A Walk Down Memory Lane

We've touched on a topic in another thread that tickled some old memories I have of fishing as a kid back in the 60/70's when we went camping or headed down to the river on our bikes.

It sure was simpler back then, hardly ever had access to a boat, only a rich Uncle had one up at a Round Lake near Killaloe where we visited ever so often, It was a 14' tinny with a small Johnson that barely lifted the bow out of the water with 2-3 of us in it.

Most of my fishing was shore fishing or off bridges, docks and piers. I spend a whack of my summer days fishing by myself off the old public pier by the lighthouse in Kincardine as a young lad using nothing but hot dog pieces, grubs/worms I would dig up at the camp site. Never even owned a lure till I had a paper route.

Living in Kitchener (near the old Hiway Market) we used to bike down to the Grand River on Sat morning and shore fish for most of the day, Mom hated it when I would bring home and old stinky carp...

I wonder if kids even bother fishing by themselves anymore ? Most kids Dad's seem to own Boats now and haul themselves around big Lakes on the weekends. I don't imagine too many shore fish anymore. I hardly see any kids fishing from bridges along old country roads and in the villages anymore. Used to be hard to find a spot on the government docks, but I rarely see folks fishing off them on a cool summers eve anymore

How about some 'Old Foggy' stories of being a kid and going off fishing with your bike, a cheap rod and just a hook and a bobber.

Stop it Mike!!!! I'm tearing up a little.:fish:

Most parents are too protective now. I grew up beside the south saugeen and walked it for miles searching for smallmouth bass or blackbass as we knew them back then.

Used to hop on the bike to fish the outflow of the old Coal Gen at the bottom of Leslie street. Rainbows in the fall, smelt runs in the spring. Few time as young teens the TTC to other places. We always had a cottage growing up, so probably by the time I was 10 I was allowed to take the tinny out by myself on Chemong, by 12-13 I was taking canoe out by myself on the Pigeon.

Dont know how many nights I'd be on the front lawn with hot mustard getting worms for the coming weekend.

I moved from Toronto to St. Marys when I was in grade 8 and I spend many hours in the spring fishing for Speckled Trout in Trout Creek near the train bridge.

There was a huge local gravel pit that the railroad used for track bed material and through the center of this pit was a creek formed from springs percolating through the gravel. It had a very nice population of specks. We'd sneak up to the shore and when a speck darted under overhead cover, we'd toss as large a boulder as we could lift into his hiding spot. Anything that came belly up we'd grab. A poor kids dynamite I guess.
I never owned a fishing rod til I was much older--usually it was hand me downs from my older brother. All we did was cut a long, whippy birch or willow stem, wrap the end with that old black nylon line and toss it into the water, usually baited with a leopard frog. I caught a pile of pike doing that.
My first rod was the old square steel thing with a Shakespeare True Blue casting reel. There must be one or two of them around the house somewhere--still with the obligatory birds nest.

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Originally Posted by sawbill

, usually baited with a leopard frog. I caught a pile of pike doing that.

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I had forgot about using live frogs....yes indeed they worked !!

30 years ago, I was used to leave from the familly farm with my three pieces bamboo rod, set with 5' of 20lb test line, a split shot and some big worms that I dug up from the pile of cow manure. It was a 45 minutes walk, thru field full of cows, fences and bush to get downstream. The creeks I fished were anywhere from 1' to 10' wide and from half a foot to 10+ deep. The average speckled trouts was 8" and the big one around 15" but 30 years prior to that a 3 pounder was common. Grandpa, who taught me all of it, always blamed the invation of the car, before that only locals were fishing those places but then people from the city shows up. They were long gone at my time though, not too many people were fishing this creeks anymore. It was pretty much all for me, the only thing I had to be carful was bulls and vipers. And CO, but grandpa also taught me how to deal with that....
I know some of my cousin kids are still going out but the quantity of the water is not that good anymore, few degrees warmer and the level have dropped too.

