Written by Charlie Gearheart, this page is about, in a very loose sense, Fishin'.

Story 1, March 16, 1999

When our website was being created I volunteered to write fish stories for the site. All my friends and many fans know how much I like to spend time with the fish and on the water. So for this first story I thought I may as well start at the beginning. Also, these stories may not be written in a sequence from the beginning to the present, but only as I can reflect on them. May we all learn to have respect for the fish and all living things.

Long ago and far away, deep in the Appalachian hills of southeast Kentucky, I was born and raised in a hollow called Goose Creek. I was delivered and given birth at my Grand-ma and Grand-paw's house by Mrs. Amy Bagley, the lady who became my first-grade teacher, and I think, taught everyone in this area their first year in school.

In those days, this area was very remote, with our family still living somewhat on the barter system. I remember going to town on the week-ends with my Aunts and Uncles to trade eggs, milk and etc. for sugar, flour and etc.

We had no electricity or running water or any convenience of the city. As I remember it, my relatives worked hard, went to bed early, and life was quite simple as compared with life today.

Now you may say, this doesn't sound like a story about fishing! Well it's not! It's a lifetime with the fish. My life! I have spent as much time fishing (maybe more), as I have with music.

I think the first thing in my life with the fish that I can remember, was when one of my older cousins came up the lane with some Chub Minners (Minnows), that he had caught with a hook, string, and a willow branch, down in Goose Creek. As I looked at them I was in awe. As I think back now I can remember some kind of special feeling, but no way can I explain it. Maybe more than Awe, maybe Great, Wow, Caught them! How? It was something new to me, And I was very intrigued. I was about four years old.

The next encounter that I can remember was being at the creek down behind Ray McComas's barn. I was with someone (but can't remember who), and we were either trying to catch minners with our hands, or were just watching them in the little pool in Goose Creek.

Goose Creek was very small, only about 1-2 miles long. I know we didn't get any fish that day, because the next time I went, I got "hooked."

This time we (maybe cousin Joe but I but can't remember who else) went down the road to Charlie Allen's home place. We crossed the small field to a much larger pool on Goose Creek.

I was fishing with a willow branch, a piece of string and a pin, bent in the shape of a hook and tied to the string. I was fishing with a piece of worm on my bent pin. If I can remember right, I think I missed a Chub Minner or two. Then I caught one. Don't ask me what happened after that (I was so excited) but I hope I released the fish. But doubt that I did.

After that my parents moved to Eastern (small community) down on Beaver Creek. It was a much larger creek and had real fish in it, not just minners. Our house was on the creek bank up on a hill, but close to the creek. Just below the house was a spot where a lot of local men fished, and not with willow branches either, but with long yellow cane poles.

One day my parents allowed me to go down and fish for awhile with the men. I'm sure they had agreed with my parents to keep an eye on me (I was 5 or 6 years old). I fished with the men for a little while and watched them catch a few fish. I think mostly Sundabs (Sunfish) and maybe a small catfish or two. I would look around at the men fishing and I felt special, just getting to fish with the men.

After a while they asked me to go up to my house and get them some water to drink. I took off for the house, got the water, and when I got back and gave them the water, they told me my fishing pole was jerking while I was gone. They said I should check it because there could be a fish on it. I lifted the pole and there was really and truly a real fish on my bent pin. I grabbed the fish and flew for home to show the fish to my parents.

You're right! It was years before I realized what really happened. Those men must have laughed so hard they filled their pants full of that water they drank. I want to thank those men for what they gave me, a beginning with the fish.

Well anyway...that's how I remember it beginning.

Now if I only had a cane pole, real fishing line, fish hooks, and some of that lead for sinkers. What more in life could I want.

Story 2, April 27, 1999

Forty years later. Mid 1980's. The Stillaguamish River in Northwest Washington State.

Not a cane pole, but a 4 oz. 10 ft. fly rod that cost $400- to $500-, fly reel at $200-, fly line at $60-, wading shoes $90- and waders $180- and etc. Enough flies, that if I dropped them all in the River, it would make the River rise six inches.

