My earliest childhood trout fishing memory was formed at roadside pay pond in Foscoe, NC. We practiced with the the little 7’- 4WT Hardy in the yard before the trip so I would know what to do when the time came. Once we arrived, we stalked around the pond to see where the big boys were laying, crept up the the edge, and positioned ourselves for the cast. He cast the fly out for me, handed me the rod them told me to “strip, strip, strip” like he we has practiced repeated earlier in my grandpaw’s back yard. The little yellow, red, and black striped fly with in-line spinner, a gift to my dad from a fisherman friend in Green Bay WI, was quickly engulfed by is fat rainbow and the fight was on! The days I have been able to spend afield with Dad are many, but this one with my first trout is special.