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raptorfan

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It is always interesting to find out how people come to love certain hobbies, objects or what not. I thought it would be nice to hear others stories, and thought I would share my own in the process.

 

I grew up in a single parent family, just my mother and I. She was rather unestablished in her adult life when she had me, so we spent our first 4 years of my life living at my grandparents house. My grandfather was an avid outdoorsman, loved hunting and fishing. Every weekend he would be out at some special fishing hole, and alot of weeknights as well. They lived in Falkland, Ontario which is just a stones throw from the Grand River, Nith River, Hornors Creek, Whitemans Creek, and lots of other waterways. My grandfather was also an honorary lifetime member, and executive at the Brant Rod and Gun Club, as well as a long serving member of the OAHA.

 

He tried to pass his love for fishing on to me very early in life, and it worked. We would go down to a small pond across the road to get minnows, then hit some spot. My first major memory though came on one of our very frequent summer camping trips. We would usually go north for a few weeks in the summer, but this one week really sticks in my head. I was about 4 years old (1982), and we went north to his favorite campground, Restoule Provincial Park. The whole family went for this particular trip, which was the norm, and my grandpa brought his boat up as well.

 

I had never been allowed to go out on the boat when we were camping, until this particular trip. I guess my constant bugging finally got to him. So he took myself and my two cousins out for a morning on Lake Restoule. In the couple hours we were out, we must have landed 60 sunfish and rock bass, it was absolutely amazing. We have pictures kicking around somewhere of that day, and my smile was past ear to ear.

 

Then, on our way back, he took us to a river that starts out of Restoule. There was this gorgeous waterfall that seemed to be 100 feet high to me then (although now I know it wasn't). We casted our worms and bobbers in for about an hour, then I hooked into my first ever pickerel. It was only about 11", but the excitement of catching a "real fish" was enough to hook me for life.

 

After this trip, my grandpa took me fishing with him every weekend, and north every summer. I will never forget this. We had many great outings, and he shared many of his secret holes with me which unfortunately now are either dried up or don't hold much for fish due to overfishing.

 

When I was a pre teen, my grandfather was diagnosed with altzheimers and we were not able to go fishing much anymore. At this time though, my mother and I had relocated to Waterford, Ontario so I had some fantastic fishing right on my doorstep. Sadly though, I didn't get to share many of these fantastic fishing times with him, although he was in my thoughts every time I was out on the water. He deteriorated pretty fast in the end, and finally succomed to 9 strokes in 7 days on August 15, 1995.

 

In recollection, this was about the time I stopped fishing. At the time, I attributed it to getting older, girls, partying, and college. Thinking of it now though, older and wiser I guess, I think part of me died when my grandfather passed. The past few years have brought a flood of memories back for me of these days. I am married now, have 2 kids of my own, and many members of my married family have a passion for the outdoors as well. We go north every summer near timmins for pike and pickerel. I went for the first time about 6 years ago, and the bug has slowly come back every year since.

 

Early this spring, I realised how important those times with my grandpa were on the water, and I started to look at my own children. My boy doesn't show much interest at all in fishing, but he does come north with us guys most summers just to be in the boat, and my little girl always wants to do whatever daddy is doing. She has come out with me many times on the Grand or in waterford this summer, and although the results haven't been fantastic she is always very loose lipped the whole way home, and cannot wait to go again. Hopefully in 26 years, when she hits 30, she will remember these times as fondly as I do.

 

So, anyone else got their start to share?

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thats a good story... :clapping: and a good topic...now i just need the energy to smash out a story...( but not right now cuz im actually finding it hard to read let alone write)

 

Short comedy story:

 

I was born with a rod in my hand .... :whistling: but it only ever caught me crabs.. :jerry:

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My father Tinbanger, and my Grandfather. The first time i remember fishing was on collins creek in glenburine, small town just outside of kingston where my grandparents lived. i can remember exactly how many pumpkin seed i caught lol 23, probably caught on worms... but i do remember out fishing both my Dad and Grandpa :P... thats how it all started haha... i guess this is where i write "Thanks Dad" :P lol

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Born into it in our family. Fishing is a way of life, not just recreation. Apparently I've caught fish since I was 2. Did the same with my kids. The son won one of the big prizes at the St kitts Catfish Derby at 3.

Spending a good chunk of my childhood in the "Skokers" had its benefits. First thing in the morning checking the trot line for a pike, then check the bait traps. Bobber fish til breakfast was ready. When we moved to Toronto (YECHHHHH!), skipped a lot of school on Fridays to head up to the uncle's for another weekend on 6 Mile. Gram and Aunt Lily were as proficient as the men with a rod and reel, as is my Mother, and now, my daughter.