As I walk from one Run to another, I reflect back and get a flash of Goose Creek. What am I doing? Wow! The adult thing with expensive toys. Chasing bigger Minners (minnows).

The Minners that I am chasing are the kind that can give you a heart attack on a fly rod, and are far from being Minners. These fish are known as Steelhead.

For those of you who are not familiar with these fish, they are, (we think), Rainbow Trout that are of a special breed. Born or hatched in the Rivers of the West and Northwest Coast from California to Alaska, and also the eastern coast of Russia, Steelhead are now being introduced to a few more places on this Earth.

These Steelhead, once hatched (usually in late Winter and Spring), live in the stream for one to three years. They live and basically have the same habits as Trout while still in the River. Until one day, (ususally in Spring) the Mama (Earth) signals them to start their Migration downstream and head for the ocean. There they live for one to three years and travel ocean waters as far away as the Aleutians in Alaska in search of food.

Here they grow rapidly, and when the Mama tells them it's time, they return to their native stream to spawn and start the cycle all over again.

Biologists and Scientists have studied the Steelhead for years and have many theories. Could it be possible that that all Rainbow Trout are Steelhead that became land-locked through natural disasters and cataclysms. Like religion, we could go on forever with our theories. But since we believe today that all life started in the ocean, it's like the chicken, which came first?

The Steelhead or the Trout. If any of you Professionals wish to argue with me about this, please don't waste your time. I'm too busy fishing to argue about theories.

When these Steelhead return from the ocean, they are Beautiful, Powerful, chrome-bright on their sides, white on the belly, and steel or gun-metal gray on the top of their heads and back. Hence, Steelhead. They can weigh anywhere from one to thirty-some pounds, depending on how many years they lived in the stream and ocean. Generally they weigh from six to sixteen pounds, What a Minner!

I have spent a lifetime fishing for Minnows, Bass, Sunfish, Catfish, and pretty much all fresh-water fish, except Pike and Muskie. I love and have a respect for all fish. But when you have been bitten by the Steelhead bug, believe me, you become an addict. The mystique and beauty of these fish have caused most of us fishers to become labeled as "Steelhead Bums."

Unlike most of us humans who have become so scattered and lost and can never seem to find our way home, the Steelhead have never lost that instinct. Although they travel all those thousands of miles in the ocean, when it is time they return to their native stream and to usually the same spot in the River where they were born.

How Wonderful, How Amazing, How spiritual. To be "Go'in Home".

I hope I have given you some insight about Steelhead, because as my stories progress you won't be in the dark about these fish and the "Bums".

Story 3, March 12th, 2006

WHEN THE FISH ARE ALL GONE AND THE WATER IS ALL POISONED,
CAN WE EAT THE MONEY ?????

THE TRIP

part 1

Middle of July 2005. Arizona. Hotter than Hell. Just got home from the road.
We only toured for June and half of July. While on tour the word was out
that this was the farewell tour for the Goose. That's possible, but I can't
say for sure. All I know (I don't know) and I mean all I know for sure is, I
must go stand in the River. That other World. When the River calls, you
better go....

I take a few fishin' trips every year. Usually two days, or if I'm lucky
and have some time, maybe five days. But this trip is major for me. I plan
to go for the Fall. Since the preparation and the trip to the River was
quite an adventure in itself, I think I better get that out of my system first.
I planned to leave the day after Labor Day (Sept. 6), but about two weeks
before Labor Day, something came up and wouldn't be able to leave until
late Sept.. BUMMER !!!!!!! Well, not really, everything worked out fine. It
gave me more time to get everything together. It also gave me time to get
the fall & winter garden planted. Then I had to get the Beau Cages up. We
call them Bogards. They are large cages (approx. 8'X9'or10') built with PBC
pipe and covered with small hole Chicken wire. This is to keep Beau out.
Beau is short for Beauregard. Beauregard is a Peacock. Beau can devour a
garden in no time. Kale is his favorite, but will eat almost anything. He
showed up here one day about three years ago, and decided this was home. He
was young and small, but now large and very colorful. Love them feathers
Beau. They tie some nice Beau flies, and he molts every year you know.

