[Billfish715]

Way, way back in the day when parents worked all day and there was no parental transportation because there was only one family car; as kids, we had to find our own way to a fishing hole. Creek chubs were often the only gamefish in town in most of the small brooks where we fished. Small pieces of worm or homemade dough balls on size 14 Aberdeen hooks, with a tiny sliver of tree stem for a bobber kept us focused for hours while trying to catch chubs that were often no bigger than 4-5 inches. It taught us patience and touch and persistence which prepped us for when we could actually fish for trout and bass.

We never turned our noses up at anything with fins. If it was a fish, no matter what size, it was fair game. For us kids, catching a sucker was a trophy. Whether it was catching shiners in Echo Lake (Union County) or chubs behind the old trap range in Kenilworth, or red/orange comet goldfish/carp in Nomahegan Pond or sunnies along the banks of the Rahway River, it was all good. Wherever our one-speed, balloon-tired bikes would take us, we fished.

Catching chubs in an uncharted body of water on ultralight gear brings out the kid in all of us. Thanks for stirring up some great memories of a time when life was a lot less complicated.