“Growing up in Oakton and Clinton”

If only I had a dime for every mile John Miller and I rode bicycles to fishing holes.  I hated a basket on my bicycle but would put it on just for a fishing trip and then remove it after.  I expect we were a sight riding down the road with a fly rod and a bass rod held across the handle bars.  We used two piece rods but they still stuck out.  I just had a small tackle box but it was more than enough for the hooks, quills and the two or three lures I had.  Hard baits were seventy five cents to a dollar each and that was about what I was paid for mowing a yard with a push reel mower.  No motors. About the only lure choice available was at Peggy Young five and dime as we called the Ben Franklin store.  About all that was available were Jitterbug, Hula popper and a Lucky 13.

   One of ourfavorite ponds near Clinton was the Gore sisters between Clinton and Croley.  The best part was stopping by the house to let them know who was there.  I have always loved history and they gave us a history lesson about every time we stopped.  I would forget about fishing they made it so interesting that it was like living it. 

   There were some good bass in the pond, but the bream were really nice ones, big and thick.  They loved a white popping bug with red spots and a black gnat was good as well.  Seems the bream in each fishing hole have their favorites and you cannot force feed them something they do not like. 

   We preferred the last hour of light out there.  We would leave just in time to be in Clinton by dark.  Traffic was not very heavy back then.  On one of these trips I stayed until dark and when I pulled my stringer out of the water a cottonmouth had swallowed one fish hole.  Not thinking I threw the stringer fish, snake and all into the water.  I should have known that a snake with a mouth full of fish cannot bite.  Lesson learned.

   After we started driving we changed to Mr. Harry Wayne and Jack Roberts ponds.  I was fly fishing a little pond below the hill from Jack`s parents one day and hooked a limb on my back cast.  Easily done as the trees ran to the water and the trail down the hill was the only place I could swing the line back to cast.  I did not notice until I cleared the snag and I looked and there Jack stood arms crossed and serious looking.  “Bobby,” he said, “ I told you to fish here all you want but leave my **** birds alone.”

   Eddie Roberts and I were fishing Mr. Wayne`s pond one day and were really catching a lot of bass on our bass rods.  We raised the stringer to put another one on and there was the biggest snapping turtle I have ever seen in a pond.  He was firmly latched onto one fish so I raised him to the top of the water and Eddie grabbed his tail.  We swung fish, turtle and all over the side into the boat.  Then one very agitated snapper reared back, with his mouth wide open, daring one of us to get close.  We decided that I would stick the sculling paddle out and when he clamped down Eddie would drive his hunting knife into its neck.  This was much easier said than done.  First he bit completely through the blade of my paddle.  I turned it around and he grabbed the thick end.  Eddie hammered and hammered with the heel of his hand before finally driving it into the turtle’s neck.  This is one stunt we never repeated.  Together Eddie and I corralled a lot of snakes both poison and otherwise but none were the challenge that that turtle was.

  Thinking of Eddie reminded me of our experiment with alcohol.  We bought a cooler of beer, groceries and headed to the river bank across from Wolf Island.  I remember Ronnie Beck, Toby Brady and Wayne Latta being with us and there were a couple more.  It was probably Johnny Miller and Skip Muscovalley as we were usually a team.  We set up camp in the woods and headed for the river bank to put out our throw lines.  While we were there we picked up a huge pile of driftwood.  We had already picked up enough wood for the camp and this was to build a fire on the bank of the river.

   When it got dark we grabbed our cooler and headed to the shore where we built a fire with some of the drift.  We then lay back in the sand and drank our beer and listened to the hounds running coons on the island.  This is what we went for.  Each coon hound had a different voice and we named them.  We could imagine what they were by the howl and how excited they were.

   When we decided to call it a night and head back to camp we were climbing up the steep part of the bank and Wayne fell twisting his foot.  We fashioned a loose splint on it and helped him back to camp,  We offered to drive him to the ER but he assured us he was OK.  When we woke Wayne was gone.  We packed all our supplies and headed to Clinton and called his mother.  She was not the happy camper.  She informed us that he came home in the early hours on morning with a hangover and a broken ankle.  She also informed us of his grounding when the cast came off.  Naturally our parents found out what we had been up to and we all paid, really paid.

        For a while Frieda and I lived next door to E. C. and Marion Wayne on East Clay st.  They were the kind of neighbor most only dream of.  This was before our girls were born.   Frieda worked at the bank and I had not been long at the Post Office and lots of days I would get home and Marion would meet me in the drive way.  She never asked but informed me that we were eating with them this evening when she gets home from work she will not feel like cooking, she would say.

    Now this usually meant a beautiful grain fed beef steak at least 2” before cooking.  She cooked each the way each wanted and then I wanted mine very, very well.  She always said, “I know you want yours incinerated.”  Now I know what she meant for there is not a restaurant that can try to cook a medium done steak without burning it up.  Oh for a restaurant that knows how to treat a steak and not turn it to ashes.

    They raised beagles and ran them a lot and I so loved seeing her as they left or came home with her hunting clothes on.  She was always the lady and such a surprise to see the tom boy come out in her.  Friends like them you never forget.