Opening day of trout season — May 6, 1972, Gratiot, Wisconsin
My cousin Dan was not only the oldest of us boys, he was by far the strongest — stronger than any two of us. That strength played itself out in our early teens for good and bad — and on opening day of trout season, May 6, 1972, it was particularly bad for the fish.
His family lived on the edge of Gratiot, Wisconsin, along the bedrock ridge high above the neighboring farms. When we visited them, we spent most of the time outdoors. Seven young boys were six too many to keep inside.
A Stocked Stream and a Pile of Suckers
Saturday morning we gathered our tackle, trucked through the woods, down the ridge, across County Road 78, and into the empty cornfield where Trout Brook emptied into Wolf Creek. We knew the DNR had recently stocked the stream, and we were looking forward to each catching our limit.
The bane of trout streams was the suckers. For every trout you could get to strike, you’d hook or snag two or three suckers. It was illegal to throw them back, so we simply tossed them up over the bank and into the field.
Being the oldest, and a fine fisherman to boot, Dan expected to outdo us all. Unfortunately, while the rest of us each pulled in multiple keepers, Dan was coming up dry. And Dan did not handle dry well.
Beating the Suckers into Fertilizer
His frustration boiled over. He abandoned the creek and disappeared into the trees, returning with a thick oak branch from a nearby deadfall. I can still picture him wailing away at the pile of suckers flopping in the morning sun, beating them into fertilizer.
Dan is still a far better fisherman than I am, but not that day. In fact, my younger brother took home the prize with a 16-inch brown. (We did share our catch with Dan at dinner.)
This story went out to my Trail Notes readers first. Every couple of weeks I send one more from the trail, the page, and the porch — and they get it long before it ever lands here. Join the list →
