Tag Archives: Fishing

My Hobbies Are Cheaper Than Therapy (Mostly)

05 Thursday Mar 2026

Posted by in Amateur Radio, Cancer, Depression, Fishing, Kayaking, Leukemia, Life, Nature, Uncategorized, Woodworking

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Let’s talk about hobbies.

Hobbies can serve many purposes. AI summarizes them as follows:

  • Provide relaxation and stress relief from daily pressures
  • Foster creativity and self-expression through various activities
  • Enhance skills and knowledge in specific areas of interest
  • Promote social connections and friendships with like-minded individuals
  • Improve mental health and overall well-being through enjoyable pursuits
  • Offer a sense of accomplishment and personal fulfillment

I’ll have to agree with most of these, but a couple stand out more than others for me. The ones that stand out the most are relaxation, creativity, self-expression, and mental health. Most importantly, mental health.

I’ll be the first to admit, and my wife would be the first to agree, that I have way too many hobbies. A short list would include fishing (of course), reading, woodworking, Amateur Radio, camping, and cooking. If I’m being completely honest, the list is probably a little longer than that, but I’ll stop there before my wife reads this and starts counting.

I’m not someone who enjoys just sitting around the house. I have to be doing something. I love the outdoors and enjoy most anything that takes me outside, whether it’s camping or traveling somewhere just for the day. Sitting still for too long makes me feel like something must be broken… or worse, that someone is about to hand me a chore.

I’ve always been good with my hands, and I enjoy making things out of wood or repairing things that need fixing. When I was a kid, I used to get into trouble because I was always taking things apart just to see how they worked. The only problem was that I wasn’t always successful at putting them back together. Apparently, parents don’t appreciate curiosity when it involves their appliances.

On rainy days, I like to curl up with a good book that allows my mind to travel to places I may never be able to visit. Reading also helps take my mind off the stresses of the day.

I know without a shadow of a doubt that people are reading this who have far greater health concerns than I do. But regardless of your health, you may have had a bad day at work, an argument with your spouse, or just received a bill you know you can’t pay. Each of us faces stress in our lives that can be difficult to deal with.

Because of that, each of us needs to find some sort of escape—a place where we can go, even if it’s only for a short time, to gather our thoughts. Sometimes, that time allows us to find a way to deal with the situation at hand. Other times, it helps us realize we need to talk with someone who can help us sort things out.

As an outsider, I can’t tell you what to do. I can only offer suggestions about what works for me.

When I find myself in a situation where I know I’m going to be stressed, I grab my Kindle and start reading. Before I knew it, my mind had drifted away from whatever was bothering me. For example, the wreck I had the other day has been stressing me out more than it probably should. There’s nothing I can do right now but wait for the police report to be submitted. Unfortunately, patience has never been one of my stronger qualities.

But when I picked up my Kindle and started reading, before long my mind was somewhere else entirely—and not thinking about insurance adjusters, body shops, or police reports.

I also have the unfortunate routine of visiting the doctor for lab work or appointments at least three times a month—sometimes more. This week alone, I had three appointments, and the month has just started. At this point, I’m starting to feel like the waiting room staff should just give me my own assigned chair.

Thankfully, I enjoy reading. Last year, I read 45 books, and quite a few of them were finished while waiting for a doctor to call my name. I also read quite a bit before going to bed. It helps me relax and takes away some of the stress from the day.

Another hobby I’ve written about before is fishing. Of course, I enjoy catching fish when I go, but honestly, that’s only part of it. What I enjoy most is the solitude. Being out there gives me time to think without distractions.

Sometimes I’ll paddle out to the middle of the river, set the paddle down, and just listen to the birds and the other sounds of nature. Every once in a while, a fish even cooperates and jumps on the hook just to make the trip look productive.

To me, that’s more relaxing than just about anything else I’ve found.

Most of the time, I come home from a fishing trip in a better mood—whether I catch anything or not. Of course, catching something does make the ride home a little sweeter. It also helps justify all the fishing gear I’ve somehow managed to accumulate over the years.

I guess what this post really boils down to is this:

Find your happy place.

Find a place where you can go—either physically or mentally—to relax and get away from it all. Only you will know where that place is.

