The summer came and I bought a fishing rod, a Mitchell reel, lead sinkers, forty-pound nylon line, and a few shiny metal lures. I was ready, but my two sons were more ready than I. They used a hobby horse stick and practiced fishing in the small living room of our apartment. They jumped up and down and told us, “We’ll catch big fish.” I loved watching their excited, happy faces. “This is what Idaho is all about,” I thought. They would grow up loving what nature offered here.
I bought a detailed map of the area and looked for streams and lakes where we could go for fishing, but everything was far away—one would have to drive miles to go there. I consulted my colleagues at the office. They all poured over the maps, traded fish stories, but no one told me where to go.
When I asked directly, “Well, suggest to me a place I can try out this weekend,” they talked among themselves. “Hmm, he can try the Buffalo River, that’s good.” Someone said, “Perhaps Silver Creek. What do you think?” Another said, “That’s good but the current is fast now, try out Indian Creek.” And they all dispersed.
I looked at the map. The Buffalo River was fifty miles away. “Do I have to drive that far to go fishing?” Silver Creek was nearby, but I found the name in several areas. Was it a common name for several streams? How do I get to Silver Creek for fishing? Was there a public place where people go for fishing? I bought a fishing license, but did I need permission from the landowner to fish from his property?
Willis, my coworker, told me “Go to Birch Creek or the Camas Creek in the Mud Lake area. It is very easy. Drive north, and when you see a stream, park the car and fish.”
So, the next Saturday, I took my family out for fishing and drove north along Route 15. “We’ll have fish curry for dinner tonight.” Continue reading →