A Walk Down Memory Lane

[Fenelon]

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.

[Habs]

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.

[Pat32rf]

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.

[LiveBates]

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.

[MikePal]

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

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 :

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.

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.

[Rodbender]

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 .

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 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

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
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

[JBen]

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

[Rodbender]

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

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

[Fenelon]

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.

[Pat32rf]

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....