Have you heard the old adage that you can never go home again? I really think that it means that you can go home but it will never be the same. Things change and pages get turned to new chapters in life and what remains the same are those precious memories from a time and place far from today.

One such place for me is the stomping grounds from my youth called the Spillway. That’s a spot where the river dumped into a backwater stretch called Pickerel Slough. It was just over a mile from home as the crow flies but it might as well have been 100 miles away because it was so isolated and full of intrigue. All I had to do to get there was “borrow” my dad’s boat and a new adventure was born.

Like most spots on the Mississippi River, the catch was across the board in terms of species caught. Walleyes, smallmouth bass, largemouth bass, pike, and bluegills could be had depending on the time of year and the choice of lures. One more thing about the Spillway: on any warm day you would encounter water snakes, and lots of them. Thankfully my love for fishing has always been stronger than my paranoia of snakes, but not by much.

I couldn’t even guesstimate how many trips were made to the Spillway in my youth. The hours spent there were always fun and fish filled. I do remember that some days were better than others, but I never remember getting skunked while fishing in that special place. What I can’t remember is the last time I fished there. 

Recently when my old friend Dully said, “let’s go fishing,” the Spillway popped into my head and the idea grew into a plan. Just like the days of my youth, I headed there with night crawlers, split shots, and bobbers. That’s as old school as it gets.

When I tied off the boat and walked to one of my favorite fishing spots from so long ago, I was amazed how it looked exactly the same. Stepping on that hallowed spot was like stepping back in time. It was a welcome feeling.

Dully and I bobbered up and loaded our hooks with a small piece of night crawler. Our nostalgic fishing trip was officially underway and it only took a couple of minutes before the red and white bobbers plunged below the surface of the water and the bluegill game was on. For the next couple of hours, we alternated catching fish and telling stories. We carried on like we were 12 years old again. The fishing action wasn’t spectacular, but it was enough to keep us both interested and enough to help us tolerate the snakes. 

Our outing ended when the bottom of the Coleman cooler was carpeted with a nice mess of slab bluegills. By all accounts, it was a great time. Fishing the Spillway after so many years had passed was a trip down memory lane and the stroll was a reminder that I grew up in a terrific time and place.     

Didn’t get enough Dave this week? Visit “Outdoor Trails and Tales with Dave Beck” on Facebook or at  ottwithdavebeck on Instagram for photos and video of Dave’s adventures. You can share your own photos and video with him there as well, or by emailing him at dave@piercecountyjournal.news Also, check out OTT content on Instagram @thepiercecountyjournal