As Finns we feast on fish, hence the need to be fishing all the time. Fried, baked, stuffed, pickled. Pike was mainly for "fish head soup". Only my Gram and aunt would clean the fish. Apparently us men wasted too much flesh. :P Had a clothes line strung up where we hung gar skulls to dry over the summer months.

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Dad, like 4 or 5 years old, 3 brothers and me, think he wanted us to catch our own darn food so he would have more money to go fishing? LOL Been at it until illness put the brakes on, and don`t care to eat fish.

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Great topic, Raptorfan :) I remember my first fish, maybe age 4? 5? OFf the dock at my Dad's parent's place on Lake Muskoka. I remember the loud click of the massive brown Zebco spinning reel....I remember my dad saying "reel reel reel reel!" And out came a sunfish, and everyone made a big deal of it. Soon I was (reluctantly) lipping my first rock bass....but the trips to that cottage ended, as Papa died, and Nana had to sell the cottage. Nobody in the family was able to keep it, so, we spent the next few years roaming the provincial parks in rv's and pop up trailers. It wasn't until we got a cottage on 3 mile lake (the one near Utterson) that I clearly remember the fishing bug becoming permanent. As soon as someone said "hey, you don't have to sit around here...you can go down to the lake and fish"...that was it. I never understood why my older siblings would complain that there was nothing to do up there....we had a lake!! We could fish!!! Every Friday night, we'd stop at Ellwood Epps...grab some worms....and all weekend, I would work my shoreline spots for countless panfish. Then we got the little tinner...and I could work more shoreline! And troll!!! Still remember sitting in a car-repair shop in Huntsville for the afternoon, and my Dad and I walked next door to a convenience store to kill time...he bought me a copy of Field and Stream. I read the thing repeatedly...being about 9 or 10 by now....and dove headlong into a host of new techniques...which had me saving money to buy lures...which I still do now :lol:

Ahhh....good, good memories :D

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Short comedy story:

 

I was born with a rod in my hand .... :whistling: but it only ever caught me crabs.. :jerry:

 

Now that is some funny stuff!!!!!!

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My old man did, inadvertently I would say. I was about eight years old and we had a huge snow fall and I was bugging him about buying me a snow shovel. I guess I pestered enough that he told me to look at the fishing stuff in the catalogue. Anyways he inherited an old trailer on Lake Champlain VT where I would live for eight summers. That Spring he gave me a stick, hook, nut and a leaf for bait. So I went to Peanuts dock ( Our American neighbor) and dangled that thing in front of a couple of rock bass for two days. I guess Peanuts felt sorry for me and gave me a worm for bait which in no time, I caught my first two fish. Yup, put them in a pail and waited for Dad to come back from work a few days later to show him. Yupper, WHAT A SMELL. Peanuts, who was probably in his late 60s would be a person that I would always remember and be grateful to this day. A Prince of a Man.

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Unlike most of you i wasnt born into fishing. My buddy nate was like you guys born into fishing and always went with his father and grandfather. One friday night my buddy nate calls me and asks me if i want to go ice fishing. hes like we'll go out by searchmont and we'll go across a couple lakes and through the bush and i was jacked to go cause i just bought my first snowmobile and thats all i was thinking about, riding untouched powder and flying across a lake. Well i did exactly that and we stopped, set up lines and we hung out and we caught alot of fish. we caught probably 20lakers. he gave me my 2 holes and he had his. it was such a thrill running and pulling up fish. it turned into a competition and we had a blast!

That summer Nate called me about fishing again saying that his dad and him had plan a fishing trip but his dad got called into work and wasnt gonna be able to go. Seeing is how we had such a great time ice fishing i really wanted to go out summer fishing. That evening we ran over to crappy tire, i bought a $30 rod/reel a couple lures and we were set. We camped out for 2 days at a lake had lots of beers and laughs and he showed me the ropes and we caught a pile of walleye and bass. After that trip i was offically hooked to fishing. After that just about every weekend my buddy nate and i went out. I started researching different techniques, lures, places, etc. and i was into fishing more then my buddy nate. but my buddy always had an open mind and full of adventure. We tried sooo many new lakes, tried every lure in the book and we were really honing in our skills. I have slowly become nates guide haha!! i truely thank him for showing me the first few set of ropes!

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I would like to say I caught the fishing bug from my dad - i can remember catching fish for dinner whiting (Salt water fish white fillet) - i remember shoving the bait in some fish mouth he caught on the bank - not sure the minnows (mullet) liked it or he did either.

 

i spend days now trying to make my son interested but fishing in canada is too easy - he sits on the dock and catches fish after fish. maybe he has the expertise.

 

This year he caught his first musky trolling for walleye wasnt big but all by himself age 7.

 

If anyone is really interested I spent my summers in a place called south west rocks NSW Australia - romantic name awesome fishing - i caught mullet (Bait) for people who paid me in the summer (They tried to catch a mulloway) - i will never forget the loaves of bread i bought - i used inside as bait and ate the rest.