Stress has a way of dragging us down, sometimes to a place where it becomes very difficult to climb back out. I’ve been there, and I know what it feels like.

Luckily, I was able to find my place and climb my way back before the stress got to a point where I couldn’t.

And that’s why hobbies matter more than most people realize.

A Car Accident, Too Many Phone Calls, and a Future Son-in-Law

04 Wednesday Mar 2026

Posted by in bariatric-surgery, Boy Scouts, diet, Family, Fishing, Kayaking, Life, Retirement, Twins, Uncategorized, Weight Loss, Woodworking

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Tomorrow is Thursday, and this week has gone from bad to worse.

My 4 a.m. alarm didn’t go off Tuesday morning, which meant I missed my Tuesday Bible study. That may not sound like a big deal to most people, but it is to me. I haven’t missed one since I started going nearly six months ago.

I woke up around 5 a.m. and immediately realized it was too late to rush around and try to make it on time. The real sign that I wasn’t rushing anywhere was that I didn’t even make coffee first thing. Anyone who knows me knows that’s a sure sign something is off.

After getting cleaned up and eating breakfast, I headed out to the shop and started working on some crafts with my laser. I’ve got a craft fair coming up, and every spare minute seems to be dedicated to getting items ready for it. My breakfast appointment wasn’t until 8 a.m., so I had some time to kill.

I met my friend Rick for breakfast, and of course, the first thing he asked was when we were going fishing. I told him “Soon,” but explained that I had some projects I needed to finish before the craft show. I could tell he wasn’t thrilled with that answer.

During breakfast, my phone kept ringing. No fewer than four people called wanting to talk about Scout-related matters. Even though I consider myself no longer involved in Scouts, apparently, the news hasn’t fully spread yet.

Once I got back home, I went right back to working on my crafts. Before long, the phone started ringing again. More Scout calls.

Running a laser in the shop requires attention. It’s essentially a controlled fire, and if you’re not careful, things can go wrong in a hurry. After trying to juggle phone calls and watch the laser at the same time, I finally decided it wasn’t worth the risk. I shut the laser down.

At 1 p.m., I had a dentist’s appointment.

I have a love-hate relationship with my dentist. I’ve been seeing him for over 30 years, and I trust him completely. But that doesn’t mean I enjoy what he does. I absolutely cannot stand the sound of a dental drill.

Thankfully, I haven’t had a cavity in years, but every now and then, he has to replace a filling that he put in decades ago. Yesterday was one of those days.

After leaving the dentist, things took a turn for the worse.

While merging into another lane, I was hit by a car. The driver had been turning left onto the roadway and collided with me. Before the police arrived, he admitted to me that it was his fault. But when the officers got there, his story had changed. Suddenly, he was telling them that I ran into him because I wasn’t paying attention.

There had been a witness who told me he saw the young man hit me. Unfortunately, by the time I tried to get his information, he had already left. Now I’ll have to wait five to seven business days to pick up the police report and see what it says.

Today was my bariatric appointment.

At one point, my lowest weight was 165 pounds. To be honest, I didn’t look very healthy at that weight. I had gotten too thin. People were quietly asking others if I had some sort of serious illness and wasn’t telling anyone.

My scale at home said 185 pounds this morning. I knew the doctor’s office scale would be a little heavier because of shoes and clothes. Sure enough, it read 191. Still, that’s lower than my last reading at the doctor’s office a year ago.

My doctor would like me to get down to about 175 pounds. He thinks that’s my ideal weight. Personally, I’m pretty comfortable where I am now, but I wouldn’t mind getting down to 175. I just don’t want to go much lower than that.

The next couple of days will be catch-up days.

I have projects cut out that still need sanding. Items that are sanded but need painting. And pieces that are painted but still need to be glued together and assembled.

But even with all the chaos this week, there has been a bright moment.

My wife and I had dinner with one of my daughter’s boyfriends. During dinner, he asked us for permission to ask my daughter to marry him.

It felt strange even writing that sentence.

I can hardly believe that soon I may have a married daughter and gain a son-in-law. He’s a good young man, and I truly believe he cares deeply about her. I know she feels the same way about him.

She had been worried that I might not give my permission. But I would never stand in the way of my daughter’s happiness.

That moment was a candle in what had otherwise been a pretty dark and stressful week.

