Sheri Wren Haymore

FISHIN'

First Published July, 2021 When I was a little girl, my daddy was my fishin' buddy. At that time, there were several secret farm ponds on and around the property that is now Cross Creek Country Club. Daddy would set me up in a likely spot on the bank of a pond, armed with my own rod and reel, red-striped bobber, and a can of worms. Meanwhile, Daddy would work the pond with a fly rod, casting for bass. When I’d pull in six or eight hand-sized bream, and Daddy would show me one nice bass, I thought I was a fishing star! Getting bait for my endeavor was no problem— we had a little worm farm in the backyard. When he wanted larger worms, Daddy rigged up a contraption that shocked night crawlers right out of the ground.

One pond was so secret that it was difficult to access and nearly impossible to fish from the bank, but Daddy was certain that the largest bass were surely hiding in its depths. Determined to find out, he set about to build a collapsible plywood boat—with my help, of course. The thing folded up on hinges, small enough for him to tote on a bushwhack to the pond. I followed, carrying a sheet of plastic and a bag of essential hardware. Once we arrived, the plywood was laid out onto the plastic, unfolded into a boat shape, secured with wingnuts, and the plastic was wrapped over the sides to be held in place with butterfly clips. Yes, it floated, propelled by a trolling motor which I operated while Daddy fished. At the time, I didn’t see anything unusual about this; now, however, I marvel that my mother allowed her daughter on such a death-defying adventure. A few years later, bored with ponds, Daddy set his sights on Virginia’s Claytor Lake. This time, he built a pontoon boat. It had fifty-gallon drums for pontoons, plywood deck, benches for storage and seating, conduit pipe sides, canvas top, center console. Picture my family on the lake: my fancily attired mama chilling under the canopy; Daddy steering the boat shirtless with sun-burned shoulders; my older sister, ever vigilant, hanging onto my baby sister; me and a friend or two dangling off the sides vying for who could get the wettest. I thought it was quite normal to jump into cold, deep water with no life jacket, alongside a father who built his family a boat. Fishing and boating in Surry County may look a bit different today than in the 1960s, but there are numerous opportunities to enjoy either. For a fishing experience that’s easily accessible from the bank or pier, try the Tumbling Rock Reservoir in Mt. Airy’s Westwood Park. Fishing is free, and kids fifteen and under don’t need a license. Through the NC Wildlife’s Community Fishing program, the pond is stocked with channel catfish, largemouth bass, sunfish, and bluegill. Surry County boasts abundant trout waters with Delayed Harvest and Hatchery Supported sections. There are four stocked rivers—Ararat, Fisher, Mitchell, and Yadkin Rivers, plus three smaller waterways—Big Elkin, Lovill’s, and Paul’s Creeks. A helpful pair of maps showing the trout sections and access points can be found online under the Parks and Recreation department at https://www.co.surry.nc.us/ For useful information, including license requirements, maps, stream conditions, safety tips, seasons, and more, go to https://www.ncwildlife.org/ In addition, there are several pay fishing carp ponds in our area for a fun family outing. Remember our local small businesses for your fishing gear. Robby’s Sales in Mt. Airy carries tackle; Feed Saks in Dobson features tackle and live worms; Rick’s Reloading & Tackle in Ararat is nicely stocked with rods and reels plus Zoom baits; and The Rock Bait & Tackle in Flat Rock is home for all your fishing needs, including fly rods, live minnows, and the all-important fishing advice! These days, it’s not necessary to build a boat like my daddy did; you can rent a canoe or kayak from a local outfitter. Here are a few: Yadkin River Adventures in Rockford; Rocky Forest River Run in Elkin; or in Jonesville, choose Hometown River Company or Jonesville Kayak and Tube. If you have your own small watercraft, remember to look for the river access points shown on the Surry County Parks and Recreation map mentioned above. In 2008, after my father had returned home following a long stint in a nursing home, I took a newly purchased fly rod to him. “Show me how to use this thing, Daddy,” I said. Sitting in a wheelchair on my parents’ front lawn, he demonstrated, his arm as smooth and voice as sure as ever. I never did get the hang of it, but with determination, I stood in the middle of the New River and whipped a fly around until I managed to hook a little Smallmouth, just so I could call him and report, “Daddy, I caught a fish!”