The Maynard Gang

A recent conversation with my grandson, Mason Parker Seawel, age 11, caused a stark revelation. Most young and some middleaged and old Randolph countians have little understanding of our traditional culture. This is especially true of outdoor sports and their terminology.

Chester and I were reminiscing about when I first took him redhorse gigging at age 14. I was explaining about rigging lights, alternating giggers and paddlers, the stretch of Fourche River where we did it, and the skill required to allow for fish speed, depth, current and angle of refraction to make a successful gig thrust when Mason asked, “Is redhorse like a catfish or a bass?” While I was describing the species, he, typical of kids who grew up in the age of technology, Googled and found a picture.

Further explaining about shoals and that the best stretch for shoals was between the state line and Middlebrook, I received another query. “What’s a shoal?” I enlightened the lad that shoals were swift, shallow gravel bottom areas just upstream from riffles where the river narrows.



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