As the year winds down and the temperatures keep dipping lower, I’m sad to say my fishing season has officially come to an end. Some of my buddies are still squeezing in a few more cold-weather trips, but honestly? I’d rather stay warm and dry than risk capsizing and taking another unexpected swim in that icy water. Once was enough for me.
Looking back, though, I can honestly say this has been my best fishing year ever. Part of me wishes I’d kept track of the exact number of fish I caught, but even without a count, I know this season was something special. I’ve caught more bass this year alone than in all the previous years combined. Every trip held its own little thrill, its own memory, its own reason to smile.
Now it’s time to clean the gear, let the rods rest, and start looking forward to those early spring mornings when the water warms, the fish wake up, and the season starts all over again. Until then, I’m holding onto the stories, the quiet moments on the water, and the pride of a truly unforgettable fishing season.
Fishing season for me is quickly coming to an end. What makes it even shorter this year is that my truck is heading into the shop for repairs on the first Monday of November — and it’ll be gone for two or three weeks. That means I’ll have no way of hauling my kayak to the river.
The temperature isn’t doing me any favors either. I have chronic anemia and stay cold all the time. When the temperature drops below seventy degrees, I freeze. So between my truck and the chilly weather, my fishing days are numbered.
Every Saturday morning, I try to attend a one-hour Bible study at a local Methodist church. I hadn’t been for the last three weeks because of craft fairs I participated in, so I was looking forward to seeing some of the friends I’ve made over the years. But I also try to kayak-fish at least once a week — and I was desperate to squeeze in one last trip before the truck goes into the shop.
Yesterday, while waiting at the doctor’s office to have some cancer removed from my left arm, I decided to check the weather forecast and compare it with my schedule. Sunday was out — church and a meeting that afternoon. Here’s how the rest of the week looked:
Monday: Rain in the morning, winds 5–10 mph, temps 60/51
Tuesday: Cloudy, winds 5–10 mph, temps 63/51
Wednesday: Rain 90%, winds 10–15 mph, temps 57/45
Thursday: Mostly cloudy, winds 10–15 mph, temps 57/43
Friday: Mostly sunny, winds 10–15 mph, temps 61/39
Saturday: Partly cloudy, winds 5–10 mph, temps 66/44
If you kayak fish, you know wind speed is everything — your worst enemy on the water. Between the wind and the cold, every day looked rough. Tuesday seemed the best bet, but I had a meeting with my financial advisor that afternoon, and I didn’t want to rush the trip.
So, I made the decision: skip Bible study and hit the creek. The forecast called for a high of 79 by 2 p.m., with a low that morning of 57. Still a little cool for me, but with sunshine, I figured it would warm up nicely.
I met my good friend Rick at 6 a.m. My truck’s temperature gauge read 57 degrees as we pulled out. The creek’s about thirty minutes from my house, and as we got closer, I watched the temperature drop — 54, 50, 47… By the time we reached the boat launch, it was 43 degrees.
Now, I’m wearing shorts, a long-sleeve dry-fit shirt, and a lightweight waterproof jacket. The second I opened the door and stepped outside, I knew I’d made a mistake. But wait — it gets worse.
I unloaded all my gear, parked the truck so Rick could back in, and helped him launch his kayak. Then it was my turn. I positioned mine with the back floating and the front still on land. I straddled the kayak, sat down, and pushed myself into the creek.
My left leg went in fine. On the right side, though, I’ve got a depth finder mounted — something I’ve maneuvered around dozens of times before. But this time, as I tried to swing my right leg in, I felt the kayak start to list heavily to the left.
And over I went.
Cold water, 43 degrees, right at daybreak. I’m sure the fish got a good laugh out of it — I know Rick did.
Rick figured I’d want to pack everything up and go home, but this was my only shot at fishing before the truck went to the shop. Besides, I wasn’t that cold yet. I managed to gather up all my floating gear, climbed back into the kayak (a little more carefully this time), and finally got launched without any more drama.
I fished for about thirty minutes before the shivering started. That’s when I noticed something else — my phone was missing. I knew exactly where it was: sitting at the bottom of the creek in about four feet of water.