Now I’m hoping the rest of the week goes by quietly and uneventfully.

After all the doctor’s appointments, the phone calls, and a car accident, I think I’ve earned a couple of calm days.

Dutch Ovens, Daughters, and the Coming of Spring

22 Sunday Feb 2026

Posted by in Boy Scouts, Cancer, diet, Family, Fishing, Kayaking, Life, Nature, Photography, Retirement

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In just a few hours, spring will arrive… in 25 days. That may sound like I failed math, but when you’ve spent the winter cold to your bones, you start announcing spring like it’s breaking news.

I cannot wait for consistent 70-degree days. Since being diagnosed with anemia, anything under 75 degrees feels personal. I walk around my house in a zip-up hoodie while the thermostat is set at 72, which apparently is “comfortable” for everyone else. For me, 72 feels like I’m storing meat in a deep freezer. I’m convinced the power company, and I have a mutual understanding: I keep the heat reasonable, and they don’t require a second mortgage.

Spring means I can finally venture outside without dressing in layers like I’m summiting Mount Everest.

It means yard work — and believe me, there’s no shortage of it around here. I actually enjoy yard work. There’s something satisfying about looking at a freshly mowed lawn or trimmed bushes and thinking, “Yes, I did that.” Of course, by next week, it looks like I never touched it, but for those few hours, it’s glorious.

Spring also means camping. I love camping, especially in early spring and fall when the nights are cool enough to sleep well but not so cold that you question every life decision that led you to sleeping on the ground. There’s just something peaceful about waking up to cool air and the smell of coffee brewing outside.

But this summer will feel different.

With my scouting days behind me, camping won’t be automatic anymore. For 25 years, Scouts were built into my calendar. Camping trips, summer camps, weekend outings — it was just part of life. There’s been talk of some of us former leaders getting together for a trip, but so far it’s been more nostalgia than reservations. This will be the first summer in a quarter of a century without Scouts in it. That’s going to take some getting used to.

Of course, there’s always fishing.

I can’t go fishing enough. If I could, I’d go every day of the week. One of my favorite memories happened last year when I took one of my daughters out fishing. We had tried a couple of years before, but that trip ended with a fishing hook buried in my finger and a quick trip to the hospital. The wind shifted, the kayak jerked, and suddenly I was the one being reeled in.

My daughter still blames herself, but it wasn’t her fault. Sometimes the wind just has other plans.

Last year’s trip was redemption. She caught several bass — the first she had ever caught. I was so thankful I was there for it. There’s something special about being present for those moments. You don’t realize at the time how much they’ll mean later.

And speaking of later, she recently announced that she and her boyfriend will be getting engaged. That’s supposed to be a secret, so if you’re reading this, you didn’t hear it from me.

Life changes. Seasons change. Kids grow up. And apparently, future sons-in-law don’t fish. I’m hoping she and I will still carve out a day or two to hit the water together. Some traditions are worth holding onto.

Spring also means outdoor cooking — and that may be what I’m most excited about. Grilling on the BBQ, cooking in my Dutch ovens — I love it. My love for cooking really started when I got involved in Scouts with my son. One of the dads in the troop took the time to teach me the art of Dutch oven cooking. And yes, I call it an art. There’s something about managing coals, timing, and recipes that feels almost sacred.

I always made sure at least one meal a day on a camping trip was cooked in a Dutch oven. If someone said, “I don’t know what to cook,” I’d hand them my trusty Dutch oven cookbook and say, “Well, you’re about to find out.” Most of the time, they did just fine.

Now it’s just my wife and me at home. The only problem is that most Dutch oven recipes feed ten or more people. So unless we’re planning to eat the same meal the next two weeks, I’ve had to make some adjustments. Turns out, retirement requires learning how to cook for two instead of twenty.

But maybe that’s what this season is about — adjusting. Letting go of some routines while holding onto the things that matter. Finding new rhythms. Creating new traditions.

And counting down the days until it’s warm enough for me to take this hoodie off inside my own house.

Twenty-five days and counting.

The Day Febreze Became a Household MVP

17 Tuesday Feb 2026

Posted by in Fishing, Kayaking, Life, Nature, Retirement, Uncategorized, Weather

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Four a.m. came early this morning… but who am I kidding? Four a.m. always comes early. I’m convinced 4 a.m. wakes up feeling productive and personally offended that I don’t.