I remember when I was a kid not being able to wait for the spring walleye run in the river. Some time in February when the river was mostly ice free, I would get my dad to drop me and my friend off at the river. I remember there would still be snow on the ground and it was cold but that didn't stop us from spending the day there. We would build a fire to warm up and cook hot dogs on the end of sticks. From that point on we would fish the river right to the end of fall, caching are own bait, worms, bugs, minnows, crayfish,frogs you name it. When we got old enough to get are hunting licences and carry shotguns we would do combo duck hunts and fish. Ah the memory's, I feel sorry for this generation of children growing up with there Xbox's and I pads. They don't know what there missing, Sad.

50's

Have fond memories of sitting with Dad on the pier at Port Stanley fishing for perch. Nice hook scar too.

When the smelt ran we had bonfires on the beach as we hauled in nets of smelt.

Also remember trout fishing with Dad. One day , I caught the biggest trout - in a quart basket. Just scooped him up in the eddy. :)


edited to add a date

I was about 10 when I got my first boat, still remember it well and which I had pictures of it. I was given 3 blue 45 gal drums that I layed down and using scrounged 2x4's I bolted 2 of these side by side and the 3rd in front of the two. I them cut a hole or cockpit in the tops of them. The front barrel held the battery and tackle and the back two allowed two of us to sit and steer the electric motor. Man did we get some looks and laughs both fishing in it and towing it behind our bikes to get it to the river. We caught a lot of pickerel out of that for a few yrs. The days when things were just simple

My earliest fishing was a buddy and myself , digging some worms , at a manure pile . We went to a close by crick, and had a great time catching chub, sometimes some pretty good sized ones. Later when I had learned to ride a bike , we went to the Beaver river for specks. I caught a pile of fish with a willow stick with some line wrapped around the end. The fish were more numerous then, than today, and no trespassing signs , hadn't been invented.old243

I did a lot of creek fishing with my chums. Hop on the bikes n go! But my most vivid memory would be a good old fashioned sword fight with a buddy (using our rods of course) I ended up at the hospital with a hook deeply embedded in my finger! Oh ya, a trip down memory lane for sure!

My younger brother and I used to spend countless hours fishing the Otonabee River from shore below Lock 19. Every evening after supper we would head down and fish with Jitterbugs and Hula Poppers until well after dark. You just couldn't beat the excitement of hearing something big nail the top water bait in the dark. I think we started doing this when I was around 10 and my brother was 6. Most parents these days (probably me included) wouldn't dream of leaving their kids unattended after dark near the river.

One summer day few years later, we noticed a family on the opposite shore reeling in some big carp. Of course we just had to know how they were doing this so we got on our bikes and headed around to meet these folks. They had recently come to Canada from Greece and somehow they had figured out how to catch carp. I don't know whether they brought that knowledge with them or learned it after they got here. Anyway, these folks were glad to give us the "recipe" and away my brother and I went to cook up a batch of this magic carp bait. It worked like a charm and we had summer after summer of big fish action after that. This would have been in the late 80's some time and carp fishing wasn't too big of a deal. My brother even won a local tournament one year by exploiting a "loophole" in the rules. It was a kids tournament and "most weight in total fish" would win. They weren't specific about species so I suggested to my brother that he should fish for carp. In the last 1/2 hour of the tournament he landed a 20-pounder and won the tourney. The next year, wouldn't you know it - "No carp allowed".

Of course the best fishing trip, the one we waited all summer long for, was the "Labour Day Trip". My Grandpa, Dad, Uncles, a few family friends and a few of us kids would head out on some sort of 3 day camping, portaging and fishing trip into some crown land backcountry. These memories stayed with us forever. We've recently rekindled this trip only now Grandpa is long gone, we do the heavy work for the Dads, and our kids are just old enough to come along. A perfect end to every summer.

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Originally Posted by Bushmoose

I ended up at the hospital with a hook deeply embedded in my finger! Oh ya, a trip down memory lane for sure!

