The road came to a stop and you had to pull off into a field which looking at it you couldnt tell ther was even any plae to fish at. You went over the ever popular cattle rails when so many farms back in Ash Grove use. Now you may be asking yourself what is a cattle rail well thats when you have a a series of concrete rails in the ground about 5 inches apart so the cattle dont step into them and you dont have to a have a gate to open every time you enter the field you can just drive in but they wont walk out because they wont put there hoves in a spot that is open and they could get causgth in. As you passed the cattle rails you came into a non manicured field that ol Johnny boy never did take care just let it grow and sometime let the cattle graxe onit at. Had our own little secet way to river though you had to pass to a huge metal building some called the hanger, resembleing a old wwII or earlier building they would store tanks or larges trucks in. And down a hills into a breath taking and perfect little fishing hole, Also the river was Joe Hatchs land we had permission to get to the river from which would have been a easier task all together but whats the fun in doing something the easy way, and besides it had become a ritual to go through the hanger and feel like we were special agents on a mission to get to the river. Ill never forget the first time we all went down there to fish.
The gang consisted of John of course the owner, well lets back that up the son of the owner we were tearing up the fields on. Then we had Taylor, so would consider the clown of our group and city slicker, we never really thought T could fish at all but he came. The other two that came with us that day well they were upperclassmen the seniors of our school, not like it really matter one was my cousin Evan, me and him grew up probably about a mile away
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