FISHING IS A hobby that is easy to learn and provides skills that can be used by youth of all ages.
However, fishing is about more than just catching fish.
The West End Sportsman’s Club’s 57th annual kids fishing derby in Forks was held May 2.
It was time for another group of youngsters to experience the fun of fishing and create memories that will last a lifetime.
My sister, Shelli Leons, and I grew up living and breathing fishing. Two fishing trips stand out in my memory.
The first one, the Hyas Creek Incident, happened when I was about 7 and my sister was 5.
We loved to go fishing at Hyas Creek. It was so beautiful and there were really interesting fossils to look at.
On this particular outing, we set up on the narrow rock bank, and my dad handed me my pole.
I was itching to get my line in the water.
I swung my pole around and gave it a mighty cast — and nothing. There was no splash.
Great! I was hung up in something behind me.
Was it an alder tree? Was it salal brush?
Nope, it was my sister’s face.
I turned to see my hook, line and sinker sticking out of her left cheek.
She was speechless, and I began hysterically crying.
All I could think of was our cat that had tangled with a fishhook and did not live.
I had killed my sister, I thought.
My dad removed the hook and our day was pretty much over.
I cried all the way home, even though my sister was alive, well and sitting next to me in the pickup truck.
I still feared for her life.
Once home, I vowed to never fish again.
A few hours later, when I could see she was going to make it, I took it all back.
I like to call the next incident The Calawah Deception.
It was a nice sunny day as my dad handed us our poles.
We were using Mepps spinners that day.
My dad moved up river from my sister and me. He would smile and wave at us from time to time as he fished.
We would cast and reel, cast and reel, but no bites and surprisingly no hang-ups.
Dad usually spent most of his time getting our gear loose from something we were snagged on.
Finally, it was time to go.
As I reeled in for the last time, I looked at my Mepps. Hey, wait a minute.
I called over to my sister: “Hey look at your spinner.”
As she did, it became apparent that we had fished all day with no hooks!
No wonder we had not been hung up.
We were furious with our dad.
Thinking back, it was probably the first time he had ever got to really fish when he had us along. You can bet we thoroughly checked our gear from then on.
I also have married fishing stories, but they include a lot of unnecessary yelling.
Like the time on the Hoh in December when the boat heater quit and my husband told me to row and I had never rowed before.
When the yelling started I quit rowing.
Or when his “favorite” fishing pole came apart and half of it went into the dark waters of the Dickey River.
My sister and I used to drift off to sleep with visions of the Popeil Pocket Fisherman dancing in our heads, even though Dad said it was not a real fishing pole.
We desperately wanted one.
And my sister’s face?
You can’t even see the scar.
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Christi Baron is a longtime West End resident.
She is the office and property manager for Lunsford & Associates real estate in Forks. She and her husband, Howard, live in Forks.
Phone her at 360-374-3141 or 360-374-2244 with items for this column, or e-mail her at hbaron@centurytel.net.
West End Neighbor appears on this page every other Tuesday.