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Ah yes..the inevitable tip to the ER :) I was casting along the creek at Round Lake and the line caught up in a tree behind me, so I tugged and the hook came flying out and struck me, just above my ear and embedding it into my head. The girl I was fishing with had to cut the line, leaving the worm still hanging there. Dad then had to drive me into Barry's Bay to get it removed. I was maybe 10 at the time and I still keep in touch with that girl.

Trip to ER.
Later in life, would have been 18 or 19 a friend and I drove to the cottage on Chemong, ended up burying a hook in my finger. Off to PTBO we went, but we decided I needed some fortitude first. So there I was in the "ballet" with a 6 inch Rapala hanging from hand and a cold one in the other.

Recall another time in our teens we were crossing a farmers field to hit a small creek. Had to crawl under the electric fence. It didn't go so well.

My grandparent didn't own a car so the trip to the ER for hook removal was no further than the kitchen... Moonshine and Mitosyl were grandmas remedies for pretty much everything!

I can recall quite vividly going for afternoon sits on the old St. Williams pier, circa 1970, with my grandpa. He would have my grandma call me up on our party line and tell me if I wanted to go fishing to get on my bike and head to their place, which was only about ½ mile down our road. Once at their place, I knew the drill - get the worm bucket, the garden spade, and go turn some loam soil over beside the wood pile looking for earthworms.

Then it was time hit the road, at the whopping speed of 60 kph, which was my grandpa's self imposed maximum. We never caught anything of significance, just small perch and sunfish that we tossed back, although I can recall one outing where someone on the pier caught a mud puppy. On the way back to the car afterwards, my grandpa would flip me a quarter so I could buy a pop and a bag of chips at the little mom and pop store beside the parking lot, for the ride home. Those were good times.

I grew up on the Speed river in Preston ! Carp , Bass , Pike , Cats , Suckers , Trout , Perch and Shiners that river had it all ! Best memories were heading up to Harrison Park in Owen Sound for Brookies on the May 24 weekend with the Family camping and fishing with Dad and day long walks while fishing up to Inglis Falls ....bet you can't do that now ! THIS IS A GREAT THREAD !
THANK YOU ! Glen

Well born in 83 and can't go way back in time as some but yes I did just miss the generation of computers and all that crap.

The biggest memory of my younger years was always the 2 weeks to Sandbanks campground. Not the PP But the private one right on the sand dunes.

After everyone was done swimming for the day we would get on our air mattresses and paddle out to the floating swimming platform out in the bay.

Roll of fishing line, splitshot, hook, and a container of worms and we were good to go for the night. Sunfish and Bluegills kept us busy and our stomachs full. Ah man can almost taste those fish while writing this. Cleaned insides stuffed with a slab of butter and a lemon wedge. Wrapped in tin foil and onto the BBQ. Supper around the campfire right on the beach at the Private Park was amazing.

Although I remember my being so sick of sand by the end of the two weeks. Lol.


