Anyone use a cane pole when they were young?

Yeah I remember doing that. Also remember taking a old flat Jon boat and paddling around in Lake Marion in South Carolina and catching anything that swims around the cypress knees with the overhanging moss above our heads hanging off the trees. We were young and I'm surprised my dad would let us out there alone. :) man sweet simple times.

Early spring in Alabama when the lakes were muddy, my Dad would rig us up really stout cane poles with about 6 feet of 50# mono line and a 4/0 live bait hook and no weight. He'd put two or three large nightcrawlers on the hook in such a way that they really had a lot of action then he'd scull the piroque around stumps and flooded timber dipping the crawlers in and around the cover as we went. We caught some monster bass like that. The trick is as soon as you feel the bite you have to quickly pull the fish out of the water and into the piroque or they would hang up every time.

you guys were lucky, to have a dad teach you to fish. my Dad served in Korea, he never cared for fishing, my memories of him were, his likes were Whores and strong drinks. he also died very young, age 50. my memories of my dad aren't very good ones. but thats life. but I did learn to fish with a cane pole, lots of them on the creek bank where I was raised. my grand mother loved to fish more than anyone I ever new, and she would let me help her dig worms, well she would dig and let me pick them up and put them in a can. we would walk to this big hole of water in a bend in the creek, and fish all day. make a stringer from a limber limb off a bush. anything that would be caught would be cleaned and fried. I remember her telling me, look honey spit on the bait, before dropping it in the water. and I still do that to this day, if I'm fishing with live worms. my grandmother has been dead for 48 years the 10th of this month, and as I typed this I wipe tears thinking of her, and how she would hold me close to her side on the muddy creek bank.

thanks SLP for starting this thread, it gave me some heart warming flashbacks.

It was my Uncle who took me the first time. I wasn't even allowed to use a hook with a barb. He made me a hook out of a large safety pin. I was the happiest boy in the county when I finally was trusted with a barbed hook.

The hardware store always got a new supply of cane poles early in the spring.

[QUOTE=waterdog101;505927]you guys were lucky, to have a dad teach you to fish. my Dad served in Korea, he never cared for fishing, my memories of him were, his likes were Whores and strong drinks. he also died very young, age 50. my memories of my dad aren't very good ones. but thats life. but I did learn to fish with a cane pole, lots of them on the creek bank where I was raised. my grand mother loved to fish more than anyone I ever new, and she would let me help her dig worms, well she would dig and let me pick them up and put them in a can. we would walk to this big hole of water in a bend in the creek, and fish all day. make a stringer from a limber limb off a bush. anything that would be caught would be cleaned and fried. I remember her telling me, look honey spit on the bait, before dropping it in the water. and I still do that to this day, if I'm fishing with live worms. my grandmother has been dead for 48 years the 10th of this month, and as I typed this I wipe tears thinking of her, and how she would hold me close to her side on the muddy creek bank.

thanks SLP for starting this thread, it gave me some heart warming flashbacks.[/QUOTE]

Man thanks for sharing. :) great stuff!

[QUOTE=waterdog101;505927]you guys were lucky, to have a dad teach you to fish. my Dad served in Korea, he never cared for fishing, my memories of him were, his likes were Whores and strong drinks. he also died very young, age 50. my memories of my dad aren't very good ones. but thats life. but I did learn to fish with a cane pole, lots of them on the creek bank where I was raised. my grand mother loved to fish more than anyone I ever new, and she would let me help her dig worms, well she would dig and let me pick them up and put them in a can. we would walk to this big hole of water in a bend in the creek, and fish all day. make a stringer from a limber limb off a bush. anything that would be caught would be cleaned and fried. I remember her telling me, look honey spit on the bait, before dropping it in the water. and I still do that to this day, if I'm fishing with live worms. my grandmother has been dead for 48 years the 10th of this month, and as I typed this I wipe tears thinking of her, and how she would hold me close to her side on the muddy creek bank.

thanks SLP for starting this thread, it gave me some heart warming flashbacks.[/QUOTE]

I'm so sorry about your relationship with your Dad, maybe the war changed him. If it did his behavior is not his fault and all us Americans owe him for his service. My Daddy served as a SCPO in the Navy during Vietnam onboard the USS Sphinx, he had buddies that became "different people" after they came home, at that time no one at home "understood" as Daddy used to say. It sounds like your Grandmom was one heckofa lady who loved her Grandson very much. I lost my Daddy a couple of years ago and I still cry every day. We shared a love of fishing and having fun, everytime I fish to this day it's like he's there with me. I think he really is. It feels so good when I make a nice catch or make that perfect cast, I can see that big grin and those proud eyes and then he says "That's my little girl." I miss you Daddy.

Thanks to all, I really have enjoyed reading everyone's stories and memories. No need for anyone to apologize about derailing the thread either; threads like this are all about our memories and wherever that takes us.

I remember it like it was yesterday, I was seven and the cane pole was 133 ft long.

[QUOTE=Tyme2fish;505860]Mea Culpa about the hijack. But Mark started it!!:D[/QUOTE]

Ha Ha....Ya know I forgot to say that Mom, God rest her soul loved to fish more than Dad. We had a camp at Guist Creek on the point for 17 years and I can still see her in my minds eye sitting on that dock catching Gills and tossing them into that basket. She nad I would clean them and she would cook them up for us...

She was a patient fisher person and loved it dearly...:)

Spent many days in the summer in Eastern Ky fishin with a cane pole. Mom and dad would work the garden and me and my younger brother would hit the creek. Seemed like the garden was always near the creek, either Troublesome or Ball Creek. Dad usually rigged us about a 8 foot cane pole with enough line to stick the hook in the bottom of the pole. Stick bobber and a small sinker and we were in business. Dad turned some dirt in the garden to find some worms for us and when they run out, we caught crawdads. Caught plenty of red eyes, gils, and an occasional nice smallie. Oh the memories. This past year, my 10 year old little girl finally showed some interest in fishing with me in the creek and we hit it wide open. Technique and equipment is a little different but I hope to share in the same memories i have. Thanks for the trip down memory lane!!

Grew up in FL fishing with a cane pole. Me and my brothers fished in some ponds down the street from us and I be darned if the only way to catch the big cats was with a cane pole. We had to bait the hook (hot dog) swim out to a certain spot, jam the cane pole in the mud and swim back to shore and wait. When the pole bent over you swam back out, grabbed the pole and swam 1 handed to the bank with the pole and cat on it. What seemed to be 20 lbs then, I realize today was about 6-8 lbs but using a regular pole casting out never caught them, only the cane pole stuck in the mud. We fished for years that way until a mower ran over our cane poles. We left them down there along the fence line so we only had to ride the bicycle down with two hot dogs in your pocket. Only to find someone brush hogged over them one day and that was the end of the cane pole era.