When we are gone we leave Beau in charge and he guards the place. You
don't want to mess with Beau. He's the last of the Raptors you know.
Where I'm headed there are no stores, so you must have food, water and
whatever you may need to stay for a month or two. It took a while to
organize food and all the accessories for the trip.
As for my fishin' "STUFF". I had been tying some flies since I got home
from the tour in July. Mainly tying Muddlers and Skaters (surface flies),
and a few small wet flies, fished on a floating line. As far as I'm
concerned, (in Steelhead fishin'), they only make sinking Heads and sink
tips lines for winter fishin'. Some may disagree. Most of my Muddlers were
tied with feathers from Beauregard la Peacock. They're Beau Muddlers.
Fishin' with floaters on the surface you don't lose many flies. You can
travel the river incredibly light. All I need is my favorite Rod for
Dry lining (so it's called). A 10', 7 weight old IMX Loomis, a good Reel with
plenty backing, a Wulff Triangle taper 8 weight fly line, a 10' to 12'
leader with 6 pound tippet, some fly floatent and a small box of flies. Now
all we need are the fish.

I noticed that occasionally while getting it all organized I would feel
the woozies a little. This is caused by pollen in the Spring or Fall
usually. It affects most people's Sinus. But with me, it attacks my inner
ear causing Vertigo. If it's bad, things never stop spinning and almost
impossible to go anywhere or do anything. I have found an herbal cure that
usually works wonders. It's called Southwest mixture and available at your
local Health food stores or Vitamin Houses. If they don't have it, they can
order it for you. I also know there's a Southeast mixture and probably a
mixture for the rest of the country. It totally works wonders for me and
Quick. By the time I got to the Health food store, they were sold out. Since

I was leaving in a day or two, there was no time to order any.
Finally got everything together and my Green Van ("old yeller") loaded.
Told Beau good-by and be sure to guard the place. Was feeling a little
woozie that morning when I left. The wind was blowing very hard from south
to north. That's good. North is where I'm headed, so this should help my gas
mileage. Especially now that gas is $75.00 a quart. and I don't get very good
gas mileage. Old Yeller is a camper Van with an extender top. It also has a
stove, refrigerator, sink, bed and plenty room for storage. Home Sweet Home.
My route is north to Flagstaff, to Page, and cross Lake Powell, to Salt
Lake City, to Boise, Idaho and into Oregon. Just north of Flagstaff the wind
shifted and was coming from the west. It turned into a dust storm and I
thought it would blow the Van over. The woozies are getting stronger. After
I crossed the Colorado River at Lake Powell, the road turns west across
southern Utah directly into the wind. It was so strong I could only get up
to 55mph at times. When I got to Kanab, Utah and turned north again, the
wind subsided. Damn!!!!! Made it through that one. Kinda like flying a Space
Ship on Acid.

The woozies were getting worse and it was becoming a real challenge to
drive at times. Main thing, no sudden moves with the head or it would really
spin. If I can only make it to Panquitch, Ut., which is where I usually
stay, it may be gone by morning. Panquitch is a very quaint little Cowboy
western town, probably built by Mormon Ranchers years ago. It's very near
the entrance to Bryce Canyon Nat. Park, so the scenery is beautiful. You
also drive by the Birthplace of Butch Cassidy. The old homestead is just off
to the side of the road. I don't think the State wants to recognize it as a
Historical place, because he was such a bad crook. Or was he a good one?
Probably would have made a great politician. Oh well, we have plenty
replacements.

Made it to Panquitch, same Motel as always and same room as last time.
I've traveled this route from Arizona to Seattle for many years. I was too
woozie to go out for dinner, so I just snacked in my room and laid low for
the evening. Everything should be ok by morning. I am about three hours from
Salt Lake City.

Got up next morning and the woozies are still with me. My main concern
now is driving through Salt Lake with all the heavy traffic. And it's about
100 miles through Salt Lake now that all the other towns have grown together
with it. Just a few years ago it was such a quaint little city, but over the
last few years it has been invaded, just like everywhere else. Head for the
Hills boys, the People are a comin'.

