Dales Hepworth's Story

SOME TRIVIAL HISTORY ABOUT

GRANGER’S DRAIN DITCH

by Dale K Hepworth 2019

Linda Hepworth.jpg


My Dad and one of my uncles used to get together and talk about fishing. The conversation at some point would turn to wishing that some day they could spend time “up north” in Montana where the trout fishing was “really good”. They would also talk about how my Dad used to fish across the street from our house in Granger and catch trout out of the canal that ran along the side of the road (3600 West). At the time of those conversations (in the mid-1950s) the canal near our house had been buried and put in a culvert pipe, but could still be accessed one-half mile to the north (3100 South) where it again run free through open fields. Because of those wishes and the canal being north of our house, they started calling it Montana. I grew up thinking “that place” was Montana.
I didn’t get the joke, but I did understand the routine. I knew when my Dad was due to come home from work, and I would be ready with a can of worms and two fishing poles. As soon as he stepped out of his work truck I would start pestering him to take me fishing. We would check with Mom to find out when dinner would be ready. Then, we would drive to Montana and fish for an hour before it was time to return home and eat. The enclosed photo shows a fish I caught with my Dad’s help on one of those trips in 1957. That picture brings back a flood of memories.
I eventually learned that most of the locals called that canal the Drain Ditch, not Montana. Its source was the Jordan River somewhere in the Bennion-Taylorsville area. From there it wound its way northwest through Granger, eventually feeding the old Kennecott Copper Duck Club Lake and Ponds. The variety of fish in the Drain Ditch included everything in the Jordan River plus fish that were stocked by Kennecott Copper in the Duck Club ponds. When the irrigation season ended and water was turned off from the Jordan River the Drain Ditch still had a good base flow of fresh water from the high water table and many springs and seeps around Granger. Many fish from the Duck Club would seek out the cooler, fresh water in the summer time and move up into the Drain Ditch where they could survive year-round.
When I was a little older and could go without my Dad, I discovered that fishing was pretty good in a second open section of the Drain Ditch in fields a block or so east of Granger High School. I often fished with neighborhood friends who were part of my extended Warr and Orr family (including Vic Nacarato and Craig Orr). Another good fishing hole was kitty corner across the street from my house on 3600 west and 3500 south. It was directly across the street (south) of where Orr’s Feed Mill originally existed and next to the airplane wing turned on end that served as an advertising sign for the gas station. It consisted of a square concrete manhole with a sturdy metal cover that was not as heavy as cast iron. With the aid of a shovel or pry bar I could push the cover ajar sufficient enough to drop a line with a baited hook. The other end of the line was attached to an old fly rod. Fish moving up and down the Drain Ditch through the culvert could find a calm-water refuge in the off-stream manhole. We mostly caught carp and had to use a strong line to pull the fish back from fast water in the culvert and lift them up and out of the manhole.
One time when I was fishing alone in the manhole, a lady in a car pulled up to the intersection where she had to briefly stop. I looked up and she glanced at me with a cutesy smile that gave a nonverbal message of “stupid kid”. I got redemption when I hooked a fish just as she started to turn the corner. She gave me a startled double take and bounced two wheels off the side of the road and temporarily lost control of the car (stupid lady).
Another free flowing section of the Drain Ditch was further upstream in the direction towards Valley Junior High and was relatively narrow and fast. In the summer we liked to float it in inner tubes. If those places were still there (which they are not) I would like to go back and see if I could catch a fish. I’m still young enough to handle a fishing rod, but I wouldn’t bother with the inner tube. For me, the word “Montana” has a double meaning. When I think about Granger, “Montana” conjures up meanings, feelings, and memories about a special place I used to go when I was a little kid.