Iglanced at my watch for the hundredth time and looking up saw several others checking theirs. Five minutes left till 8 a.m., the first day of trout season.

Despite the terrible weather at least 15 others waited anxiously. One little fella was only 4 years old and the drenching rain didn’t seem to bother him one bit.

I was shocked how few fishermen had rain gear! Cotton hoodies keep the drops from striking your person but they soak up rainwater like a sponge and cold cotton is lethal to your body temperature. Well, they had an hour to fish before they began shaking and were forced to leave.

Finally, the last five minutes crawled by and everyone cast out full of anticipation. I whipped a spoon across the current and close to shore had a solid hit. The trout had been in the stream for some two weeks, was thinned down and full of fight, jumping twice. The trout kept shying away from the net in the fast current and it took some time to bring her to the meshes and lift her from the water.

Nice, a 14-inch rainbow, a very decent fish.

Looking up, several other fishermen were battling trout of their own along with the 4-year-old, desperately hanging on to the pole and trying to reel at the same time; not easy at that age with a determined fish on the other end of the line. With his father’s assistance he landed the feisty rainbow and the little fella’s face lite up with joy and pride.

But how were all these wonderful fishing experiences surrounding me possible? How did the fish get here, where did they come from and how did it all start? Great questions indeed.

In 1864 a farsighted fish culturist named Seth Green built a fish hatchery at Caledonia, N.Y. near Rochester. Overfishing of the region’s streams and few if any regulations on size or numbers had decimated the local trout waters.

Green realized sustainable fishing for the streams close to him could only be met by stocking fish.

The hatchery and the concept itself were an immediate success and drew attention statewide. Due largely to his efforts and growing public demand, New York established a stocking program in 1868, officially declaring its commitment to effectively managing fish populations.

In 1875 the state purchased Green’s hatchery and in 1876 the first largescale stockings began. The state built a second hatchery at Saranac in 1885. Over the years more and more hatcheries were constructed.

In 1932 Dennis Hartnett proposed a novel idea, using float planes to reach remote Adirondack Lakes, which were inaccessible by any other method. Trout were returning to waters throughout the state.

As roads and technology improved, specially equipped trucks were able to safely move trout longer distances, increasing the number of stocked streams much to the delight of nearby residents. Now New York raises approximately 14.4 million brown, brook and rainbow trout yearly.

Pennsylvania’s stocking program began similarly to New York’s around 1870 with private citizens building their own hatcheries and stocking trout in nearby waters.

One of the first streams stocked was the upper Susquehanna with rainbows. At the time they were carried in milk cans, which severely limited how far they could be transported until a railcar was specially equipped to move them longer distances. The car was named the Susquehanna, for obvious reasons.

Pennsylvania purchased its first hatchery in 1875 and recognizing the changing stream conditions purchased brown trout eggs from Germany in 1886. Eggs are much easier to keep alive crossing an ocean than a trout itself. Brown trout replaced native brook trout in many waters as stream temperatures and sediment concentrations rose, making it impossible for native brookies to regenerate in many watersheds.

Today, Pennsylvania stocks approximately 4 million trout yearly.

Without stocking hundreds of thousands of anglers statewide, millions nationwide, would be unable to fish for trout — and what a tragedy that would be for fishermen of all ages, especially the young. I find it interesting that it took dedicated, committed individuals to build private hatcheries and initiate stocking on their own, beginning the process, before the government saw the potential and realized what a wonderful program it was and could become, eventually building hatcheries statewide. Again, the above scenario reveals the critical importance of democracy, freedom of choice for the individual allowing private initiative and its rewards.

After all these years people are taking the stocking truck for granted and I find it’s amusing how people look at stocking and position themselves on it. Instead of falling on their knees and thanking God the area’s streams are once again teeming with trout, a vague set of rules has emerged on whether you should follow the truck and if you do how you behave. Most interesting.

My knee-jerk reaction to this is why in the world wouldn’t you follow the truck? Your license fees paid for the truck, the workers’ wages … the whole shebang. Honestly, I had my own prejudices for years, but now that I’m older when I see or follow a truck, I realize they’re filled not with fish, but pure joy for so many and that, without a doubt, is a very good thing and shouldn’t be taken for granted.

Wade Robertson