As a kid we didn’t fish the river that went through town. It is a blue-ribbon trout stream, but we spent very few hours on its banks. My dad grew up about three hours south of our mountain town, in California’s Central Valley. It is a place known more for olives and almonds than for fish… that and really, really hot temps.
On trips down to see his dad we’d sometimes go to a little creek just out of his home town. The creek is called Hall Creek and it is not trout habitat. It is a place made for bluegill and the odd bass or carp.
Trips out to Hall Creek involved worms and orange soda. Orange soda, as a kid, was a magical fishing beverage. Fishing luck was tied directly to this drink.
I have really fond memories of Hall Creek. This is probably where I caught my first fish. This picture was taken from when I was about 4.
Fish.
And from about the same time.
And another.
I’m headed up this weekend to collect my girl from a week at the Grandparents’. On the way back I want to stop off and find this creek, but I’m worried it won’t be there. The winter was a poor one and there wasn’t a lot of water. The irrigation needs of the Central Valley keep sucking up water for fish and it could very well be that Hall Creek is a thing of the past. I’m not sure I want to know if it has been obliterated by progress.
We’ll see… maybe I’ll stop by.
If I do, we’ll have orange soda.
