Yesterday, when I awoke, I decided that Little Kahuna and I would take the day for ourselves and go on a nostalgic fishing trip. We then packed up our gear and headed to a place that means a lot to me, Wood Ranch Recreational Area, also known as Kid’s Pond. My grandmother used to take us fishing there when I was just a wee pup, and I wanted to relive the experience.

Sheep at the SUU Mountain Center

On the way to the recreational area, we were waylaid by a herd of sheep crossing the road. As I careened down the road, I saw a woman in the road frantically waving an orange flag to stop traffic. As I slowed my approach, I wondered, “what must this all be?”

All I could do was puzzle the question, “What is the woman with the flag stopping traffic for?” As my wonder over this situation peaked, I saw one, two, then a stream of four legged creatures crossing the road. Because of their color, and my distance, I was first inclined to think that they were elk, but I soon decided they were sheep. I had seen elk farms on my visit to New Zealand, but I doubt that the elk could be herded with the ease that these sheep were corralled by 3 riders on horseback.

Two riders positioned on the road, boxed the sheep in as they crossed the road toward the gate they were to enter. A third rider expertly guided their horse, back and fourth, pressing the herd toward the gate while also quickly encouraging individuals splitting from the flock to rejoin the murmuration of their fellows in the larger group.

It was a fascinating 5 minute experience.

Fishing at Wood Ranch Recreational Area

Just a little further up the road from the SUU Mountain Center is Wood Ranch Recreational Area. Wood Ranch is where a local fishing pond called “Kid’s Pond” is located. It is where my grandmother took my brother and I when we asked her to take us fishing.

School Bus Driver Training

On arrival at Wood Ranch, I noticed that there were a number of Iron County School buses positioned around the parking lot. There were also cones and poles positioned in the parking lot, in a fashion that reminded me of parallel parking training during my driver’s education classes.

No Phishing for Phillip

I grabbed my rod and tackle, and hiked up the small trail to the pond. At the top of the hill, I was greeted by a sign which dismayed me.

Iron county sign at kids pond — “Kids Pond: Traditionally for kids under 12. Please respect this tradition. Thank you. Iron County UT.

If the sign had said it was the law, I would have fished all day long. However, since I am a chaotic good gremlin, and I have the highest respect for tradition, I picked up my rod and tackle to march back down the hill. Tradition is so important to me. It is as important as nostalgia for me.

Take your children under twelve up to this pond. It is a nice quiet pond, with plenty of shady spots to relax in during the day. It is free to fish here, as long as you are under twelve.Children under twelve will need an adult with a fishing license to accompany them, and the limit at the pond is two fish per fisher, which is lower than the limit on other bodies of water in Utah.

Fishing at Navajo Lake

Since Little Kahuna and I could not fish at Kid’s pond, we went a little further up UT-14 to Navajo Lake.

When we arrived at the lake, I parked Little Kahuna and paid for her parking spot. After chatting with the camp attendant about Little Kahuna, I grabbed my rod and tackle, then proceeded to hike about a mile down the shoreline to my spot for the rest of the day.

Hiking to the “Spot”

As I hiked, the beauty of nature opened itself to me. Just to the left of the path, I saw a Uinta ground squirrel poke its head out of a burrow in the ground. Then I saw hundreds of holes and wondered if they all belonged to this one ground squirrel, or a colony of them.

Damsel flies, in the same hue as Little Kahuna, flew about hunting and courting. Their tiny thin bodies glinted turquoise as the sunlight reflected off their bodies. As I reached the deeper water recommended by the camp attendant, I noticed that the surface of the water was swarming with hunting damsel flies.

As I looked in awe at the chorus of nature that danced above the surface of the water, a fish jumped, snatching a damsel fly from her flight, and plunged back into the lake. Then it happened again. Then a third time. It was a miraculous event, and so I took that as a sign that I should take up residence at that location for the purposes of casting my line in the water.

Catching Seaweed

I took my Shakespeare Pitchin Rod and tied one of my Bad River Tackle Company Lures to the line. Turning on my music, I settled into a rhythm of casting the line into the water, and reeling it in.

Almost immediately I had great success with catching a large amount of seaweed. I would cast out my line, reel in the catch and land a handful of seaweed. The zen of the motion of casting, the beautiful day, and the beats in my ears became meditative. Hours passed, but to me it could have been years or centuries.

Cast; reel; clear the hook; repeat.

Catching the Brown Trout

As time passed and my meditations continued, I turned the motion of casting the line into the water. There was a clear spot, approximately two to three feet inside where the shadow of the lake vegetation began. My game was to try and get my lure into that clear spot.

Cast; reel; clear the hook; repeat.

Over time I got better and better with my aim. I was able to get within feet of the clear spot, nearly every cast. Satisfied with my accuracy, I decided I should see how far I could cast out. Extending my arm with my rod out far behind me, I then put all my power into casting.

The lure arced above the water, far past the cleared spot in the seaweed, and dropped into the water. There was a flash of white from the belly of a fish as it grabbed my Bad River Tackle lure. It was hooked. I thought it was hooked, anyhow.

Determining that the hook was set, I reeled the fish in. I let it have line when it wanted to fight, and reeled the line in when it swam toward me. The fish was within feet of me when I reached out to grab the fishing line to land it.

With the line in my right hand, I looked down to see where the fish was in the water. All of a sudden, we were eye to eye. Fish eye to human eye. I was entranced by the gaze of the fish. It was a beautiful brown trout. The trout appeared to nod its head, and then it promptly spit my lure out and swam away.

It was too bad. The fish would have made a good meal and good photographs. It was the biggest brown trout I have ever seen. This one is still alive to go out into the wild and make more large brown trout.

Be safe; help others.