Thursday, May 29, 2014
One Man's Trash...
As kids, they were carp aficionados.
Down from their house, the slough off the Columbia was full of them. A quick detour to the slaughterhouse where they collected their bait of dried cows blood directly off the killing floor and they were ready. Armed with cane poles and baited hooks, they laid siege.
They caught carp after carp after carp in that slough.
I wish I could tell you that they were nice to those fish, but in those days they're quarry weren't well thought of. Cut the tails off and chuck them back in the water. What did they know? There were thousands of them in that smelly, gross water. They were boys being 10 year old boys. Lord know we all have some sort of story like that in our recesses of our childhood.
60 years later and here I am finding gold in another generations trash. The first time I asked my father to go carp fishing with me it caused more than just a chuckle and a raised eyebrow
His mind changed when the backing knot cleared the last guide and kept going out.