Opening day for trout season

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The sun has been shining, the trees have leafed out, perennials are coming into their own and gardeners are as happy as the proverbial pig. It’s a wondrous time of year.

Did you get out on opening day to do a bit of trout fishing? My brother told me he was thinking of going out to the old farm and try his luck. It brought back great childhood memories of the opening of trout season. We would pick dew worms for several nights, go to bed at supper time, get up at midnight and Dad would take, depending on our age, two, three or four of us, crick crawlin’. We had to bait our own hooks and take the fish off, measure, and either throw it back or put it in the pail.

After several hours we headed home tired, dirty and happy. We would wash up and fall into bed. In the morning, we would help clean the fish (we all had to learn) then feast on fresh trout. We always had a good feed because Dad knew all the holes and stumps where they hid and he always gave us the best spots.

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We were lucky enough to have Brandy Creek, a branch of Big Creek, flow through our LaSalette farm. Most of it was a fast moving stream but there was one part that was swamp where we would catch pollywogs and chase snakes but in the creek itself we did a lot of fishing, watering our horses, splashing and wading in our little piece of heaven.

I have to admit I do not want to ever again pick dew worms, get up at midnight, venture into the bush in the dark, crawl over fallen trees, tangled branches, snarled grasses and weeds along a muddy, slippery creek bank. I do wish every seven, 10-, 17-, 29-year-old gets to do just that with their Dad. The trout was delicious, made better by the fact we caught them ourselves. We didn’t know it at the time but it was a life-lessons experience and had little to do with trout.

Talked to Tim a couple days later and he said he didn’t go and he heard it wasn’t very good fishing anyway. He told me Dad always said if there weren’t any black flies there won’t be any fish. Dad never told me that so I think he got a bit nostalgic and didn’t want to share the memories with outsiders.

Life was simple back then. We didn’t worry about germs, getting dirty or black flies. Mom rubbed us down with some really stinky bug repellant I am sure is now banned. No hands sanitizers or wipes. We got rid of worm and fish gunk by rinsing our hands in the creek and drying them off on our muddy pants before we ate the sandwiches Mom packed for us.

Well, this is not at all what I started out to write. I kind of took a left turn down Nostalgia Lane but it all put me in such a mood I went out and picked dandelion greens for supper.

twocentsworth40@gmail.com

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