Hankins Tales: Memories of The Big Catch

(Originally posted to social media on September 3, 2023)

When I was just getting started in the boy scouts I was a little bit of a loner. I did not sit around the campfire poking the other kids with flaming sticks. I would normally go off and find my own entertainment. I recall that the troop had decided to camp up at Altamons up near Shawsville. My father had told me that it was on the upper reaches of the Roanoke River so I took my fishing rod along. My fishing gear in those days was a Zebco 505 and a couple of Mepps spinners.

The river in that area was little more than a glorified stream. But there were deep pockets and holes that might retain fish even in October. I started casting and I did not have any luck at first but all of a sudden I was hit by a very heavy fish. The rod was so light that it was a major battle and it attracted other boys who were playing upstream. They all came running down to see what I might have caught. It took a little time but eventually I managed to land the fish. It was a sucker, we called them Horse suckers but it was about 18 inches long and it was a fighter. But I knew that this was not an eating fish. The other goobers teased me without mercy and they went running back to the campsite to tell the story to anybody that might listen. I released the sucker and tried again in the same deep hole.

I was alone again and I was caught off guard when the water around the spinner exploded and a big fish took it deep. This fish was even bigger than the sucker and when it jumped all of a sudden I realized that I had a big trout. This was a fish that had survived the onslaught of summer fishermen and had gained some size along the way. It took a long time to subdue the fish. I knew a little bit about fish and I could tell it was a big brown that was about 21 inches in length. It was beautiful with red dots and white dots and black dots that acted as camo in the river. It’s jaw was hooked and mean looking. I took my pocket knife and cut the fish right at the top of the head to put it out of its misery. I planned to eat this monster. I found a green branch and I hung the fish through the gills. At that point I knew that this one fish would be enough to feed me and anybody who wanted to try it. I started walking up the road with that fish hanging beside me. Some of the other doofusses spotted me and started making fun of me bringing a sucker back into camp.

However when I got close they quickly shut up. The fish created a sensation and my scoutmaster told me what a beauty it was. He was a big fisherman. I built a small fire and I made a basket of green twigs and I roasted that fish over those coals. Everybody else was eating burned macaroni but I was dining at the Ritz. The fish had deep red flesh and it was spectacular. I allowed a few good friends to have a bite. Nobody had cell phones in those days so there are no pictures but it is forever etched in my memory.

With permission of the author, these stories by noted scouter and storyteller John Hankins are featured here at Natahwop.Org. He shares these as part of the history and lore of Camp Powhatan, Camp Ottari, and the High Knoll Trail, where he spent many years of his youth. John has an incomperable first-hand knowledge of this scout reservation, as he blazed most of the original trails for High Knoll, and has hiked the rest of them several times over.

John Hankins grew up in Troop 50 (Woodlawn United Methodist Church) in Roanoke, VA. He attended Camp Powhatan as a young scout, then worked at Philmont Ranch as a ranger. He returned to the reservation to serve on camp staff from 1968 to 1978. He was a legendary naturalist who could interpret the outdoors unlike any other. As a teacher, John often relied on the element of excitement to get his point across. His weekly lectures at the nature lodge, for example, introduced scouts to either a live rattlesnake or copperhead – usually dangling on a stick within a few feet of the front row.

John and several others first envisioned the now-legendary High Knoll trail system. They took it to council leadership for prospective funding, where the idea gained several key advocates (but no funding). John recalls how – in those days – they couldn’t pay the staff with money, so they gave them patches. The High Knoll Trail would go on to become one of the best outdoor programs in the country.

John applied in 1979 for the open job of Camp Ranger, but the council said he needed more experience in that post. With his rejection letter in hand, he was immediately hired by Camp Chickohominy, and then by Camp Brady Saunders where he served for 33 years as Camp Ranger. John moved with his wife, Cheri, to West Virginia where they enjoyed the spoils of retirement: grandchildren, travel, and the great outdoors. As of 2024, they are living on the outskirts of Richmond where they can be closer to family.

(“Hankins Tales” are shared here by permission of the author. Each story is copyrighted by John Hankins, and may not be reproduced in any form without his express written permission.)

The Natahwop

Hankins Tales: Memories of The Big Catch

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