Appeal Tribune
| WEDNESDAY, APRIL 20, 2022 | 1B
OUTDOORS
T I M B E R L I N N P A R K
WHERE ANGLERS AND OSPREY SHARE THE TROUT
Henry Miller Special to the Statesman Journal
ALBANY – An osprey broke from a swirl of three
companions, hovered about 20 feet above Timber
Linn Lake, then locked in on its prey and dove
with a loud, inelegant splat. h “She got one,” May
Grillone said as the large raptor known as a fish
hawk tried to take off with a smallish fish. h
“Nope, dropped it,” Grillone said as the now-fish-
less osprey soared back to join the others to con-
tinue the search for a meal. h “That’s why we
come here. It’s beautiful out here. We love it,” she
said about fishing trips, weekly lately, with her
companion, Colleen McCarthy, from their home
in Jefferson.
x Neither rain, nor snow … when the trout-stocking
trucks roll during the winter, starting around Halloween,
so do the anglers, as this snowy scene at Timber Linn
Lake illustrates.
y May Grillone, front, and Colleen McCarthy of Jefferson
are weekly visitors to Timber Linn Lake in Albany, with
the birds, critters and the setting making for a delightful
day. HENRY MILLER / SPECIAL TO THE STATESMAN JOURNAL
Both were comfortably ensconced in folding
chairs, rods propped on holders. Grillone had a
pair of binoculars in a case slung over the back
of the chair that she occasionally took out to
scope out the action.
Fishing for trout, Grillone and McCarthy
were having about as much luck as the belea-
guered bird.
The lake was scheduled to be stocked with
1,000 rainbow trout, but the truck apparently
hadn’t arrived before the pair arrived.
Neither seemed to mind.
The setting, and the birds, were entertain-
ment enough until a trout showed up.
“Usually when you come here, there’s balds
(bald eagles), or osprey, or golden eagles,” Gril-
lone said.
From observation and experience, both rated
the fishing prowess of the birds that frequent
Timber Linn Lake.
“The osprey usually never catch anything,
but the cormorants sure do,” McCarthy said.
“They’ll just dive down there and come up with
a trout.
“The bald (eagle) every once in a while will
come down and perch in that tree right there,”
she said, gesturing to a tall tree on the opposite
bank. “And occasionally she’ll come up with
something.”
Smiling, Grillone chimed in, “oh, the good
times.”
Among the avian anglers, she had to agree
with McCarthy.
“Cormorants do pretty good out here, catch a
lot of small fish, she said. “That’s a good sign,
usually if there’s prey out here, little fish” there’s
bound to be bigger fish.
McCarthy waxed philosophical about the
early spring day, the wheeling birds of prey and
the abundant but wary ducks, along with the
budding and blooming trees.
“It’s relaxing, even if we don’t catch anything
it’s still time out here watching wildlife,” she
said, then smiled. “And there’s always the hope
and chance that you might catch something,
which adds to the excitement.
“We don’t come with any expectations that
we’re going to catch anything. It’s just that’s
what fishing people do.
“You’re going to sit, and you’re going to wait.”
And sometimes, like the splash and takeoff
of one of the osprey across the lake with a fish,
you get lucky.
“That’s a good sign,” Grillone offered.
So was the arrival of several other anglers,
perhaps a portent of a stocking truck on the
way.
According to the Oregon Department of Fish
See TROUT, Page 2B
How fishing is passed from one generation to the next
Fishing
Henry Miller
Guest columnist
Like father, very much like sons.
“We were all into fishing really heavi-
ly,” Travis Sowers said about growing up
in Keizer.
“Our father got us into fishing. He
would carry us on his shoulders to these
fishing ponds. That was the way he
went.”
Brothers Travis, Mike and Ted, the
latter named for their father, grew up
with fishing rods in their hands.
“He would take all of his boys with
him,” Travis said. “And we would go to
all of these rivers and stuff.
“And he would go back and forth, tak-
ing us on his shoulders across these riv-
ers trying to get to better fishing spots.
So there were a lot of memories like that.
“It was unbelievable. I mean we went
fishing every chance we were able to go,
and we caught a lot of nice fish. And def-
initely had a nice childhood fishing”
The longtime apprenticeship turned
the pastime into a passion for all of the
brothers.
But nobody swallowed the hook
deeper than his brother, Ted, Travis
said.
“Well, Ted would take off early in the
morning, and he was only 10 to 12 years
old, and he’d take off really early in the
morning, and he wouldn’t come back
until really late in the afternoons.”
He rambled and angled most of the
fishable waters in and around Keizer,
Travis recalled.
“Those ditches that run through
McNary Golf Course and into Clear
Lake, all of those. He’d walk all of those
lakes, And he’d walk all of those ponds,
all of those rivers.
“I tell you what, sometimes he would
scare us because he’d be gone for 10 to 12
hours a day fishing.”
The brothers’ angling apprentice-
ships paid off big-time when Travis, the
owner of Batteries Northwest in Salem,
bagged a 21-pound, 5-ounce bull trout,
less than 2 pounds off the state record,
on March 26 at Lake Billy Chinook while
fishing with Ted. You can read the full
story online at First trip for bull trout on
Lake Billy Chinook almost nets a record
(statesmanjournal.com)
My phone interview with Ted for the
big-trout story was something of a hap-
py reunion.
I first learned about his fishing prow-
ess more than a decade ago when he
lived in Salem and worked for Travis at
Ted Sowers with a hefty largemouth
more than a decade ago when he
schooled me about bass fishing on the
Willamette River. HENRY MILLER / SPECIAL
TO THE STATESMAN JOURNAL
Batteries Northwest, with a side gig as
Salem’s then-only bass guide.
Ted took me out for a story about
slough fishing on the Willamette River,
sort of an angling version of a Ted Talk.
It was one of several memorable trips.
He was something of a largemouth
whisperer, pulling bruiser after bruiser
from the backwater between Minto
Brown Island Park and Riverfront Park.
So when Ted sent me a picture of Tra-
vis and himself with the monster bull
trout, it was a welcome opportunity to
reconnect, with a side of friendly rib-
bing.
I couldn’t resist commenting on his
luxuriant beard.
As with all tales told by avid anglers,
even about facial fur, there’s always a
back story.
“No-shave November (a national
fund-raising competition) started in
October, and I just decided to grow it
out. That’s the first time I ever growed it
out,” Ted said.
He didn’t make the top 25 on the na-
tional finishers … but wait, there’s more.
“What’s funny is that we went to a
Scottish party, and I got a pipe and
glasses and one of those little (tam
o’shanter) hats,” Ted said, then let loose
with trademark, infectous laugh that he
and Travis share. “And I ended up taking
first place.”
Again, the laugh.
“No kilt. It was just from the waist
up.”
I can’t wait to get together with both
brothers the next time Ted’s in Salem
See MILLER, Page 2B