smallmouth bass fishing – Page 15

Don’t Ever Tell Me I Can’t Do Something..

It’s April 1998 and I’m rapidly losing my ability to walk. Sciatica is killing me…pain in my back is excruciating. I was 27 years old and had recently passed my 6 months probationary period at a new job. I was left with 2 choices…put a gun to my head or go see a doctor.

The X-ray and MRI showed my back was broken in two places. I was involved in a head-on car wreck 2 years earlier, Valentines Day 1996. I just didn’t know it.

The damage was so bad that my Orthopedic surgeon pulled out his flip phone and called my insurance company direct. Surgery was the ONLY option. I remember him putting his hand over the phone and asking me if I needed time to think about it or if I was OK with surgery. This was a Wednesday. I said I was fine with the surgery (desperate for relief). I was on the operating table that Friday morning.

It was a 7 and a half hour surgery, everything a Neurosurgeon and Orthopedic surgeon could do to a lower back…they did! It took 29 staples to close up that 7.5 inch incision, the end result being that it looked like a zipper! I was classified as a 1 percenter. After I had healed from the initial surgery, the doctors said there wasn’t much in the way of physical therapy for it. They started listing off things I’d never be able to do again.

At moments like that a person has 2 choices…go with the flow or swim upstream. I mentally started swimming for the “spawning grounds!” If you’ve ever seen salmon trying to surmount a waterfall, you’ll understand. That’s what it seems like…an insurmountable obstacle. I started pushing myself HARD.

One year after the operation and I was back to playing soccer, rock climbing, backpacking and fishing. I was able to portage my beloved canoe again deep in the Wilderness (and a good fishing buddy put a handicap sticker on my canoe…lol). Six lag bolts and two rods gave me my life back. Where there’s a will there’s a way! Never tell me I’m done!!! I’ll tell YOU when I’m finished.

23 years later and I’m still going….

I Thought I Wanted to be a Fishing Guide

After my first fishing trip up North, I thought I “might” want to be a fishing guide. In my mind it was my dream job. On several occasions throughout the years I have been offered guiding positions with several outfitters. Believe me, it was tempting. I truly felt honored by their offers, but the timing was never right.

But the “timing issue” was a cop out. In reality, I just couldn’t stomach being around people who truly didn’t belong there, in what I considered God’s Country. They belonged in a National Park setting or KOA…not deep Wilderness. Ask anyone who has fished with me a full day and they’ll tell you that I don’t say much. I don’t suffer fools very well either. If you talk the talk then you’d better walk the walk.

I’ve seen a grown man throw a hissy fit because they didn’t have enough milk for their cereal. Nevermind that we’re 60 miles from anywhere. I’ve seen grown men sit in a chair for a week reading the same Wall Street Journal and drinking themselves into oblivion when they professed to be hardcore fisherman.

In 25+ trips up North, I’ve had the pleasure to fish with four REAL fishermen(women). They fished hard, all day long. They didn’t complain, they did what needed to be done and we had great days on the water. We bonded around the evening campfire by reliving the day’s events. Those folks passed muster! And to be clear, I made it known to any and all that went with us what was expected of them and what the conditions were like. Zero Lodges, Zero Room Service. Everyone had a job to do.

Our trips were Spartan affairs. We roughed it and earned every fish we caught. We portaged and paddled everywhere we went as if we had to pay our dues and show respect to the Fishing Gods. Those three gentleman and one lady earned my respect and gratitude. They earned every bit of those adventures. (In fact, I married that lady!)

So it boils down to people skills! I’m a loner by nature and changing diapers and wiping noses isn’t something I’m willing to do for an adult. Not happening. My initial thoughts of becoming a Fishing Guide were doomed to failure from the start. I’m just not Guide material. And realizing that was a good thing. And I’m sure it was a good thing for everyone else to. My passion for fishing is still intact and never became a job I hated.

My River/Stream Essentials

Anytime I find myself on my local rivers or streams fishing, you will find these items on my person.

A homemade pouch that holds my plastic baits and jig heads.
A Sawyer Squeeze water filter. It allows me to drink from the river without having to carry extra water bottles which add a lot of weight.
A spool of Seaguar 6lb fluorocarbon leader material.
Loon mitten clamp hemo-cuts.
A Victorinox Alox Solo pocket knife.
A mini Bic lighter.
Abel nippers..
A ziplock bag containing a small chamois for cleaning my eyeglasses and sunglasses.