View From The Front Porch-Stan Hitchcock-October 4, 2012

The rivers and streams where I grew up in the Ozarks are a source of peace and solace to me in memory. I love to wade a good, clear and clean creek, the water running over the limestone rocks and gravel, below which is the still water where the bass lay and wait for food to wash down, hitting my soft plastic craw or worm with such gusto that your breath stops for a moment. My lifelong love of the outdoors and fishing in particular started at about 8 years old, wading the creek that runs through our old farm, However, it wasn't fishing at first, it was wading in the knee deep creek, with my dog Laddy, turning over big flat rocks that would stick up at a 45 degree angle in the current. This would cause water moccasins and cottonmouths snakes to swim out from under them, whereupon my good dog would snatch them up in his jaws shake them good and then, with a quick twist of his head, pop their spinal column and kill them. By 10 years old I was kinda getting away from the sport of rock turning, snake killin', water splashing, wet dog shaking and was looking for more suitable recreation. It was that in between period of life, between snake killin’ and before girl chasin’, and fishing was it! Shoot, it didn't take no time to dig up a coffee can full of worms out of the garden, a pretty good cane pole rigged up with line, hook, sinker and bobber and I was in business. Little catfish about a foot long populated the creek along with the occasional small mouth bass and good sized perch. At that age I didn't give a rip how big the fish were, fun was had just catching something. After all, in the snake hunting it was only the dog that got to catch anything, so fishing was a lot more fun. My dad worked constantly, so my fishing partner to learn from was my Mom. She absolutely loved to sit on the bank of a little lake not far from our farm called, “Valley Water Mill”, throwing her worm tipped hook out about 10 foot from the bank, and catch a variety of fish. So, learning to love it from fishing with Mom, I solidified my deep pursuit of the sport on into my adult life.

One of the most satisfying style of fishing, to me in this stage of life, is the return to my childhood practice of wading the creeks, in Tennessee, Kentucky, Missouri and Arkansas, with my chest high waders and either an ultra light spinning rod with 4 to 6 pound test line, or in some cases, my light weight fly rod. I fish mostly plastic craws, small plastic worms, small floating Rapalas and small jigs, searching for river small-mouth and large-mouth bass. Some of my favorite creeks and rivers are, in Tennessee, Smith Fork, Bledsoe Creek, Turnbull Creek, Yellow Creek, Little Harpeth, Deshea Creek, Caney Fork and Hurricane Mills Creek. In Kentucky, I like Trammel Creek and the South Fork of the Cumberland. In the Missouri Ozarks it would be the Little Sac River, Pomme de Terre, Bull Creek, Upper James River and sections of the White River. In Arkansas, the incredible Buffalo River can’t be beat.

Some of the smaller streams can hold really great small-mouth and large-mouth bass, and when you are wading in the water with the fish, and fighting them on their own turf, it is just a different experience than fishing large bodies of water from a boat.

It is a wonderful, healthy sport, guaranteed to lower blood pressure, tone up your leg muscles, empty your mind of stress and worry, fill your lungs with good, fresh air and give you a general feeling of well being.
I suppose, with my obvious love of the outdoors and water, that my favorite scripture would be: 23rd Psalm- The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want, He makes me to lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside the still waters, He restores my soul…..

I rest my case, ladies and gentlemen.   -Stan