1986 Fox River Report:
After a long day of playing hacky sack, playing on sega
genesis and listening to my brand new walkman. My dad comes home from work and
says we are going night fishing in Elgin !
Totally Awesome. I scarf down my mom’s famous chili. My dad takes the frozen
milk gallon filled with water and breaks it with a hammer for ice. I go down to
the basement fridge and grab crawlers, leeches, and chicken livers. He grabs
the lantern and the net and I grab rod-holders, rods, bells, and buckets to sit
on. We load the wagon and mom yells to be careful. I say something about
catching a body to gross her out and my father says to knock it off. He starts
the car, I try to sneak in a def leopard tape, he looks at it and says “No way
am I listening to that sh-t” I laugh and we are on our way. As we cruise down Lake Street we play
slug bug while he sings to Waylon and Willie
and the boys. We drive past the ADULT drive-in and laugh at the titles.
Now playing PussnBoots snicker snicker. He laughs and says “Daniel it does not
matter how far you stretch that neck of yours, you are not going to see
anything!” We turn down Slade
street and now my stomach gets nervous and I am
excited to get started. This is the part were I foolishly tell the best
fisherman in the world that I the zit faced mullet wearing punt is going to
kick his ass tonight! He is wearing some
very old bib over-alls some beat-up hat a trucker gave him at work.(which was
amazing in itself the mans head is huge) He chuckles and says “we will see what
we will see.” We each set up two rods
with Wolf river rigs. A wolf river rig is a bell or river weight with to
snelled eagle claw hooks above it . Each hook is a different size. There is a
small one on top for leeches, minnows, and red worms and a big one on the
bottom for crawlers, shrimp, and livers. Each rod is casted at a 45 degree
angle down river and placed in a rod holder. Then a clam on bell is put at the
top of each rod as a strike indicator. With in the first minute my ugly stick
bends to the breaking point and my bell is yelling at the top of its metal
lungs!! “I got it!” I jump on the rod and the fish is huge heaviest cat I
hooked this year. Even up stream its more than I can handle. Something is wrong
though. My old man yells “its you drag its too tight!” I fumble with the drag
the way women fumble their keys in horror movies. SNAP!!! I actually fall on my
ass. I start yelling and swearing. The happy hillbilly next to me just laughs.
Next I tie on a new rig only to throw my bell through the night across the
river. You see, your suppose to take them off BEFORE you cast. Now my mustached
nemesis is getting tickled at my misfortune. While I am tying I here get the
net! Dad gets a nice cat, then another. What the ….. I stand up and take a step
only to kick my lantern in the river. When I bend over to look my brand new
flash light falls out of my flannel shirt to its watery doom. Wilfred Brimley
over there is laughing so hard he cannot breath (my dad really looks like the
Quaker oats guy). I get into one of the pouts that only a teenager can gets
themselves into. I yell “I am going to the john” As I start walking up the hill
I hear his drag again! God hates me I mumble as I find the nearest big tree to
mark my territory. Right when I am in the middle of my business my bell starts
going hard. Holy cow!!! I wiz all over myself tryin to get my jeans right and
slide down the hill to my rod. What no fish! What gives??? My dad is holding
his belly just like Santa. He cannot talk he is laughing soooo hard in his hand
is MY BELL. About 30 minutes Later my dad gets a fish. He pulls it in 10 yards,
then it would stop. He give it some line, pull it ten yards and it would stop.
This goes on for a while and he says “dang it son, you give it a try.” The same
thing happens to me. Finally he grabs the rod and says game over and goes to
break the line. It gives! He reels in and it is heavy but not swimming. I shine
the light down and it is a cat wrapped around a log. This channel cat is now a
flat head because we were banging the poor fishes head against this log!!! Man
that was funny.
Things settle down I manage to catch a couple small cats and
the old man catches 4 for more. He has totally beaten my butt again. I have had
one of the worse nights fishing of my life. However with all that went wrong
this is one of my very most cherished fishing memories, worth its weight in
gold, and more important to me then many of my great nights I would have with
out the old guy.
To you younger fisherman: Get your dad and a camera and go
fishing. Carry everything, don’t complain, fish where he wants, Listen to his
music, talk his head off, hug him, thank him, and say I love you. For time is
moving just like the waters you fish and these opportunities will not always be
there. These trips are proof that there is a GOD and he loves you both.
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