It’s cloudless and 104. My mother has just telephoned me from Nashville: “You don’t go to Arizona in the summer.” After more than five decades . . .
I have just parked my car in Papago Park and seeing the first of the three Papago Ponds erases all effects of the heat.
Gorgeous! Surrounded by rocks and desert and those Arizona orange/red hues, these three patches of blue are postcards. I see gray lizards scampering everywhere, herons along the shores (including one pure white giant), those tall cacti on the hillsides, and a smattering of chattering birds that I can’t identify.
There are three ponds here – each about two or three casts across and bordered by palms and other foliage. The three ponds are terraced, each further up the hill, and each draining into the next. In the shallows I see bluegill, tilapia, and bass fingerlings.
I circle the two lower ponds as I cast a plastic worm. Nothing.
When I reach the top pond I tie on a Senko and catch a bass – about a pound – on my first cast in the shadow of an over-leaning palm. Then a second bass – twice as large – on the second cast under another palm.
On the far bank I see the only other anglers here at Papago Park – three men attending baited rods. I fish my way around to them – without another fish – and introduce myself. They smile and are generous with their hospitality and conversation.
They are Jesus Placencia and his 19-year-old son David, and his 16-year-old nephew Angel Garcia. They come here a lot. It’s their favorite fishing hole.
Jesus – the father – started fishing when he took David when he was 5. “I started liking it because he did,” grins Jesus. (Refreshingly backwards from the way it usually works.) He has a genuinely affecting smile on a face that is tanned and creased from 30 years in the roofing tile business. He was born in Mexico and moved to Phoenix when he was 23. “The first fish he caught,” he says about David, “were bluegill and we had to clean and cook them.” They all laugh.
Today they’re fishing with live nightcrawlers. Their largest bass from this pond was a 4-pounder that hit a nightcrawler. They also catch tilapia on them. Today Jesus will also cast a chrome Rat-L-Trap on which he will hang and lose a bass when it jumps.
David works for Western Window Systems, and Angel is still in school.
“It’s relaxing. It’s calming,” says David about fishing.
“I like it because I get away from everybody,” offers Angel.
They usually arrive early and fish until 1:00 or 2:00 – “until it starts getting unbearable,” explains David. “Or we run out of bait,” adds Angel. I ask if the fish are biting and it’s really, really hot, will they stay anyway. All agree yes.
They tell me that today is cool. Usually it’s 110. Last year it got to 118. They are amused when I lament that 90 is hot in Virginia.
Following Jesus, I tie on a chrome Rat-L-Trap and catch 2 more – a 14-incher and a 10-incher. A bigger one follows the lure in.When I leave, my clothing – all of it – is soaked. Jesus and his son and nephew and I share the inability to resist the siren call of fishy waters – even in Arizona in the summer and even in spite of motherly wisdom.
Photo: John Bryan (me) at Papago Ponds
