2015/10/yesterday-and-tomorrow.html

Len,

Your stories bring back memories of fishing with my Dad, he to is gone now and I surely miss those early rainy mornings on the small creeks in NE Wisconsin fishing with him. One of our favorite to fish together was a small creek that you could jump across with a good running start.

The creek ran through a marshy area where the grass grew head high in large clumps that made walking very difficult. It made several sharp bends going through the marsh. The creek ran almost waist deep and under cut the banks on these corners enough that you could stick your leg completely under the bank. We caught some beautiful Brook trout from this section over the years.

I will always remember the one specific hole that held a big fish that had eluded us for many attempts at catching him. One morning while fishing in a nice light rain, dad was downstream from me fishing that hole when I heard him exclaim in a loud voice OOOHHHH NNNNOOOO, that big fish broke him off.

I know dad had missed that fish once before from his stories of fishing the creek alone when I had to be in school. Later that summer dad let me fish that hole on a rainy morning and I to had my chance at that big fish.

I approached the creek with caution making my way through the tall grass. I dropped my line with a nice fat garden worm on the hook into the water above the corner and it slowly sunk under the bank as the current took it deep into the hole. My line tightened up and I felt the tug of a big fish on the line that I held in my left hand. I tightened up on the line a little with my hand and again felt the tug of the fish. I set the hook and the fight was on, that fish took my line deep under the bank and then started up stream, I pulled back with as much force I dared. The 6lb mono was stretch to it’s limit and that fish would not give up, it never broke the surface of the water. It made another run back under the bank and got wrapped up in something under the bank and the fight was over as quick as it started, he broke me off!!!

Dad hearing the the noise from just up stream had made his way down and he had the biggest smile on his face as he said now you know the feeling of wanting to land that fish. We never did catch that fish and several years later the Otters got into that part of the stream and it was never the same after that. I have not been back in years to fish it, but I will one of these days and hopefully I will get a glimpse of dad fishing down stream.

made me smile.