The only reason I willingly get up at that hour is Bible study. Otherwise, if you see me awake at 4 a.m., something has gone terribly wrong — like I heard a strange noise, or I fell asleep at 7 p.m. and woke up confused and slightly offended.

Like usual, I sat there drinking my coffee while reading my morning devotion. There’s something peaceful about that quiet time… mostly because nobody else is awake to ask me where anything is.

After that, I went over the material for Bible study so I wouldn’t show up sounding like I just crawled out of a cave. Which, honestly, is exactly what my brain feels like at 4 a.m.

Since retirement, there are only two things that get me out of bed early.
Number one: Bible study.
Number two: Fishing.

Fishing and I haven’t spent much time together this year. I’ve only been once since New Year’s. The weather has been acting like it has a personal problem with me. Too cold. Too rainy. Too windy.

This week, the temperature is perfect… but the wind is blowing 10–15 mph with gusts up to 25 mph. Fishing in a kayak in that wind is less “peaceful day on the water” and more “Lord, if You get me back to the boat ramp, I promise to behave better.”

After Bible study, I met my brother-in-law and one of my fishing buddies for breakfast. Naturally, we talked about fishing. Because if fishermen aren’t fishing, we’re talking about fishing… or buying fishing gear… or trying to explain to our wives why we need more fishing gear.

We talked about kayaks and my plan to buy another one once I can raise the money. I refuse to go into debt for a hobby. I like fishing… but not “eat ramen noodles for six months” fishing.

Around 10 a.m., as I was leaving the restaurant, my wife texted me:
“The water is off.”

Not just our water. About 70% of the city.

That’s not a “someone hit a pipe” situation. That’s a “somebody is having a really bad day at work” situation.

I still had errands to run, so a couple of hours later, I made it home. We had a little water pressure, but not much. I immediately filled the bathtub so we’d have water to flush toilets if this thing dragged on.

Let me just say — that was one of the smartest decisions I made all day.

I called the water company.
They said about six hours.

Six hours came and went… still no water.

I called again.
Same report.
Just a new six-hour timeline.

That’s when you know you’ve entered the “Well… this is my life now” phase.

I have to admit, I was slightly entertained reading Facebook comments. Some folks were VERY upset about not being able to flush toilets and how things were getting… aromatic.

When people start describing their house as aromatic, things have gone off the rails.

Ten hours later, the water finally came fully back on.

The whole thing reminded me of visiting my grandparents when I was younger. They didn’t have indoor plumbing. They had an outhouse. If you had to go, you grabbed your courage and made the trip outside to the little wooden shack out back.

And let me tell you… I can still remember that smell. That smell had layers. History. Personality.

Suddenly, our ten-hour water outage didn’t seem quite so bad.

Kayak, Quiet, and Keeping It Together; Out There, I Found Myself Again

11 Wednesday Feb 2026

Posted by in Cancer, Depression, Fishing, Kayaking, Leukemia, Life, Nature, Uncategorized

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My fishing buddy texted me Monday night asking if we were still meeting for breakfast Tuesday morning—a morning ritual we started a few months back. For the second time in two weeks, I had to tell him no because of doctor appointments. I worry that he thinks I’m brushing him off, but honestly, that’s not the case at all.

We’re both at an age—and health status—where we really shouldn’t go fishing alone. He’s 72 and has had five strokes. Thankfully, his health has improved a great deal, and I’m not overly worried about the two of us being out in an area with no cell service for hours on end. I carry a Mini InReach, a satellite communicator that allows me to send and receive text messages via satellite if things go sideways and help is needed. It even has an SOS button. If either of us were to have a medical emergency, pressing that button would send our GPS coordinates to rescuers. It might take a few hours, but help would be on the way.

I’m 62, and if you’ve read any of my posts, you already know I have my own long list of health concerns. Having a partner with you in a place where two-way communication is sketchy isn’t just a good idea—it’s warranted.

But it comes at a cost.

Sometimes, I need to be alone. I enjoy getting out in my kayak, stopping for a while, and just absorbing the sounds of nature. It’s where I have one-on-one time with my God. Rick is always nearby, as he should be, but I no longer feel like I truly get that quiet space. If I slow down to let him get ahead, he stops too, probably just to make sure nothing’s wrong.

