Fishing 101

Old Trunks fished a few times as a child. Here are the remembrances. Conjour up yours, will you?

To begin, my apologies to anyone who fished in the city where two rivers meet. I did not know there were fish in the rivers which ran through Thief River Falls until I took a sixth grader to the dam and she caught multiple species with a pole and a safety pin. Shirley had two grocery bags full of fish to take home to her family and her neighbors.

I apologize to Soozi, who spend countless hours at the confluence of the Thief and Red River fishing with her dad and probably tossing more Red Devil lures for water wolfs than we will ever know.

My first recollection of fishing was actually not my own, rather one of the Jarshaw boys; either Sam or Irvin. We were in a small white runabout in the early 1950's. I only remember the boat because it sat on the north side of the drive way on Oakland Park Road. I remember him sitting on the fish in the bottom of the boat trying to get the hook out while the fish fought to get loose. The Jarshaw boys were big, strong men and he was having a time with it. It may have been a big pike or it may have been a muskie, I just remember Daddy telling me to get to the front of the boat.

Another time we were fishing and stayed in these really nice log cabins. It was too cold to swim but there were a lot of woods to explore. Greg and I went often but when a neighbor girl, who was there with her parents went by herself, she got lost. We did find her, she did not answer her step father's calls because she knew she would get a whipping for going off by herself. I know it was walleye fishing because my brother would lay in the bottom of the boat and sleep. Someone had to wake him to tell him he had a fish on. He caught the most fish. It was also the time that Daddy cut his hand while filleting the fish which were to be cooked outside in a pan on a grill made of stones. Most likely I didn't fish much because the idea of sitting perfectly still in the boat was not part of this young lass' nature.

Much later, we went to the Lake of the Woods with the Howick's. We where in a launch. It was a big boat painted blue. We broke ice. I am guessing the ice was in break up and looking down on it were pieces. I don't remember any fish, only eating Bunnie's wonderful fried chicken. Mother was not with us.

When we lived on the farm, Greg said he would like to go fishing. He was going with friends. We did not have a boat. Daddy was more than happy to get the tackle ready and pack a lunch for his son. Greg was picked up before sunrise by friends. A few hours later, Daddy went to the garage to go to town. His new Chevy had been rolled. Greg had not bothered to tell him. Imagine how he must have felt opening up that door and seeing his car totaled. Daddy and I went to town, to a Quonset building by the railroad tracks where Northern Chevorlet kept there extra cars. He bought another '58 Chevy; this one was white.

The last time I fished with my parents was in the spring of 1960. He had a bus that he had converted into a camper. It was painted with woodland scenes on the outside. Grandma Ranum had made the curtains, to conserve fabric, she had not matched the pattern, it was a bone of contention between her and mother. We left Kneale Avenue and drove to Kelliher. Sena and Tena lived there along with Eddie and Arnie. Sena and Tena were related and Daddy called Eddie his second cousin. Eggen's had a fine big old house with creaky floors. Arnie was a fabulous cook. Mother and Daddy slept in the house and their daughter, Janet and I slept in the bus. The next day, we would go to Washkish to fish. For those of you who know Minnesota, you know that is on the eastern side of Upper Red Lake about 125 miles from Thief River Falls.

I suppose we fished part of the day in a rented boat. Evening came and Mother and Daddy stayed in the bus while I went to a bank near the lake to at least try fishing. Something took my bait. I reeled and reeled and I got the fish unto the sand below. It was an ugly looking thing right out of a Japanese monster movie. I started screaming for Daddy to come and help me. I did not intend to touch such a fossil. Daddy called it a Sheepshead, also known as a fresh water Drum. I remember he told me they had rocks in their heads. Nevertheless, once released, I too, went to the bus and listened to the mosquitos buzz around Mother and she, with her 6 12 repellent attempt to kill them in flight.

I still had no clue what this fishing was all about.