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I too have many fond memories of growing up as a kid in Courtice, back in the 70's. It was all rural farmland back then. Creeks like Farewell were loaded with brookies, suckers, and monster creek chub up to 10 inches long. Word would get out that it was time for an expedition, and the provisions would be rounded-up. One of us would steal Mother's fry pan. Another would get flour in a bag, with a bit of salt and pepper. Butter in a cloth, and a can of beans would usually round it out. There would always be dessert - usually a bottle of Crown corn syrup, or a frozen can of orange juice. We'd all be "packing heavy" with cheap Barlow pocket knives. Most of us had those cheap POS Crappy Tire bait casting rods that were worth about two bucks (bright yellow fiberglass rod and black plastic handle). The fancy kids would have a Zebco 202 on it. Most of us had a 10 foot piece of line tied to the top guide, with a stolen nut from your father's workbench, to act as your sinker. Anything that swam, or crawled, was fair game. Hard to beat a "feed" of spring suckers, fried in butter in a cast iron pan. I remember back then there were always monster white elm trees that had recently died from the first dose of Dutch elm disease. The dead trees were sometimes 4-5feet in diameter, with the big sheets of dead bark still attached. We'd peel the bark sheets off, and make a wigwam fort. Inside we'd make a flat rock hearth, and caulk it all down with creek clay. I remember a pile of smoky eyes as we'd fry up the fish in the pan. We'd boil up crayfish, and the odd grackle or blue jay even got fried-up if one of us had got lucky with the wrist rocket slingshot. Us older kids would be 9 or 10, but there would always be the younger 6 or 7 year old brother who'd tag along, not wanting to be left out. I remember the one kid's brother Gordy, who always managed to sh#t himself on every trip. We'd peel him down and use his socks and gitch to clean him up. He's get tanned when he got home - late for dinner, soaking wet, covered in dirt, with a bare arse, no socks, and covered in sh#t! Then we'd all be getting the ivy rash starting 3-5 days later. I remember little Gordy getting "rolled" by a farmer who shot at us with rock salt, when he sneaked up on us when we were stealing some sweet corn for our bush meal. The kid couldn't have been older than maybe 8 at the time. All he had on was a pair of shorts, and a pair of hand-me-down workboots. He took a full load of rock salt up his back, in his scalp, and down the back of his legs. His brother told him to stop crying, or they'd get in hell when they went home and their mother saw the mess. We'd run the ditches on the way home, looking for pop bottles to cash-in for a pop or a popsickle on the way home.
Boy, those were some prime days. I wouldn't trade a minute of it for any money in the world. So very sad how things have changed in such a short time. Kids sit and look at a cell phone now. I'm glad I was a kid in the 70's.

What a great thread. From my first fishing memory onward I was taught that we need to respect the great resources we have here in Canada-especially in our cottaging lake. We could catch the smallmouth and the rainbows in ours, and the pike from nearby lakes, but I also remember how many panfish we caught..... Typical kids baits like hotdogs, worms, frogs, grasshoppers etc. It was almost as much fun to get bait as it was to fish.....I remember the unspeakable things we used to do to the rock bass in our lake...man that goes back more than "#&" years..... I was always told that rockies eat all the eggs and baby bass in the late spring, and I thought that was awful. My cottage buds and I would run a virtual genocide program of rock bass all summer long, totalling daily/weekly and monthly numbers to see who "won"... we ate a few sure (they taste terrific, and to this day I still say pumpkinseeds are the best tasting panfish) but most would be counted by a 2nd party and buried away from the cottages.... man I can't tell you how fast the coons will dig up a shallow pit of buried rock bass overnight and leave just a bit of a mess.
We used to catch them on the aforementioned livebait/cooked bait on a strange spoon-type lure that in profile looked like the letter U...treble at the bottom and line tie at the top on one arm.....
I totally agree that no parent in their right mind nowadays would let a bunch of little kids explore the fascinating world of nature the way we used to as children, unsupervised at the water, occasionally in the dark (can you imagine in todays world).... and in a way that's a shame. They were some of the best times I've ever had.

Fenelon- Must be older than you...Started hanging out in north Courtice about 1950. Grandparents owned the farm where the trailers are stored. By the time I was 12 we were "borrowing " my uncles guns while exploring south of Pebblestone. Collected thousands of empty hulls from the Oshawa Skeet Club when it was at the gravel pit. Once the pit started to grow in we would spend Sat collecting frog legs.
Dad and his siblings went to school with the Courtice boys and I now have a gun that one of them took overseas.

