It used to be known as the swimming hole, but a storm broke the tree holding the swing rope last year and there is no way to dive into the middle where there used to be a lot of deep, cold water.
I have seen teenagers laughing and diving into it, couples getting married by it and new members of a Christian church getting baptized in it.
The one thing, though, that I would really like to see is a fly fisher (me) pulling in a huge, wary trout from it.
It is a tough pool to fish. Its surface is mirrow-smooth; if you sneeze, ripples spread over its surface where the fish spook easily. You have to use long, light tippets and tiny flies, for these fish mostly are picky eaters.
I have caught some, but only in the rougher water at the head. Never in the middle, though you can see the trout from the high bank. They sorta mock you.
I have, however, discovered a little secret. I tied on dry fly, with a long, fine tippet about 18 inches around the bend in the hook and fished a itty bitty wet fly at the end. I figured two flies would be better than one on these difficult trout.
It did. I hooked and broke off three and then ran out of time. I was supposed to take Mrs. Koontz into town at 3 for dinner.
So, this Sunday, fish, watch out.