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Testimonies: Memories of fishing without a pole

by Rex Trulove

Created on: March 29, 2008   Last Updated: October 31, 2008

It was in the mountains on a beautiful summer day, the first time I tried to fish without a fishing pole. The fun I had would lead to many other similar fishing trips, and created memories that will stay with me always.

I had not yet made it to my teenage years, yet by that summer there were a couple things I knew for sure; I loved to fish, and I loved the wilderness. During the summer it wasn't uncommon to see me engaged in one of the two activities, if not both at the same time.

That particular year, on that particular day, I decided to hike into an area I'd not previously explored. The area was high country, around 5,000 feet, and it was both rugged and heavily forested. However, since I already had a good idea of how to take care of myself in the woods and knew the general area pretty well, I took very little with me except a pocketknife, some matches, and a lunch. I had no other plans but to look around, after all.

I made my way through the country working gradually uphill, simply delighting in the sights and smells of the forest when, after walking perhaps 8 or 10 miles, I heard the faint but unmistakable sound of running water. Not one to miss the chance to investigate, I moved through the trees using the sound of the water to guide me.

When I found the stream, the beauty of it astounded me. The creek wasn't wide, no more than 10 feet at its widest, nor was it rushing to flow down hill fast. The water was just still enough to form a perfect reflection of the tree boughs that overhung the stream.

I stepped up to the water and saw at once that while it wasn't wide, it was at least four feet deep. Several logs jutted out into the water, and it was as I was admiring the stunning beauty of it all that I became aware that there were fish in the stream. From under one of the nearby logs, periodically a fish would dart out to take an insect off the surface of the water, and then zip back under its protective cover.

To my boyish eyes, the fish was huge, though in reality it was probably not much over 14 inches long. I had a dilemma. As much as I loved to fish, I'd not brought any fishing supplies at all, and certainly no pole.

I sat down to try to figure out a way to catch the monster fish, though it was obviously hopeless. As providence sometimes does, it favored me as I sat there. I happened to glance up into a tree about 30 feet downstream, and there in the lower limbs dangled something. Momentarily forgetting about the fish, I got up and went to investigate.

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