When I was about 6 or 7 I started venturing out for suckers down at Port Credit. I lived behind the junkyard on Ogden Ave by the French school. Now I wasn't allowed to go south of the train tracks on Ogden, but every Sat morn my Dad would never ask where I've been since 6am, even though I'd ride up on my bike with my fishing rod. He knew exactly where I'd been. I'd ride down to the peir by the sisters smoke stacks, and fish until my 2 or three snags were up. I don't know why, probably excitement, but I'd always only bring 2 or 3 hooks and only one bobber. I also remember going on "Sunday Drives" with Dad. I don't even think he knew where we'd end up, but we always found a bridge or a creek to fish for an hour or two. In grade 6 we'd moved to Milton where they'd stock the pond with trout for the derby. My Grandma would call the school and say I was going to be sick and I'd go catch a trout or two and bring them back to her place for lunch. I remenber feeling like a man having a trout lunch with Gram's, and forcing down a small warm glass of beer at lunch. I wouldn't trade the amount of freedom I had as a kid for anything in the world, nor do I give my son the same amount. He does have a longer leash than most of the kids I know around, But, He also knows it can be taken away if not used properly. Thx for the thread, thought about memories I havn't thought of in a long while.

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Originally Posted by Pat32rf

Once the pit started to grow in we would spend Sat collecting frog legs.

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Queasy memory of times spend catching bull frogs out near the barn..there was this great pond beside the pig barn that grew huge bull frogs. So I would swim out and catch them. Then I got really sick there one summer and nearly died. Turns out the water for the pond came from inside the pig pens wash. But as they say, if it doesn't kill you it only makes you stronger....I have rarely been sick a day in my life after that. It was a good boost to the immune system :

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Originally Posted by LiveBates

I also remember going on "Sunday Drives" with Dad. I don't even think he knew where we'd end up, but we always found a bridge or a creek to fish for an hour or two.

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That was something I don't think family's do much of theses day. The Sunday drive....it was mid 60's and we would head out, the 4 kids sitting in the back of the old station wagon (no seat belts) and just aimlessly drive around the back roads. We'd stop at the 'Look Outs' and when Mom was getting the lunch put together we would head off and explore or grab the rods and head for the shore. Saw a lot of Ontario back then, used to love driving down Hwy 7 and stopping at the Souvenir Shops.

Well as a kid a was really privileged Dad had a good job (Brampton Hydro) and loved to fish and hunt. Not sure what year I started to fish but I know my Mom was pregnant with me when they camped at Mikesew PP in july I was born that August :D.

I grew up fishing speck's in the spring in the Saugeen, Rocky Saugeen Muddy saugeen and the mad river.thne camped at Cregleith PP for bow's and splake every May 24 weekend in a sportspal canoe on the calm days . In the summer was always at Mikesew PP for smallies and jumbo perch.

At 8 years old I started to get into fly fishing and took an adult course for fly tying and stayed with that course till I was 20.


My Dad took me everywhere on weekends to fish unless he was working or playing Lacrosse some where like Detroit or Buffalo those days I'd head by myself to Etobicoke Creek and fish for chub .

On the holiday's from School I'd say at my Grandparents for a couple weeks in Erin fishing Speck's in local waters west Credit was awesome :D eat pickled leaks and air dry Fiddleheads on the picnic Table out back.

When I got to 12 or 13 Dad would take me on the Men's trip to anywhere from Red Squirrel RD to Howard lake in Kirkland lake and anywhere in between was always Labour day week end :D

When I got my drivers I was always after school or work at the Forks of the credit fly fishing browns and get home in the dark to my mother nattering how I missed dinner :O

All of those day's I miss


Then there's the huntíng part but I wont go into that :D
lol well my first duck shot Stubble field small water hole in front of us no lay out blinds camo and big licenses on the back of my Dad and uncles .
so anyway hen Mallard comes in dad is following her with the Itaca 12 gauge says no she come back you take her I got a single shot 410 Cooey and paper shells :O

well that was my fist duck and I was 8 years old I was the dog for a few years before that and that is where my Bird fascination came from and I have studied them since :D

First line: Dad worked in Brampton
Last line: Forks of the credit.
Lol, jeez K, what took you so long :)

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Originally Posted by JBen

First line: Dad worked in Brampton
Last line: Forks of the credit.
Lol, jeez K, what took you so long :)

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Scary spot with the gorge my Aunt and Uncle lived right beside the Caderact inn for years :O

