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I won't call this a classic, but it's a tale...
In August of 1985 I went to spend a month with a friend of mine in Oscoda Michigan. His name was Amos, and along with his wife, we fished all over Ohio and parts of Ontario together. Amos was a world-class outdoorsman, he loved to hunt too, every critter I could imagine was tucked away somewhere in his large house in a life-like pose as he was an amateur taxidermist as well. Amos taught me how to turkey hunt before I was old enough to go, really. He was one of the very first to actually kill a turkey in Ohio once the flock had been re-established and a modern season started. He and my dad had gone on a fly-in fishing trip somewhere in the bush of Canada in the late 60's and had been friends as long as I could remember. Amos and Leta had two daughters, but no sons, so I guess he viewed me as a good candidate to tag along on hunting and fishing exploits as I have always preferred to hunt or fish over most anything.
Amos bought a property right at the mouth of the Ausable River where it flows into Lake Huron when he retired. He would spend a great deal of his time there in the summer and fall, fishing for Lake Trout, Salmon, Brown Trout and of course smallmouth bass. He told me how great the fishing was and how much I would enjoy catching those big, fast salmon if I could find time to join him. After a couple of years, I finally made the trip with him and Leta. The environment was a lot more laid back than I'd grown accustomed to when fishing with Amos. There was no hurry to get up in the mornings to beat the sunrise, no late nights cleaning piles of fish. Really, I was somewhat disappointed at first as I liked our fishing trips to be more like work than loafing around. But Amos had bought this place, he lived here, it wasn't like he only had a week or two to make meat.
Some days we would run up the river on his bass boat and fish for smallies or pike. Some days we would go out on some of the huge boats his neighbors owned to troll for salmon and lakers in the depths of Lake Huron, and some days we didn't do a dang thing. After a week or so, I got used to the laid back atmosphere, but I just couldn't stand being so close to so much water and not fishing! I bugged Amos non-stop to run the boat here or there most every day. Finally I must have just wore the old man out so he said, "You know, there is all kinds of fish right there" as he pointed to the river flowing passed. "Take one of these rods and go catch whatever you want". One of the neighbors was a diver and told me there was a hole right in front of his house that was full of walleye and smallmouth...and channel cats! He gave me directions on where I'd have to cast to sink my offering into the right spot as he knew how the current flowed and what it would take to get it just right. I decided that evening I'd bait up and catch some channel cats. I parked my carcass in front of "Stubs" house, chucked the rig into the river and laid the 8' baitcaster equipped rod down to wait. It wasn't long before I was catching and releasing one fat channel cat after another, having a ball! A fish again picked up my offering and made a run. I set the hook and was immediately greeted with the most fierce line ripping, drag burning battle of my young life. I had no idea what the heck I had on the other end of the line, but with the charters coming back in for the evening I remember thinking I may have tangled in a prop. That thought was short-lived as I started to gain a little line back only to have the dang fish run completely across the river again. I burned my thumb on the spool trying to slow the thing down. When it decided to run, it just did. I started yelling for Stub. He came out of his place carrying a glass of whiskey and sat down beside me saying, "Hmmm.. I'd say you've got a king." Why in the heck would a king salmon eat a nightcrawler????? The battle ensued, a crowd gathered, and the fish eventually tired enough to get her to Stub's waiting net. I had fought that fish for over an hour and at last she was rolling in! As Stub netted the beast, he handed me his glass. I took a swig, thinking no one would notice as all eyes were fixed on the fish being wrestled onto Stub's lawn. The fish took a club to the head, from Stub. She calmed immediately and it was soon evident what had happened... Somehow I'd snagged this 20lb torpedo - in the tail! No wonder she had put up such a fight! Salmon are impressive when hooked fairly, hook 'em in the tail and the are amazing!
Stub really didn't pay much attention to his now empty glass as he and I traded fish for drink. However, my buddy and mentor had been watching the ordeal from the back of the crowd of spectators. As we walked over to his cleaning station with my hard-won trophy, he quietly said, "Hey, don't breathe on Leta. She may not be so understanding about a boy's need to celebrate his first King Salmon". I couldn't help but laugh, afterall, I was 13 and had just caught my first king...and I was stone drunk.
