Of Woods and Waters: A Kentucky Outdoors Reader

The Great Ohio River Catfish Hunting Expedition

GAYLORD COOPER The Great Ohio River Catfish Hunting Expedition From Down the River: A Collection of Ohio Valley Fiction & Poetry (1991) IT ALL STARTED when we all were fishing at the river on a Saturday night. All our poles had been fixed and set up and our lines were out in the current waiting for the fish to bite. I was in charge of two of the poles and I was just sitting there enjoying the river. It was so smooth and calm that it looked like a big lake. Now when I said "all" I meant Larry, Jack, Rog, and me. We'd been fishing together ever since any of us had been big enough to drag a fishing pole behind us. And too, when I said "river" I meant the Ohio River. Now here abouts in this part of Kentucky when you said "river" why everybody knew what you meant. Not Big Sandy, Little Sandy, or ever Tygart Creek. River simply meant the Ohio River. Same way with "fishin." Everybody knew what that meant also. If you said you were goin fishin, why everybody around here would know you were going catfish fishing. If you were going bass fishing or crappie fishing or perch fishing, why you said so. But just plain fishin meant you were going for catfish. When we, Larry, Jack, Rog, and me, said we were going to the river to fish, everybody knew that we were going to the Ohio River to try to catch a mess of catfish. Simple. It was a warm and clear night and we were getting set to do some serious fishing in the river. I was watching some poles and Larry was watching a couple of poles and reading the Greenup 2 45 County weekly newspaper. Rog and Jack was up the bank gathering some driftwood for the fire we had just built. All at once Larry jumped up and started hollering and going on something awful. I jumped up and ran over to him, and Jack and Rog came running, throwing driftwood every which way. We thought that Larry might have gotten snake bit or that our school had won a ball game. There was more chance of Larry getting snake bit than that, though. We all gathered round wanting to know what the big fuss was all about. What all the fuss turned out to be was a fishing contest sponsored by the newspaper. Whoever brought the biggest catfish to the courthouse square in Greenup, the county seat, before six o'clock on Memorial Day would get their picture in the paper and a brand new hundred dollar bill. Larry explained to us that Memorial Day meant Decoration Day. The county judge and the outdoor writer for the newspaper, a local hardware store clerk who liked to hunt and fish, would weigh the fish brought in. The newspaper was the one giving the money away. Wow, none of us had ever seen a used hundred dollar bill, let alone a new one. Right then and there on the riverbank we planned the Great Ohio River Catfish Huntin Expedition. We figured that nobody knew as much about the river and catfish as we did. We started making plans on how to spend our part of the money that Larry said would come to twenty-five dollars apiece. That was a lot of money. You had to bale an awful lot of hay to get anything like it. Larry told us all not to go countin our chickens before they hatched. Huh. A lot he knew. I wasn't countin no chickens and I sure wasn't aiming to buy any. A new rifle maybe, but no chickens. Rog said that they had plenty of chickens at home and would sell Larry all he wanted. Cheap. Larry explained what he meant. That night on the riverbank by a good driftwood fire we set about planning the great expedition and assigning jobs. Rog would be our tactical specialist. None of us had the foggiest idea 246 OF WOODS & WATERS what that was, but according to Rog's brother, who was in the army, expeditions had to have one, so Rog was ours. Larry was in charge of equipment. Our reels were OK, but we would have to have new line if we were going after the really big catfish. We all gave him some of our hard...