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I began fishing with my Father in the Eastern Sierras of California back in
1972, when I was 5 years old. The whole obsession started at a place called
Shepherd's Creek, back up behind Manzanar, the WWII Japanese Prison Camp, which
is South of Independence Creek on HWY 395. I was going away for a weekend...just
me and Dad ! We left La Crescenta on Friday afternoon in his new avocado green
Datsun pick-up, complete with a homemade canvas camper shell. The destination
was very familiar to my father, as my Grandfather had been taking him there
since he was a boy in the 50's.
We arrived in the late afternoon and made our little
camp under the trees at the mouth of the creek where it exits the impressive
mountain range. Soon it was dark and we were off to sleep. We awoke early the
next morning and after some eggs and Spam, I followed my Dad down the little
dirt road. Dad stopped near a bush, broke off a nice branch with bushy twigs on
the end. I asked what he was doing and he just smiled at me. We then continued
down the road a bit and heard zap zap zap zap and I saw something flying through
the air. It landed on the road and Dad quickly ran up to it and gave it a whack
with the stick. A "Grasshopper" I shouted. He then pulled out a small
piece of aluminum foil and folded the stunned critter up and stuck it in his
pocket. We nailed about six of them and headed back to the truck for our rods.
The creek was beautiful, clear and cold. Dad baited our
hooks and he began to show me the ropes of stream fishing. Great little holes
appeared around each corner and we had our limit in a couple of hours. We headed
back to the truck and enjoyed the rest of the day together. We caught a few more
the next morning and headed back home.
THAT'S HOW IT ALL BEGAN !!!
 
     
     
    
 
 
COZUMEL,
MEXICO 6/27/07 - 7/3/07
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