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Discussion Starter · #1 ·
When did life get so busy that you don't have time to fish. With two boys in baseball, coaching
one of the teams it seems that life is just flying
by. Running kids all around , work getting in the
way. Well Sunday I decided, enough. Time to go fishing. What kind of fishing? I asked myself.
Today it's Sleds, fish finders, Composite rods
$200 reels. Special baits and lures. Neoprene
waders, wading shoes. Etc Etc. Fishing seems more
complicated than it use too. When I was growing
up in the 60's. My dad would just take us boys up to the Coast Range and find a creek. Didn't know the name of it or anything but would just start fishing. Our poles had missing eyes and had an old
cruddy Garica reels that the bail long ago quit flipping over on the turn of the handle. Manual
over ride I called it. We would have a dozen worms and a couple of Little Cleos. We would be in shorts and tennis shoes and became acquaintet with nettles every trip. We would split up and a couple would head up stream and the other down stream. We would catch native cutts all day long and have a blast. So last Sunday I said what the heck. I grabbed the oldest beat up pole I had, threw in a half dozen Little Cleos and Rooster Tails in a pocket container. No vest, even though I own three. Never could afford a vest growing up. So I headed to the coast range. Found a creek I had never fished and off I went.Just shorts and tennis shoes just like the old days. Just like the old days, it did not take long to find the nettles. It was a glorious morning. The sun was out and the water about thigh high in the deepest
parts.Easy to wade. I came to the first little hole and cast my Red and White cleo up river. Dodging over hanging tree lims. I turn 4 cranks of the reel and, bam the end of the pole lurches down. The thrill I feel is the same as watching the pole go down at Buoy Ten or watching a crome bright North Fork Steelie launch out of the water. I reel the 10" native cut to my feet and he flips off the hook. Then I had that feeling all over again. I went back in time and recalled how I felt as a younster and what made me fall in love with fishing to begin with. I continued on fishing for a couple of hours and caught and release several cutts. None very big but appreciated as much as a 35 pound Chinook. So remember your roots guys and gals. I had a chance to relive mine Sunday and I plan on more in the future. Don't let life go by so fast that you forget the great times back when you first started fishing. Thanks all for listening to me today. Just wanted to let you know why I call myself the Trouttroller. I almost forgot.
Alan
:wink:
 

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Aah, yes, the hours I use to spend at the beaver ponds back behind the old house with nothing but worms out of the garden and my trusty Zebco closed faced reel. It has been years since I have thought of the times I use to leave the bail open on my best friend's reel eventually resulting in a whiffed hook set and a birds nest. :cool: That usually resulted in a trip or two around the cow pasture. :dance:

[ 06-04-2003, 01:35 PM: Message edited by: FallRiverGuy ]
 

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Fishing on it's most simple terms can often and usually is the most rewarding. Let's face it, most fish are'nt really all that more sofisticated now, fisherman and their gear are. Catching a nice little fish in a wild setting does bring back those good memories alot of us have had since kids. I hope to relive some of it with my son when the time comes. Glad you have your perpective in the the right place, thanks for the story and reminder.
 

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Good post!
Kind of nice to sit back and remember those days years ago. Bike to the river and spend the day with an old rod and reel and worms fishing for smallmouth bass but catching mostly carp. Catching one was as exciting as the other, it didn't really matter.
 

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What a great post...Memories of McKay creek west of Hillsboro. Fishing on my grand parents property with an old solid glass green rod and roostertails. Catching (& releasing most) beautiful native cutthroats...the weekend before the season opened of course, way to crowded opening day!! :grin:
 

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Just last weekend I found myself volunteering at the Oregon Food Bank warehouse on N.E. 33rd Avenue in Portland. When I left I realized that I was right across the street from the slough we used to bicycle to in the 60s in order to fill our bicycle baskets with bullhead catfish.

I hardly recognized the location, with all the "civilization" that's been built up all around since then, but I towed my youngest son over to have a look.

To my amazement, the slough itself doesn't look any different at all! And we had exactly zero, zip, NO fishing gear!! :depressed:
 

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I think the 'simplicity of it all' is why so many adults like clamming, and to a little lessor extent crabbing ('cause it requires more gear). Just you, a shovel, and the clams. And it gives adults permission to wallow around in the sand,water,mud and be kids again.

Another 'simple' sport is poke-poling at low tide amongst the rocks. It's more popular down south where they have the monkeyface eels (blemy fish).
 

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Ahh, going back in time...
Remember when there was NO internet, we did not have river gages to follow. We didn't have a clue about cfs, fish counts, temps, heck, the regs were confusing enough.
Just pack up the family and find some water and fish.
I think I shall toss my spendy flyrod in the closet for a while and grab that old fiberglass rod with the Mitchell 300 loaded with mystery line and go find a creek somewhere.
Thanks for the memories and keeping it real.
 

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Excellent post
Sometimes we all need to remember or be remineded(sp) of those good memories from days gone by. Today you helped me remember some of the time I had forgotten for a while.
 

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Good post


Sometimes you have to look at where you have been to remind yourself of where you are headed :cool:
 

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Discussion Starter · #13 ·
Thanks all who replied. I enjoyed all the stories.
What a great web sight. :grin:
 

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Ah yes. Mill creek in down town Salem. everday after school and all day Saturday. We even named the Holes "crawday tree, Trout bridge, the sewer hole <reall street drain>,chub rapids Winter St. and of course the Seceret Hole" We had so much fun catching fish.
I remember the day of the Columbus Day storm. It was a great day fishin and when the trees started falling we got on our bikes and were blown home with out peddling. Thoses were the days. Great idea for this thread.
 

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I just love stories like this.
I love the old time fishing memories, too.
Fishing with my Grandpa, fishing with my Dad and brothers...
You know, days when we would cruise the Molalla logging bridge roads and my Dad would have me in tears pretending, on a long steep curvy road, that our brakes went out?

Yeah, those days!

Let's hear more of them!
J
 

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When I was a kid, we were at Mary Hill campground. My sister was standing at the end of the dock whipping the water with a Pautzkies on a single egg hook(think snoopy pole) when she lets out a shreak. I look over and she's being dragged to the edge by what turned out to be a salmon. In all of the commotion, she lost the salmon. It's not the fish that I remember best, though. What I really remember was the biggest smile I had ever seen on my sisters face as she was struggling to keep from getting pulled in. She caught more fish on that silly bait caster than most people do in their entire lives.

Thanks for reminding me about that.
D.
 

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My fishing plans have changed for this weekend. This post brought it to my attention that my 5 year old probably has never caught a fish while not in the boat.

This weekend I will grab an old beat up fly rod and a couple of old spinning rods, dig some worms from the garden and head out.

I would agree with all of the above, this is a great post and we all need to remember that before we had boats, electronics and space age gear we still fished and still had fun.
 
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