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Fisherfolk always have their favoured spots to fish, generally carefully guarded secrets of the trade. 

In my case I like a spot with a quartet of things going for it. 

To begin with, time in my world means fishing is always a day trip, and often it is constrained to a few mornings, or evening hours, so I want a spot close to Yorkton. 

As a shore fisherman that is a bit more limiting, but there are a solid few choices within say a 90-minute drive. 

Secondly, I like to know I’m not going to be pulling aquatic weeds off the lure with every cast, nor snagging stones all day. The first is an annoyance. The second a costly situation if the rocks claim a spoon that can easily cost six, or seven loonies these days. The hobby of getting spoons wet is becoming more costly all the time. 

Next, a bit of ambiance is nice. Because shore fishing tends to confine you to a rather limited area of water from which to catch fish, СÀ¶ÊÓƵ shut-out is simply one of those things you come to accept as part of the hobby. We don’t like it. We lament it all the way home. We may threaten to never fish the spot again. But we eventually arrive at acceptance and simply move on knowing we will try again. 

So, if you’re not going to catch fish, it’s nice to enjoy wildlife. A beaver swimming down the river – like the recent eve at Cutarm Creek – is just neat to see. Sure, as a youth I could walk down the home creek and find beavers at work damming an old dugout in the pig pasture, where Dad was happy they were holding back water for the stock, but that was about 45-years ago, so seeing one today is an enjoyed rarity. 

You can include turtles, garter snakes, whitetail grazing, red-winged blackbirds, various waterfowl, leopard frogs, gophers and a Noah’s Ark of other wild critters that when they happen by where I fish, I appreciate the appearance nearly as much as the fishing. 

And, finally I like a spot where I, at least semi-regularly, catch fish, which of course is the core goal of things. 

The aforementioned Cutarm Creek, just a bit south of Churchbridge ticks off all four boxes so a recent Tuesday eve after work my son and I headed out, ham and Swiss cheese croissants and coke packed for supper courtesy my better half. They were devoured as soon as the first cast had been made. 

Then we settled in for a couple of hours of jig fishing. It was warm, relaxing. The wildlife visited. The fish co-operated. It was not a night for the record book. We only caught about a dozen perch. There were a couple we might have kept, but it was obvious the school we had hit upon was kindergarten for fish – they were tiny – so we sent them back for more schooling, and a few years of growth. 

We didn’t get a meal out of it. I’m not sure had we kept all 12 we would have not been hungry after digging in, but as I pointed out, what would have been better that eve than fishing Cutarm Creek? 

That is the essence of fishing. You are out in nature, unplugged from the cyber-world, breathing fresh air and enjoying СÀ¶ÊÓƵ away from the 9-to-5 world, or the lawn that needs mowing.  

So cast a line and breath for the pure joy of it. Catching fish – well that’s just a bonus.