Where you fished as a kid?

Steve Saville

Active Member
I grew up here in Washington. I wet waded the Toutle when I was about six years old. Then we moved to Tacoma and I fished the Old Sperry Dock, Old Tacoma Dock, and the Dickman Mill remains. Only the Tacoma Dock is still here. Later, at about 12, I spent summers at my aunt's house on Burley Lagoon (Purdy) and fished from an 8 ft. pram with my cousin. The Perch were plentiful then. Not so much now.
 

bakerite

Active Member
the old piers at Edmonds & the boat docks in Anacortes. push button reel one piece rods. trying for perch mostly getting bull heads. the adventure was getting down to the piers either on our bikes or walking. where i lived it was all down hill to get there and then all up hill coming home. same place i learned to skim board when it really was a small town. none of this condo's everywhere you have now.
I too grew up fishing the piers of Edmonds. We would go down on the boat piers to get pile worms then fish on the kiddies fishing pier or the one that used to be just North of the Ferry Dock. We also mostly caught bullheads. Sometimes we could get a ride and fish off Haines Wharf in Meadowdale or my mom would take me to Thomas Lake to fish for bass, crappie and cutts. That was where I learned to fly cast for 8 inch largemouth bass.
 

skyrise

Active Member
I too grew up fishing the piers of Edmonds. We would go down on the boat piers to get pile worms then fish on the kiddies fishing pier or the one that used to be just North of the Ferry Dock. We also mostly caught bullheads. Sometimes we could get a ride and fish off Haines Wharf in Meadowdale or my mom would take me to Thomas Lake to fish for bass, crappie and cutts. That was where I learned to fly cast for 8 inch largemouth bass.
bakerite, these were the Old old piers at that time. actually sorta of dangerous just walking out on them. they would never leave them open to the public these days. this was when getting on the ferry was driving down main street. not much of a line up back then.
 

Jeff Peacock

Active Member
Grew up in New Mexico fishing the Rio de los Pinos, Rio Grande box and the Chama in the north, and the Gila and Whitewater Creek in Southern NM.
My dad and uncles took me on quite a few hikes into the Gila to an area called red stone on the Whitewater. Amazing evolution in the coloration of the cutthroat and gila trout there- the entire under side of the fish was bright red to match the river geology. Would love to do that fishing hike again- lord that was 50 years ago.
 

streamer7

Member
Grew up fishing a couple of different spots when I was a young kid. Only close spot in the middle of Tacoma was China Lake. I’d have just enough time to strap my rod to my bike and get to the lake to fish for about a half hour or so before needing to be back to check in to not get into trouble. Never got caught and caught lots of small bass/panfish.

Every so often the family would go out to one of the family or friend beach cabins on south sound. Sea run cutthroat were the target and very few would get caught, but there were a few. I vividly remember one day fishing under the treasure island bridge from a paddle boat on a hot, sunny day at low tide. I dropped down a small clam neck and split shot about 10 feet below the surface and watched it float about in the clear water while being surrounded by perch when a giant fish bolted out of nowhere and inhaled the bait as I was watching it. I set the hook and it came right out of the fish’s mouth. That is really when the addiction started. To this day, I still have no idea what it was but I imagine it most likely being a big cuttie or resident coho.

A couple years later (I was maybe 11-12) I was casting small spoons off the beach at dusk when I got an arm wrenching tug by a rather large fish. It fought hard and gave up quite the fight on the ultra light with 6lb test. I landed it, it was a 23 inch cutthroat. My uncle lost the picture but confirms the size.
 

JamesRPL+

Active Member
Middle teens,middle 60's. Damn.I used to hitch hike 90 to the denny creek turn off than hike the Lake Anett trail , camp in an old army blanket with a 6" black iron pan , couple boiled spuds and some bacon. Trout were better tasting , water was safe to drink and damn cold. Anything you threw the trout would fight over. Oh yeah, ritz crackers that usually turned to crumbs.
 