In August of 1985 I went to spend a month with a friend of mine in Oscoda Michigan. His name was Amos, and along with his wife, we fished all over Ohio and parts of Ontario together. Amos was a world-class outdoorsman, he loved to hunt too, every critter I could imagine was tucked away somewhere in his large house in a life-like pose as he was an amateur taxidermist as well. Amos taught me how to turkey hunt before I was old enough to go, really. He was one of the very first to actually kill a turkey in Ohio once the flock had been re-established and a modern season started. He and my dad had gone on a fly-in fishing trip somewhere in the bush of Canada in the late 60's and had been friends as long as I could remember. Amos and Leta had two daughters, but no sons, so I guess he viewed me as a good candidate to tag along on hunting and fishing exploits as I have always preferred to hunt or fish over most anything.
Amos bought a property right at the mouth of the Ausable River where it flows into Lake Huron when he retired. He would spend a great deal of his time there in the summer and fall, fishing for Lake Trout, Salmon, Brown Trout and of course smallmouth bass. He told me how great the fishing was and how much I would enjoy catching those big, fast salmon if I could find time to join him. After a couple of years, I finally made the trip with him and Leta. The environment was a lot more laid back than I'd grown accustomed to when fishing with Amos. There was no hurry to get up in the mornings to beat the sunrise, no late nights cleaning piles of fish. Really, I was somewhat disappointed at first as I liked our fishing trips to be more like work than loafing around. But Amos had bought this place, he lived here, it wasn't like he only had a week or two to make meat.
Some days we would run up the river on his bass boat and fish for smallies or pike. Some days we would go out on some of the huge boats his neighbors owned to troll for salmon and lakers in the depths of Lake Huron, and some days we didn't do a dang thing. After a week or so, I got used to the laid back atmosphere, but I just couldn't stand being so close to so much water and not fishing! I bugged Amos non-stop to run the boat here or there most every day. Finally I must have just wore the old man out so he said, "You know, there is all kinds of fish right there" as he pointed to the river flowing passed. "Take one of these rods and go catch whatever you want". One of the neighbors was a diver and told me there was a hole right in front of his house that was full of walleye and smallmouth...and channel cats! He gave me directions on where I'd have to cast to sink my offering into the right spot as he knew how the current flowed and what it would take to get it just right. I decided that evening I'd bait up and catch some channel cats. I parked my carcass in front of "Stubs" house, chucked the rig into the river and laid the 8' baitcaster equipped rod down to wait. It wasn't long before I was catching and releasing one fat channel cat after another, having a ball! A fish again picked up my offering and made a run. I set the hook and was immediately greeted with the most fierce line ripping, drag burning battle of my young life. I had no idea what the heck I had on the other end of the line, but with the charters coming back in for the evening I remember thinking I may have tangled in a prop. That thought was short-lived as I started to gain a little line back only to have the dang fish run completely across the river again. I burned my thumb on the spool trying to slow the thing down. When it decided to run, it just did. I started yelling for Stub. He came out of his place carrying a glass of whiskey and sat down beside me saying, "Hmmm.. I'd say you've got a king." Why in the heck would a king salmon eat a nightcrawler????? The battle ensued, a crowd gathered, and the fish eventually tired enough to get her to Stub's waiting net. I had fought that fish for over an hour and at last she was rolling in! As Stub netted the beast, he handed me his glass. I took a swig, thinking no one would notice as all eyes were fixed on the fish being wrestled onto Stub's lawn. The fish took a club to the head, from Stub. She calmed immediately and it was soon evident what had happened... Somehow I'd snagged this 20lb torpedo - in the tail! No wonder she had put up such a fight! Salmon are impressive when hooked fairly, hook 'em in the tail and the are amazing!
Stub really didn't pay much attention to his now empty glass as he and I traded fish for drink. However, my buddy and mentor had been watching the ordeal from the back of the crowd of spectators. As we walked over to his cleaning station with my hard-won trophy, he quietly said, "Hey, don't breathe on Leta. She may not be so understanding about a boy's need to celebrate his first King Salmon". I couldn't help but laugh, afterall, I was 13 and had just caught my first king...and I was stone drunk.
