Читать книгу Father's Day Creek - Dan Rodricks - Страница 7

Foreword

The idea of Dan Rodricks’ book really hit home for me. I have fished on the fly in 22 countries, and I have fished with some famous people – Ted Williams, Tom Brokaw, Fidel Castro, Ernest Hemingway – and I enjoyed sharing my casting knowledge with many of them. But my favorite memories from fishing days come from a place close to where I grew up in Maryland. They involve my son, Larry. But they do not involve a fly rod.

Back in the 1950s, when I owned a Model A Ford and Larry was just five years old, we would drive to a place on the Potomac River known as Twin Rocks to fish with spinning rods. The spot was between Lander and Point of Rocks, on the Maryland side. My family used to have a cabin near there, and we spent a good part of each summer on the river.

A fellow named Buggs Cross, who lived there with his wife, rented boats. Few people had outboard motors in those days, so I poled one of Buggs’ boats. Larry and I found the deepest hole well upstream from where most people were willing to pole. It was called Twin Rocks because there were two boulders, identical in size, that tilted out of the water.

The pool was just above the Twins. It was about 75 yards across and 100 yards long. It could be 12 feet deep at times, and it was loaded with all kinds of fish. We anchored the boat on the pool, and Larry and I fished for catfish, using shrimp for bait, which was only 20 cents a pound back then. It was not unusual to catch 25 to 30 catfish under 15 inches.

It was a wonderful experience, and we felt like we had the place to ourselves.

Larry and I started fishing with minnows, and we would catch smallmouth bass, some as large as three to four pounds. Then we discovered carp fishing. Buggs showed me how to make carp dough with a pint of water, a tablespoon of sugar and some vanilla extract, a bag of dry flour and corn bread mix, and one packet of strawberry Jell-o. Buggs would cook that up and stir in the ingredients in a certain way so that, when it cooled and he rolled the dough balls, they would bounce. Most importantly, they would not come off the hook when we cast our lines. We caught a lot of carp that way, many between 10 and 15 pounds, but some up to 30 pounds.

I truly enjoyed fishing with Larry, but there are days when God does not like your son.

I was working for Fenwick Rod Co. at the time and had a Fenwick fly rod for bass fishing. I also had a new stainless steel thermos that I really loved. A friend of mine worked in a factory where they would dip products in thick rubber coating, and I asked him to do that to the thermos. That way, I could carry it in my aluminum canoe and it would not make noise. Plus, the stainless steel cup would not burn my lips when I went to sip my coffee. I loved that thermos. I had saved up for it.

But, as I said, there are days when God does not like your son.

We were fishing at Twin Rocks again, this time in my aluminum jon boat. Larry decided he was going to drink some coffee. When he went to open my precious thermos, it slipped out of his hands and went to the bottom of the pool. The same day, he stepped on my Fenwick rod and snapped it. And then he fell in the river, and I had to take him over to the bank and build a fire to dry off his clothes.

Well, I got through all that without killing him. We got back to the ramp and put the jon boat on the roof of my Ford. As we were driving home, Larry leaned against my shoulder. He was feeling bad so I started a little conversation with him. “Well, son,” I said, “you know, in a couple more years, you’re gonna drive this car, just like me, and you’re gonna pole the boat, just like me, and your dad is gonna sit up there and fish just like you do now.”

And he looked up at me, with those innocent eyes, and said, “Dad, does that mean I can cuss you, too?”

The years went by, and we’d go up to Twin Rocks and fish in Indian summer, those calm days in October when the trees along the Potomac were all lit up. It was a ritual for us to fish up there two or three times a year.

But then, life happens. Larry went into the Army, and he got married.

And, unfortunately, over the years, the Potomac has suffered from farming and development upstream, a lot insecticides and herbicides. Years ago, on a summer evening, millions of hatching White Miller mayflies fell to the surface where the fish gorged on them. Not anymore. We used to hear thousands of big brown toads at sunset going grah grah grah. But I haven’t heard that sound in 30 or 35 years.

Still, I continued going to Twin Rocks until I hit my 90s.

I have fished from the Amazon to Iceland, from salt flats to salmon rivers. But my favorite trip takes me to my place at Twin Rocks on an Indian summer day. I make my carp dough, my lunch and coffee – and pack some Fig Newtons for dessert – and get on the road. I get up to the pool and just sit there in the boat, and it brings back all those memories of good times with Larry.

My wife, Ev, once said to me, as I was packing my lunch: “You always go there by yourself. Why? Why not take someone with you?”

And I said, “When I’m up there by myself, I think about this place that was a secret for our son and me for so many years.” I like to go there and, even if I don’t catch fish – something that was impossible to imagine years ago – I enjoy all the memories that special place created.

It’s important that we find these special places and claim them as our own – if not in title, at least in our hearts – and that we do what we can to take care of them for the next generation.

Lefty Kreh

Cockeysville, Maryland

February 2018