There was a time in my youth that I liked going fishing.
It occurred mostly at Lake Carlyle, Saskatchewan, Canada, about 100 miles north of where I lived in North Dakota.
I hated trolling from a slow-moving boat because it seemed nothing ever happened.
But I remember once when Dad and I and some others had been out much of a day fishing that way and catching nothing.
When we returned to shore at dusk, my dad went up the hill to the cabin we were staying at to fix us some kind of supper.
I stayed at the dock practicing my casting.
That is to say swinging the fishing rod and throwing the lure as far out into the lake as I could.
And what happened?
I caught a fish!
I hurried up the hill to show Dad and then went back to the dock to try again.
Before long I had caught three nice fish.
They were called Pickerel or Northern Pike but for some reason we usually called them "Jacks", short for Jackfish.
Good eating.
After I brought the third fish up to dad to clean and fry in a pan with some butter for our dinner he said "Stop! We have enough!"
I don't have a photo of that evening but this is one of me and my partner-in-crime, Jim, with a "mess of perch" we had caught, perhaps from that same dock.
Some times you would think you could practically reach down into the water and scoop them up.
Kind of like these . . the wily trout.
They're in a so-called "Show Pond" at the Page Springs Fish Hatchery.
The smaller fish are kept in tanks under canopies.
Ducks can always seem to find water and a few were in evidence at the show pond on the day we visited.
I've never fly-fished but I suspect the trout would be too cautious for my impatient younger self.
Maybe it's just as well that I can find pleasure with simply gazing at them.
The hatchery is ideally located just across the road from a winery and within walking distance of two more!
If you are so inclined, you may read more about the hatchery here.