As the shivering got worse, Rick talked me into heading back to the launch. I conceded and paddled back to land. Once there, I spotted my phone — right where I thought it was, under four feet of creek water. It had been down there for over thirty minutes.
At first, I figured, “Why bother? It’s not going to work anyway.” But I decided to try. I waded out into the cold water, reached down for the phone… and promptly lost my balance. Down I went — again! The splash muddied up the water so badly I couldn’t even see the phone anymore.
Thankfully, Rick came to the rescue with his paddle and managed to fish it out. I picked it up, dripping wet, and hit the power button. To my surprise, the screen lit right up. The phone still worked!
Kudos to the maker of the phone case — it kept my phone completely dry
So, no fish, two dunks, one lost (and found) phone — and a story I won’t forget anytime soon.
Sometimes, the best days on the water aren’t about the catch. They’re about the laughs, the lessons, and the memories that come when things don’t go exactly as planned.
I know—it’s been a minute since I’ve posted anything. Honestly, I don’t even remember what I wrote about last time, so forgive me if I repeat myself a bit.
My weight loss journey has finally leveled out—or at least I think it has. My original goal was 190 pounds, but I’ve actually surpassed that by almost 20. I weighed in this morning at 174 pounds and have been hovering there for several weeks now. That’s over a hundred pounds lost in total, which is still hard for me to wrap my head around sometimes. I’m pretty happy with where I’m at.
I don’t regret having the surgery one bit—if anything, I just wish I’d been able to do it sooner. That said, there are a few side effects I could do without. I get these hunger pains unlike anything I’ve ever felt before—sharp, deep aches around my stomach area that only fade after I eat. And since they removed my inflamed gallbladder during surgery, well, let’s just say I have to stay close to a restroom after meals. What goes in tends to come out quickly, and sometimes with little to no warning. Sometimes it’s 30 minutes, sometimes hours later—but when the tummy starts to rumble, it’s a do-or-die situation. I’ll let your imagination fill in the rest.
On a more personal note, my old buddy Clyde is still hanging in there. He’ll be 21 in January if he makes it that long. About a month ago, we found out he has a tumor on his liver. We don’t know if it’s cancerous, but because of his age, surgery isn’t an option. All we can do now is keep him comfortable and make sure his final days are filled with love. The vet couldn’t give us a timeframe, so we’re just taking things day by day. It’s tough to think about, and we’re trying to prepare ourselves mentally—but that’s easier said than done.
I’m still getting out on the river for some kayak fishing about once a week. I love it, but those 4 a.m. wake-up calls are brutal. I usually try to be on the water by sunrise to make the most of the day, and I’m typically done around 2 p.m. That’s a long stretch to be sitting in a kayak, but it’s peaceful out there.
As the temperatures drop, though, I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to keep it up. I’m chronically anemic and stay cold most of the time. Anything below 76 degrees is jacket weather for me. In fact, my thermostat is set at 76, and I still wear a jacket indoors most days. I have a trip planned for this Thursday, but the forecast says 43 degrees in the morning. I can bundle up, but once it warms up, I’ll have to stash my jacket somewhere—and space is limited in a kayak. The front compartment is out of reach when I’m seated, so it’s always a bit of a puzzle.
But hey, that’s life. I’ll enjoy it while I can—cold mornings, creaky joints, and all.
I’m also going to try to stay more active on here, share a bit more often, and hopefully regain some of my old followers—and maybe even find a few new ones along the way.
Feel free to ask me anything about my gastric bypass journey, my buddy Clyde, or my fishing trips. I’d love to share what I’ve learned and experienced. And if you’ve gone through weight loss surgery, have a special pet, or just want to chat about your own hobbies, I’d really enjoy hearing about them too.
I love to fish, and with being laid up for over a year, I can’t go fishing enough. I’ve been going at least once a week for the past two months. There have been a couple of weeks that I’ve been twice in one week.
I’ve started trying to film my trips so that I can share my little adventures, but I’ve been having some bad luck with my GoPro. It’s an old one, and I need to purchase another one. On my first trip, the battery died before I caught my first fish.
I hope you enjoy this little video of me catching one of the two fish that were caught on this trip.
Grayfeathersblog 