For the record J we had the 3rd inground pool built in Brampton :D

Hey Pat - Re: farm with the trailers - are you referring to the old Gearing Gardens potatoe plant on Tooley's Road? we used to ride our bikes up to Taunton Road at first light, then stash them in the bush. We'd fish the creek all the way back to Nash Road. It would almost be dark by then. My Dad would drive us back the next day to get our bikes. It almost makes me cry if I see the creek now. It's barely a trickle now. I can't believe they were allowed to develop the headwaters like they did. It used to be absolutely packed with brookies up to 15 inches. I remember sucker runs where every pool was black for miles. My favourite section was the piece from Mclean's laneway bridge, south to Nash. You'd catch a trout in every pool. there used to be a ridge called 'Bone Hill" back in there, where we all carved our names into a big beech tree. I wonder if it's still standing now. I remember fishing at Happy Hollow as a kid. That pool used to be a good 15 feet deep. it would always hold a few nice one pound brookies. It was our swimming hole, and we'd dive off the old highway bridge railing. I drove down there last summer and the old highway road is closed. there's a bandstand there now, and a memorial plaque indicating that a mill used to stand there. The creek is a mere trickle now. I had to laugh, as they got the history wrong on that one. The remains of the mill are a good 600meters upstream from where the plaque sits. the mill was on the west side of the creek, right where the Black creek meets Farewell. When I was a kid, the walls were still standing, and we used to piss off the top, onto any of your unsuspecting buddies that happened to wander down below. I remember it coming down in about 1975 during a big summer storm.

The farm was right on Courtice Rd. Grandfather bought it just before the depression, ran from about Westmore to a spot across from Holyrod. He lost it during the depression but was allowed to keep the few acres(ten) at the north end. His buddy built the last house and his was the second last. Shared a "U" shaped driveway well and septic systems. Out back were the vineyards and orchards. I pulled up the satellite shots on Fish On and it was very detailed, showing the garage/workshops, My uncle finally bought the north house, (green roof) while my grandmother lived out most of here life in her home. (moved to a home because of the second floor bathroom, died 6 years later at 105).
At one point we clad both of the insulbrick houses in asbestos siding, never needs paint, fireproof, wonderful stuff. Instead of a tile bed, the septic tank drained west thru the field to the waterway at the edge of the bush. Both garages were made from old GM parts crates that we stripped down as a family project. No building permits, but those who built knew how to do it....

Geez guys, I'm feeling all nostalgic! I grew up in Newfoundland, and I remember walking with my dad over huge miles of bog (marsh) to get to a little honey hole. A bobber with a worm was the way to go, and we never returned home empty handed. At that time we could keep 2 dozen brook trout each, so we always enjoyed a big meal of trout when we got home. Those were great days. It is what fostered my love for fishing. Thanks for the walk down memory lane.

Old Memory Lane, grew up in old Galt On. now Cambridge, just up the hill from Soper Park and Mill Creek, fished for specks there and up the creek into the country for browns . South of us there was Moffat Creek which also had specks and downtown Galt the Grand River, we fished for suckers, carp and the odd bass, the carp sure made my parents roses grow well and flower.

As we grew up , in 1958 parents bought a cottage at Sauble Beach on the river and then we got into rainbow trout fishing , there and on the Rankin river that flowed into the Sauble.
From there on expanded into fly fishing and when I got my first wheels , away I went with friends fishing all over, before I got my first car, spent a lot of time and put many miles on my bicycle fishing little lakes around Galt for bass and pike, blue gills, catfish and then got a small motorcycle and just extended my fishing territory as far as Durham On. , great enjoyable times .

If only we could bring back those days , nowdays if you spend anytime in Soper Park your chances of getting mugged and beaten up are quite high as we often read about it in the K.W Record, and beaten up for what ? they steal your cell phone .
What a crappy world it is these days.

Does Soper creek run thru Soper Park? Newcastle area? Been 60 years but the name brings back good memories as well.
I'm over 70, been making good memories all my life.
Last year our GP told me that the cancer had returned and sooner or later I would die as a result. He could not understand why I was not all upset and depressed. Might have two years or 12, no way to know. Might also get hit by bus.....still time to make a few more memories.