 

thankyou for this topic i live in canada now miss my family in australia especially my dad who made me who i am

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I wasn't born into it either. Dad wasn't a fishermen. His first, or second love, depending on who you ask was motorcycles and cars. My uncle, Mom's youngest brother was a fisherman and belonged to a few fishing clubs in the North of England where I grew up. He took me fishing in the rivers and streams regularly. Mostly float fishing (and you steelheaders think you invented it), and the odd fly fishing trip. We moved to a house near a pretty good 2 mile stretch of river when I was 11 and I spent almost every free moment there until girls were discovered and that spoiled everything. Another uncle, (Dad's brother), got me into sea fishing. He owned a 38' ex lifeboat that we took out to the wrecks in the North Sea in the Summer and fished off the beaches and rocks in the winter.

Came to Canada when I was 21 got married, kids came soon after and didn't fish much for the first few years. Once I discovered the amazing resources that this wonderful country has, I was "hooked" once again and have been ever since. I guess I didn't get my kids into it early enough as they don't have a lot of interest, however my 9 year old grandson seem to have it in his blood.

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Guest gbfisher

someone told me at an early age that even a bad day of fishing beats a great day at work.... :Gonefishing:

Then theres Mariko... :D fishing who?

Edited by gbfisher

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It was a family thing for me. Shooting, hunting and fishing were my dad's favourite pastimes. I can remember practicing my fly fishing cast in the front yard when I was about 10. My brother started tying his own flies when he was about 12, and does a lot of fly fishing for pike these days.

For years I would fish once or twice a year, but got back into it with a vengeance about 5 years ago, thank goodness.

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My Dad was never a fisherman, but had a passion for camping, cottaging and canoeing. We spent many summers camping around Ontario, rented a cottage on the Bonnechere for several years, and weeks at a time at my uncle's cottage on Pigeon.

 

The fishing just came naturally. My friends and I spent a lot of time down at the Credit river as well, (this was before Erindale park was really developed) catching chub, small bass and the odd trout.

 

Everywhere we went I just always wanted a fishing rod in my hand.

 

In my mid-twenties, I had the opportunity to move to the Peterborough area, bought my modest house on the lake when they were still affordable and hope to be here til the day I die.

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What got me into fishing, well my earliest memory was probably when i was 3 or 4 at 4am having my dad wake me abruptly from my sleep yelling c'mon were going to the perch derby or something like that...lol Thanks dad :) Runs in the blood for me i think though, my Opa and Grandfather were both into fishing.

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:) You're most welcome, by the way, 300 sheets of plywood, 400 2x2's and I think I've got the ice hut figgered out... :lol:

 

 

You buy the tank yet that you're going to need to haul that sucker out? lol

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skipped a lot of school on Fridays to head up to the uncle's for another weekend on 6 Mile.
Does your uncle still have the cottage up there?? Is your uncles name Harry?? (long shot)

 

I spent the first 4 years of my life living in Pickle Lake (Northern Ontario) Fishing was necesary there. So I guess that's when I started fishing.

 

Once we move south, I began spending a few weeks of every summer at 6 Mile at my grandpas cottage. I also fished the Maitland River a few times a week growing up in Wingham.

 

Some great memories..

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You buy the tank yet that you're going to need to haul that sucker out? lol

:lol: Hell, no, Sikorsky chopper, and about 3 feet of ice..

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nice topic! i got started when i was young my dad would take the family out evry summer a couple times renting a boat and staying in a cottage for a week. some really fun times. later family got rough. parents split up and fishing stopped for years. i picked it up on my own about 3 years ago. never dropped it since. let the good times roll! I'm 23 and later in life i will share fishing with my own family and my children if i ever have any.... im looking to buy an ice fishing rod and as soon as my future child to be turns 2 i'm buying him/her an ice fishing rod lol it would like a perfectly proportionate fishing for the child!

 

thanks for asking!

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i got into fishing through my father bigugli i remember back when i was 2 or three and fishing at the family cottage up at dena lake with my father in the 12 foot springbok boat and my father always rowed the boat then later or i remember wining the catfish derby and i just kept getting more and more interested in fishing and now thats pretty much all i like to do

 

thanks Dad

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I owe it all to my Dad........... rather old when he had me ...he was 73 at the time... back then we owned a cottage on lake Tomiko ... that's where i spent my summers....

I really can't remember when I didn't fish.

 

I got to spend 13 years with him ...Thanks Dad I owe it all to you.

 

DadMe.jpg

 

An early picture of me fishing at camp.

 

fishnakid3.jpg

 

Another of me fishing on the Sturgeon River.

 

fishnaskid1.jpg

 

 

 

RFS

:canadian:

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