At every little town south of Salt Lake I would stop and look for a
Health food store. No luck. Now I'm starting to panic. The vertigo is not
letting up and seems to be getting worse. I'm sure there would be a few
Health food stores in Salt Lake, if I can just get there. Also one of my old
fishin' buddies, Dec Hogan, from Washington, who moved to Salt Lake a few
years ago was my hope. I know I wouldn't be able to drive around town
looking for a store, so I called Dec. I was in luck, because Dec had the day
off work and was home alone working on a book he's writing about Steelhead
fishing. The book should be out by summer 2006. Title so far, "A Passion for
Steelhead". OK Dec, now we are even.
I told Dec what I needed and he called back and said he had found the
mixture and would meet me at a certain exit. We met, I took the mixture
immediately. We visited for about an hour. Great to see Dec since I had not
seen him in a year or two. It was 3:00 pm and had to be on my way to get
ahead of RUSH HOUR. I left Dec and was definitely feeling better. HALLELUJAH
!!!!!!!

Now I would like to make it to Boise tonight. The woozies are better and I'm
goin' Fishin'...
Oh No !! I'm about an hour and a half out of Salt Lake and the woozies
are coming back. Had to stop for a spell so I got the bottle of mixture out
and when I read the label on the bottle, it said "for Salt Lake area".
Oh No... Only made it to Twin Falls, Idaho. Was getting very dizzy. Even had
trouble checking into the Motel. Now I am starting to Panic. What do I do??
Next morning I get up and the woozies are still there. I finally get on
the road and am driving towards Boise, very carefully. My Daughter in
Seattle knew of a large Health food store in Boise that should have the
mixture. The store is right down town Boise. So while my Daughter is looking
for the phone number, my wife (who is at daughters in Seattle) is on the
phone with me, trying to give me directions to the store. I am spinning so
bad now, there is no way I can drive into town. So they found the exit where
I should leave the freeway. They tell me to find a place at the exit to
leave my Van and take a Cab to the store. I guess that will work. I'm still
about an hour from Boise when my wife calls me with the bad news that the
store doesn't carry the mixture. Don't Panic, Don't Stress, just keep
drivin'. this was the last hope for finding the mixture.

About an hour past Boise I stopped for gas in Ontario, Oregon. I looked
down the street and saw a Wal-Mart. DAMN!!!! They carry all the drugs in
the Universe. Mabye I need drugs. I go in the store and this gentleman who
seems to know a hell of a lot about drugs says, take some of these and some
of these. One was Dramamine (for sea sickness & ect.). I took it and drove
on to La Grande, Oregon which is my jump off point from the freeway. Back
roads and mountains from here. Must say the dizzies are a little better.
Must be da drugs... Checked into a Motel and tried to take the other stuff I
got at Wal-Mart. Couldn't do it, it taste so horrible like chemicals it must
have had half of Exon Oil Co. in it. No wonder gas is so expensive. Anyway,
next morning I'm feeling a little better. Maybe it's because I'm getting
near the River. Only about three hours from here.

It was a beautiful drive for the next two hours through mountains, up
rivers & streams through beautiful valleys. Just as I was coming into the
little town of Enterprise, (keeping the trip interesting), I had a Migraine
headache coming on. On No!! blind spots and all. Oh Well, just part of the
trip I guess. I pull into the parking lot of a Safeway store, took some
Asprin and slept for an hour. Woke up and it's gone. Head was a little sore.
I filled up with gas because next stop is the River and I don't know if they
have gas down in that area or not, and that's over an hour away. When I get
there I find there is gas at one place. $3.60 per gallon. If you had to haul
gas into there, you would understand why.

Left Enterprise and drove for about an hour to the top of the Grand Ronde
Canyon. Awesome!! Just Awesome. Six or seven miles down the winding narrow
canyon road to the River. A little place called Bogans. There's a restaurant,
Cabins, boat launch and trailer camping. Wow!! And there's the River, river,
river......

And that was the Trip there. Now the Fishin' Starts..