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Originally Posted by Pat32rf

Does Soper creek run thru Soper Park? Newcastle area? Been 60 years but the name brings back good memories as well.
I'm over 70, been making good memories all my life.
Last year our GP told me that the cancer had returned and sooner or later I would die as a result. He could not understand why I was not all upset and depressed. Might have two years or 12, no way to know. Might also get hit by bus.....still time to make a few more memories.

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The creek I am referring to is called Mill Creek, it does run through Soper Park, but in Cambridge On. which is a combination of 3 towns , Galt , Preston and Hespeler On., forced amalgamation in 1973.
It's headwaters are up around Aberfoyle On. where the Nestle Co. bottles millions of gallons of pure spring water.

Soper Park that I am referring to is in the old Galt On. part of Cambridge, and Mill Creek runs through it and the old Galt city emptying into the Grand River at Water St., it runs under the old Galt Knitting Co. which made Tiger Brand underwear, and was owned by the Warnock family , started by old Col. E.G. Warnock , then taken over by his son James Warnock and also renamed " Tiger Brand Knitting Co. ", I worked there part time during High School years at G.C.I &V.S.

Sorry to hear about your health, keep a positive outlook and there is a good possibility that you can stretch it out to 12 years ,:thumbup:

As kids our family didn't have much money so dad built a rowboat and hauled it to the nearest lake. I can still remember him in the back yard tarring the bottom to seal the cracks. We had an Evinrude 3.3 to push it but mostly we ended up rowing because as kids we weren't strong enough to pull the rewind. If it didn't start on the first or second pull then we rowed.
We had an old reel loaded up with that heavy green cotton line that you could get one or two years out of before it rotted away. We'd hook up the only troll we had and tow that thing around the lake. It probably never sunk down more than 5 feet which is why we never caught one fish but we fished day in and day out anyway.

I know it’s an old thread but I thought I’d bring it back to the top. These are some great stories being shared.

My memories don’t stretch nearly as far but I consider myself fortunate. My uncle had a cottage on nipissing and we went there often in the summer and fall. The fishing in the 80’s was incredible. Pike, walleye and bass all off the dock with just worms and a float.

My grandparents owned a place in Paris with the grand river in the backyard. Some summers I was lucky enough to spend a couple of weeks with them alone. My grandmother would feed me 24/7, that kitchen never took a break. My grandfather was into antiques and restoration. He spent most of his time in his shop fixing things. When I had a chance I would sneak down the ravine to the river which was right by a train bridge. There was a set of falls there. I would use caught crayfish for bait. They were under every rock. I would catch small mouth bass and chubs. I wouldn’t fish long as I knew my grandparents would worry, but in a short time I could manage dozens of fish. There were always a few anglers in waders fishing the middle of the river, I never understood why. Fishing was awesome as a kid. Every fish, big or small was a trophy. The nights laying in bed thinking of the days success, would lull me to sleep.

I was raised in Ottawa and in my youth, my friends and I used to bike down and fish the Rideau River at Billing’s Bridge. For a couple of summers, we would go almost every day. We caught tons of panfish and one of the lads even caught a musky. As we got a little older, we ventured further away and fished Dow’s Lake and the canal where we caught lots of carp and I caught caught my first walleye although I didn’t know what it was at the time. We used to pose for the tour boats that cruised up and down the canal… they took so many pictures of us with our fish, we felt like celebrities. When I was 15, we started biking out to Black’s Rapids and did quite well on bass and walleye in the evening.

This past summer, a childhood friend of mine and I went back to check out some of these spots. Lol, the river doesn’t look as big and deep as it did back in the 1970’s. Just for kicks, we tried our luck at Black’s for a couple of hours and my buddy introduced me to sluggos. Living up north now, I don’t get many opportunities to fish for bass, but I did manage to land a couple. Funny, but I remember the fishing being much better there when I was a kid.