By: Tom Zart

After school my friend and I would walk through town to the riverSoon to bait our trout lines with cotton cake, crawdads and liver.Sometimes we used baby bullheads, perch or great big frogsTossing out into the current next to a snag of logs.At times we would disrobe and wade out in the streamAttaching lines to anything hoping to hook our dream.One day I made some doe bait and stuffed it in my sockAttached five hooks, hundred pound line and tied it to a rock.When I bragged to my classmates they snickered and called me foolTill the next day they followed me to the river after school.I made my way to the water my path was a fallen treeSomething big was on my line it was easy for us to see.I tried to pull it in but the current was too strongThree boys ran to assist me as we began to sing a song.Going fishing instead of wishing for the granddaddy of them allIf we land this monster will give the sport shows a call.It seemed like forever before our beast was ashoreEighty-five pounds of flathead cat as big as a closet door.We shared his steaks at a fish fry, food for heart and soulTook his head and nailed it high for all to see on a pole.For a time we ceased our casting instead we chased the girlsAfter marriage with our kids we again fished the swirls.Too many of my friends have past and the years have raced byThough here I sit with rod in hand a fisherman till I die.By Tom Zart

RIVER FISHING
zart08@netzero.net