I ’ ve often wondered who stocked trout in the pond . I ’ ve often wondered if the owner of the pond knew a bunch of kids were fishing there or if we were even welcome . We were clearly trespassing on private property . To this day , I still love the sight of kids riding bikes with fishing rods across the handlebars . •
were so tired , hungry and thirsty , I drank water from the pond . The day was memorable however , because we actually caught one trout with a piece of a frozen minnow we brought for this special occasion . We still had to make our way home and only maybe fished for an hour .
I ’ ve been on many adventures that were downright grueling . Mule deer hunts on public land , a sheep hunt in the Yukon , elk hunting all over the West . No other march in my life was as bad as our trip home from the trout pond that short day in December . We decided to take a shortcut by skirting around town and walking back to North Hill by going cross-country . Instead of following streets and walking back through town , we thought we had a better plan -- a more direct route .
We started walking north of the fairgrounds across horse pastures and fields . We underestimated the terrain and the snow . We walked up and down through coulees filled with snow . We finally ended up east of the airport .
Our school backpacks felt heavier than our newspaper bags on a Sunday before Christmas . It was past dark when we finally crossed Broadway on North Hill and we were on the home stretch walking down straight streets under lights . All that misery for one 14-inch rainbow trout .
Early the next morning , we were all out on our paper routes . We ’ d often meet up in an apartment to warm up from the cold , and amazingly , we were all ecstatic about our ice fishing adventure the previous day when we met that morning . The adventure getting there and back was terrible , and nothing we ’ d sign up for anytime soon but catching fish through the ice had us all buzzing .
Our adventures got better when we acquired more gear and driver ’ s licenses . Like many kids , we all grew up and some moved away . I ended up in Devils Lake , many of my other buddies moved outside North Dakota . They all think it ’ s hilarious when they see one of my fish houses or a fishing rod bearing my name .
Today when we get together , we talk about sleeping in a car on Lake Audubon or the death march to the trout pond . There was the time when one of my friends fell through the ice and I hid the car keys so we couldn ’ t leave . The walleye bite was so good by the pump house off Highway 83 , and I just knew he ’ d want to warm up and leave . He was livid at the time , but laughs about it today .
In a way , they all had a hand in what would eventually become a career for me . My name might be on the side of a fish house , but really , there should be about 30 names on the side of that fish house .
Fortunately for me or them , they all got much better grades , took school a bit more seriously and progressed toward more traditional career fields .
Between us , we might have a collection of some of the best fishing stories -- a combination of desire , inexperience , stupidity and passion . Fishing was everything . Every dime , every spare moment was spent fishing . When we weren ’ t fishing , we talked about fishing . When we rode our bikes across town with our fishing rods across our handlebars , we looked like a motorcycle gang .
Not much has changed . Obviously , I ’ m older and have nicer equipment , but I still do some stupid things and am always looking for the next trout pond . I can still go all day without anything to eat or drink .
I can find enjoyment when many people are completely miserable . Most satisfying of all , however , I ’ m still that same kid on that bike . I still love fishing . Fascinated by fish . Intoxicated by the desire to fish . If I woke up tomorrow with nothing , I ’ d get on a bike and lay my fishing rod across the handlebars if that was all I had . I would still chop a hole in the ice with a hatchet .
I ’ ve often wondered who stocked trout in the pond . I ’ ve often wondered if the owner of the pond knew a bunch of kids were fishing there or if we were even welcome . We were clearly trespassing on private property . To this day , I still love the sight of kids riding bikes with fishing rods across the handlebars . •
Page 14 , Dakota Country , December 2023 www . dakotacountrymagazine . com