I'll never forget my first fish.
I was 8 years old, living in the Colorado Rockies at 9,100 foot elevation. Almost twice as high as Denver.
We (brothers and I) would play in Tenmile Creek across the road from Dad's Standard gas station. We saw the fish, wanted to catch them, and came up with a plan. Damn the creek with rocks, hour later we had a damn and the pool was holding Trout. Now the problem was how to catch them, every time we got close they swam off. We didn't have poles, nor had I ever seen one before. We were trying to catch them by hand. WE tried for several days to catch them by hand. Mind you the water is winter melt off the mountains and averaged about 40 in the middle of summer. We finally decided to make a smaller damn to divide the main damn. That narrowed the holding area, but didn't stop them from swimming back up stream, so we rounded the smaller damn. Bingo, they could get in but not out. From there we learned how to catch them by hand.
Next year, we got poles for Christmas and would ride our Schwinns up the trail next to the creek and fish one of the nine beaver damns. We didn't have bait, and learned to snag em. As the fish swam over a treble hook we raised the pole and snagged into the fish. Didn't have a clue what to do with them, but we had fun.
Next time I fished was while stationed in Adak Alaska while in the Marine Corp. Some guy bet me $20 I couldn't catch a Salmon from the Creek. He lost.Once I found out the Navy cooks would cook up the fish for us I switched to fixed bayonets and speared them out of the creek. For the cooks trouble I gave him a Salmon to every one he cooked for me.


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Once I found out the Navy cooks would cook up the fish for us I switched to fixed bayonets and speared them out of the creek. For the cooks trouble I gave him a Salmon to every one he cooked for me.
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