Limited Edition

View from our fishing spot

Can you see all the bobbers caught in the tree limbs?

A sudden change in weekend plans left us with an opportunity to get back after the trout. We visited Ann’s parents on Saturday night, and on Sunday morning the six of us loaded up in their minivan for a pre-dawn excursion to Meramec Springs.

Ann’s parents are both experienced fisher-persons, and have fished for trout several times in clear mountain streams on camping trips to Colorado. But they had not tried trout-park fishing before, so we were excited about introducing them to it.

We got there in plenty of time to be ready to go when the opening whistle blew, signaling go for the first cast of the day. This time we let the boys in on the first cast, so all us had lines in the water, or at least were trying to, in the first few seconds of the season.

Ann’s mom gets the honors for catching a fish on her first cast. The boys had a little trouble casting, but did OK. Ann’s Dad quickly caught a fish, but as he scooped it up, his new cloth mesh net snared his treble hook, and getting it loose cost him several precious minutes.

And somewhere in the flurry of activity with Ann, the boys and I, she ended up with one trout and I had three. The boys didn’t get any, but neither did they get their lines caught in overhead limbs, so we were showing real progress.

I almost had four fish in that opening flurry, but as I was bringing in the fourth it slipped off the hook, just as Henry was getting ready to net it. He was very apologetic about not getting it netted for me, even though I don’t think I had it within four feet of the shore. He would have about had to swim for it to have netted it much sooner.

Holy Toledo! Oliver caught a trout!

Ann’s parents and the boys headed to park restaurant for breakfast, and Ann and I kept trying for a bit.  It was soon clear that the bite had slowed down, though, so we decided to get some breakfast as well. Following breakfast we headed out again, and Ann and I decided to take the boys and wander a little further downstream to find a new hole to try while Ann’s parents made some gear adjustments. When we found a likely spot Ann’s rod was ready to go, but I needed to get the other three set up again. I rigged the first one, cast it out and handed it off to Oliver, telling him where to cast. As I started rigging the second one, he promptly picked his own spot and set in casting and reeling. After a few casts, he said “I think I got one.” Everyone looked at him with skepticism, especially the guys wearing the waders and polarized glasses who had been fishing there a couple hours with one or none fish to show for it. This part of the river was full of sticks and logs, and it seemed more likely he was hung up. But Oliver knew what he had, and pretty soon he had landed his first trout, all on his own with no assistance from anyone. It was enough to inspire Henry to keep trying.

We didn’t have any more luck there, though. When it go close to lunch time, we decided to call it a day and go find Ann’s parents. They had gone back to our original spot. Right when we got there Ann’s Dad caught his second and third fish, so we decided to stay a little longer. Ann went to fishing, and I got my rod back out of the van. I cast most of the way across the river, and immediately got a strong strike. I brought him in, and had finally reached my limit of four. I was happy with one, happier with two, but once I had three I desperately wanted four. So getting this final one in the 11^th hour really gave me a mission accomplished feeling. Ann is hungry to get back at it and get her limit as well, even though we’re now pretty well stocked to take on several more Cooking Wild In Missouri recipes.