SilverFly

Active Member
Giant 6" cutts right behind the barn. Which, amazingly, is still there 50 years later. Fully expected to find a Walmart when I google mapped it. Also remember catching golden shiners, sculpins (naturally) and being freaked out by nests full of brook lampreys. My parents would be in jail these days for letting a 7yo kid run loose fishing a wooded creek alone, but I'm still here and wouldn't trade those memories for anything. Still remember my 1st "big fish" when I snuck across the road and caught a 14" cutt in a shaded pool that likely hadn't been fished in decades.

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Chic Worthing

Active Member
I grew up in a number of places and in two continents. Fishing started in Minnesota and Wisconsin. Had to travel but parents would let us camp out in out of the way places. Then it was Montana, "the World with dew still on it" (River Runs Through it). Fished The Thompson River just outside of Thompson Falls and met Joe Brooks who was already my fishing idol. Prospect Creek was just on the other side of the Clarks Fork river. Hard to throw a stick and not hit great trout waters. Then a 4 year hiatus in Australia, with no fishing and a lot of surfing. Then back to college in Bozeman Montana, the epicenter of some of the best trout water that a 20 year old could find. Then out of college with a small family to raise and I end up in Wenatchee with rivers that are a bit lacking but I can't complain. Now I have a one year old grandson that needs to fish with his grandpa and my job is to collect gear for him and make sure it works well . I am still not grown up, still learning more things about fishing and fish.
 
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Shad

Active Member
Nice thread, Rob. Talk about sweet memories....

I grew up in trout fishing paradise (Western Colorado). Sadly, I didn't get into fly fishing until a couple years before we moved to Texas...

We had a small creek that was a tributary to the Roaring Fork at the bottom of the hills we lived in outside Glenwood Springs. It was about a mile and a half from the house, and it made many a lonely, boring day go by quickly. Lots of trout, mostly under 12". Suckers for worms and salmon eggs. Wish I'd had more time to fish around there with a bug rod....
 
Dad was a fly fisherman. My 5th through part of the 9th, I lived in the Hungry Horse/Martin City, MT. along US Hwy 2. Fished the Middle Fork of the Flathead nearly every day during seasons as I lived about a block and a half from the river. Mainly flies, aquired intially from a local hardware store, and the real treat was a fly shop stop along the highway nearing Kalispell. The old boy who owned the shop was full of advise.
 

Tracker

Active Member
Tule forks, Cali, Sierra Neveda. Mostly around Coffee camp and Wishon when I was but a sprout. Many fond memories.
 

wetswinger

Active Member
Stinking Springs of the Strawberry R. Utah before they buried it behind the damn. Dad got us stuck regularly on that shitty dirt road trying to get a sedan down there. Upper Price R. ( fish creek) off Wasatch Plateau. High Uinta Mtns. lakes, bring the bug dope !!
 

Riogrande King

Active Member
Arvada, Colorado was where I grew up. My grandfather was born in Pine and took me up to the North Fork of the South Platte to catch my first trout. He took the tip off his old three-piece cane rod and had me lob cast and drift worms upstream with just enough lead to keep ticking the bottom. Not unlike upstream nymphing except you wouldn't strike until the fish gave a solid yank.
Last year I serendipitously discovered that a guy who I'd met on the Missouri and travelled in a group with to Belize grew up just 5-blocks away and had also fished little Ralston Creek in Arvada. Small world for sure.
 

Steve Slater

Active Member
There used to be a little vacation cabin resort on Heritage Lake in the Pend Oreille region of NE Washington. The log cabins had been built by the couple that owned the place. There was a little store where we could buy Bit-O-Honey candies and little spoons for trolling (only the silver, fish-shaped spoons with an orange painted "head" worked). Every cabin came with a row boat. There was a swimming beach and on the opposite side of the lake was a collapsed settler's cabin that sometimes contained a bear (we found out the scary way one day). There was also a gas station with those "visible" gas pumps having a glass tank at the top. I remember my dad filling up the rambler station wagon with leaded gas. My dad would row us around the lake and we'd catch pretty rainbow trout. I'm afraid to go back there. I've hear that the lake was ruined by introduced bass. But I'll always remember what it was in the '60s.
 

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