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Billamicasr
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For those who’ve spent time in Southern Oregon, specifically Grants Pass you may have come across the old family homestead. In my youth we lived on Sleepy Hollow Road (what a great name) off of Jerome Prairie Road. As you drive up the long straight away you would have seen a huge barn with three foot tall lettering that says “Sleepy Hollow Worm Farm”. My folks raised Hybrid red wigglers, by the millions, to sell and ship to greenhouses all across America; that was in the 50’s. We also grew county fair blue ribbon winning strawberries and apples and raised rabbits and chickens.
But that’s not what I write about. My father taught me how to fly fish when I was about 8 years old that would be around 1957. The attached photo is of a couple of flies he tied that I came across this past week end while organizing and culling my tackle collection. Note how the leader is a permanent part of the fly and instead of tied to an eye of the hook is actually tied into the body of the fly.
Down river from Merlin and Just before you come to the bridge over Hell Gate Canyon on the Rogue River, if you turn off to the right you’ll find a unimproved camping site about ½ mile from the highway on the river side where we camped; it was a great spot with a clear running spring with ice cold water.
Our RV was an old 2-ton stake-bed (flatbed) farm truck. We never slept on the ground because there was always marauders be it raccoons or bears which would make a loud showing nearly every night.
Raccoons have a peculiar habit of washing their food before they eat it and my dad would occasionally provide sugar cubes for the coons as a joke. You can imagine their surprise as they washed their sugar cubes in the creek and watch them dissolve; amazingly, they aren’t as bright as one may think as they do it over and over again. Yeah I know it was cruel… funny too.
We’d start the day early to catch a few trout for the family breakfast and my Mom and my sisters would fry them until the tail became crisp and eat them with home grown eggs and fried potatoes. When that was done dad and I were off with the gold pans to see if we could supplement the days catch with some butter yellow metal; way back then gold was $32.00 an ounce and we’d collect our share to be sold as money for future camping trips. Later in the day would be another trip to the river to catch dinner; there was always an overabundance of fish.
But that’s not what I write about. My father taught me how to fly fish when I was about 8 years old that would be around 1957. The attached photo is of a couple of flies he tied that I came across this past week end while organizing and culling my tackle collection. Note how the leader is a permanent part of the fly and instead of tied to an eye of the hook is actually tied into the body of the fly.
Down river from Merlin and Just before you come to the bridge over Hell Gate Canyon on the Rogue River, if you turn off to the right you’ll find a unimproved camping site about ½ mile from the highway on the river side where we camped; it was a great spot with a clear running spring with ice cold water.
Our RV was an old 2-ton stake-bed (flatbed) farm truck. We never slept on the ground because there was always marauders be it raccoons or bears which would make a loud showing nearly every night.
Raccoons have a peculiar habit of washing their food before they eat it and my dad would occasionally provide sugar cubes for the coons as a joke. You can imagine their surprise as they washed their sugar cubes in the creek and watch them dissolve; amazingly, they aren’t as bright as one may think as they do it over and over again. Yeah I know it was cruel… funny too.
We’d start the day early to catch a few trout for the family breakfast and my Mom and my sisters would fry them until the tail became crisp and eat them with home grown eggs and fried potatoes. When that was done dad and I were off with the gold pans to see if we could supplement the days catch with some butter yellow metal; way back then gold was $32.00 an ounce and we’d collect our share to be sold as money for future camping trips. Later in the day would be another trip to the river to catch dinner; there was always an overabundance of fish.
