Fishing

When we lived in the Denver area I had occasions to go fishing. I was never much of a real fisherman. I was called to be a Assistant Scoutmaster in the Littleton area. At this time my oldest three boys were of scouting age. The first time I remember going fishing with them was when we went to Yampa, Colorado for scout camp. The boys caught some fish out of the reservoir. The fish were trout. They caught them with salmon eggs.



At a a later date, as a family we went back to Yampa and caught some fish. The spillway was great for catching fish too.

The Cheshire family had a reunion in Beaver, Utah. Below you can see us fishing. I do not think there was too much catching.



I suppose though, that the start of the fishing craze (at least on my part) was when we went to Beaver Lake up in the San Juan mountains in southern Colorado. We walked as a family up to the "lake". I was trying to catch fish, but was shown up by the boys when they discovered that they could catch fish by scooping them up with a plastic bag. They had fun doing this. Not much to say for their size though.







And, yes, those were three different fish.

But then no-one could outdo what Anita did when she went with her Uncle Emery in California.



Now comes the fish story. I was diligent at getting a daily workout by running. I worked at the Martin Marietta facility in Littleton, Colorado. The plant was near the mouth of Waterton Canyon, where the Colorado Trail starts and runs parallel to the South Platte River. As I was plodding along (running) up the canyon along the river, I noticed a fish that was apparently beached and inverted in the water. I supposed that it was dead. The next day I noticed the fish in a different spot. This time I determined that I would go grab the fish and throw it up on the bank for the critters to eat. To my surprise, when I picked up the fish it began to flail and fight. I grabbed it by the gills and hauled it back to work to show those at work. I knew they would not believe me if I did not show them.

Well, here is the photographic record of the fish.



A week later I was riding my bicycle up the canyon next to the river. It was probably February or March. The river was low. I looked off the left and noticed a fish that was swimming against the current. I supposed that I would scare it by throwing a rock at it. I stopped my bicycle and grabbed a rock that weighed a couple pounds and hurled it at the fish. I hit it. I floated up to the top of the water. I knew nobody would believe me without the evidence, so I jumped in the water (BRRRRRrrrrr) and grabbed the fish. It was interesting riding my bicycle back to work holding a fish over the handlebars that was long enough to hang down to the axle of the bike from above the handlebar. People stared at me as I road back down the canyon.



Since getting fish seemed to be a simple task I wondered what would happen if I really tried to catch some fish. I took my license and fishing gear and headed up Waterton Canyon after work one Friday. I was able to catch some fish. I was pleased to catch yet another fish that was at least 24 inches long, and a mess of other edible trout.



In the background you can see the kitchen cabinets are in the process of being replaced. And in the picture below you can note that the state of the kitchen was basically unchanged while fishing did not take a rest. I caught enough fish to encourage the boys to not like to eat fish.



The three older boys, Arlo, Craig, and Brian, all earned the fishing merit badge. I don't know if they learned to like fishing, or if it turned them to having had enough to last.

In commemoration of my endeavors in fishing and CATCHING fish Craig gave me a trophy fish.







Eric was reading over my shoulder and reminded me that he too earned the fishing merit badge.

There have been some fun times fishing. Jeanette and her cub scout den went fishing at the Johnson lake.



Come join us fishing some time.