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The excitement of feeling the first tug that suddenly jerks a “Huckleberry Finn” fishing pole baited with a common earthworm is thrilling when you are four, six, eight, or even older… The water was not a wild untamed river but a small friendly pond fed by a nearby fresh water source. The fish were not elusive on this particular summer morning but were quite eager and ready for a snack of fresh worms. The squeals of delight as they were pulled–not reeled–out of the cool water was an adventure for the entire family.

When I was a young girl I would go fishing with my dad and two brothers. I thoroughly loved getting up before the sun showed its head over the horizon, stepping quietly out of the house so as not to awaken my mom, as we embarked on yet another Saturday morning fishing expedition. On our way to the Clackamas River we stopped at a local restaurant and ate a hearty breakfast before heading into the mountains on a mission of discovery for the perfect location to catch trout before the sun fully came up.

As much as I enjoyed myself I keep thinking it was more fun for me than my brothers. After all, I was the little sister that required continual help getting my line untangled from rocks, trees, and the occasional hook that needed to be removed from the fish I finally caught. Then of course I needed help getting a new hook tied on, and the entire process started all over again. Maybe that’s why I remember always being by myself at the river’s edge unable to hear or call out to my family… due to the noise from the water rushing by I thought… casting my line in over and over again, hoping to finally catch something.

I loved it, my dad kindly allowed it, and my brothers endured it. I hope to have similar memories for my children and grandchildren. It began in a stocked pond, but my desire for the next step in this journey is to revisit some of my favorite fishing spots along the ice cold, clear deep emerald green Clackamas River.