We started on our way during late-afternoon. I remember that when we neared our destination, we crossed a creaky, old truss bridge with wooden planks, a bit scary for a six year old. We arrived at a farm. A farmer owned the land that was the best access to the river and we had to visit him before continuing. We parked in front of his white farmhouse and dad knocked on the door, no one was home. So, dad took a few bucks out of his billfold and left it wedged in the door. I didn't know it then, but that was the custom in order to fish on this farmers land.
After unloading the fishing rig, we headed upstream. As we traveled, dad would stop and tie drops on flexible limbs that hung over the water. Drops are also called limb lines and are, nylon fishing line attached with a hook and baited. The bait of the day was chicken livers, yum...Finally we arrived at our destination, a campsite about 15 feet up a dirt bank. We set up camp just in time to start cooking over a coleman stove. What's for dinner, fried potatoes, round steak and white bread
The next morning, we were up very early and ready to check the lines that we put out before making camp the night before. As we boated downstream, we came across a huge swarm of mayflies traveling upstream. They were about three feet above the water. There were thousands of them. Luckily, when riding in the boat, we could stay below the 3 ft level. If not, it would have been like a sideways rain of mayflies, not pretty. This was so interesting for a six year old kid. To this date, I have never seen so many mayflies, what a sight to see. Did we catch fish. Yes, I think we caught a few catfish on those "drops".
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