When I first started kayak fishing, I went alone. Rick didn’t have a kayak then. Back then, my world felt like it was closing in on me. My cancer numbers were out of control, my kidneys were failing, and dialysis felt like the only road left in front of me. I was depressed, scared, and felt more lost than I ever had in my life.

Being out in the middle of nowhere—surrounded by silence, by peace, by the kind of beauty only God could create—gave me something I couldn’t find anywhere else. It gave me room to breathe. It gave me space to think. It gave me a place where I could be honest about how scared I really was. Sometimes it didn’t fix anything… but sometimes it gave me just enough strength to get through one more day.

I needed that time alone. It wasn’t about fishing. It wasn’t about getting away from people. It was survival. It was the only place where I felt I could truly talk to God and not feel like I had to be strong for anyone else.

This isn’t meant to be a religious post. I don’t use this platform for politics, religion, or controversy. This is simply how I dealt with a situation that felt completely out of my control.

I hope each of us has a place we can go—a place of solitude, reflection, prayer, or even just quiet—where we can catch our breath when life feels too heavy.

And I want to ask something, not as a writer, not as someone posting on social media, but as someone who knows what it feels like to be overwhelmed:

How do you deal with depression?
When you feel like things are getting out of control, how do you hold on?
What helps you get through the days when everything feels heavier than it should?

Because the truth is… someone reading this right now might be barely holding on.
Someone might be smiling on the outside and falling apart on the inside.
Someone might just need to know they’re not the only one fighting that battle.

If you have something that helps you keep going, share it.
You might help someone more than you will ever know.

Spring Teasing in February

08 Sunday Feb 2026

Posted by in Fishing, Kayaking, Life, Nature, Photography, Uncategorized, Weather

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I want to go fishing so bad I can’t stand it.

The weather for this coming week is supposed to be pretty mild. Highs are projected to be in the upper 60s to low 70s, with lows settling into the mid-to-upper 40s and low 50s. It’s not exactly perfect fishing weather, but it’s definitely showing signs of promise — like spring is standing just around the corner, thinking about knocking.

Monday is shaping up to be the warmest day, with highs in the low 70s. Unfortunately, it’s a little too late to start loading up the kayak now, and my gear isn’t quite ready to roll anyway. Tuesday has a similar forecast, but I’ve got a couple of doctor appointments that I can’t exactly reschedule just because the fish might be biting.

Thursday is off the table too, thanks to a couple more appointments. Wednesday and Saturday are both calling for rain, which pretty much leaves Friday as the last real contender for the week.

Friday’s high is only projected to be in the mid-60s — not ideal for me — but honestly, it all comes down to the wind. Anything over about 10 miles per hour is a hard no for kayak fishing. So for now, I’ll just have to wait until later in the week to get a better handle on the wind forecast before I decide if Friday is a “go fishing” day or a “drink coffee and stare at the lake from a distance” day.

Either way, it’s nice to see temperatures starting to creep upward. Even if I don’t make it out this week, it’s a reminder that fishing season isn’t too far away.

February Is Confused… and Honestly, So Am I

05 Thursday Feb 2026

Posted by in Fishing, Kayaking, Life, Retirement, Uncategorized, Weather

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As I’ve posted before, the weather here has been anything but normal for February. Looking at next week’s forecast, it’s supposed to be in the high 60s to low 70s. That is absolutely nuts. Somewhere, winter is filing a missing person report.

Today, I got a call from one of my fishing buddies asking if I wanted to go fishing while it’s warm. Now that is the kind of phone call that usually results in me immediately looking for my tackle box, my lucky fishing hat, and trying to remember which truck door pocket I left sunflower seeds in.

Unfortunately, real life showed up and reminded me I have three appointments next week. Three. In February. During fishing weather. That just feels disrespectful.

But… if I can shuffle things around just right, there is a very real possibility of my wetting a hook or two. At minimum, I can at least drive by the water and stare at it longingly like a kid looking through a toy store window.

Honestly, if February is going to act like April, I feel like it’s my civic duty to at least attempt to catch a fish. I don’t make the rules. I just follow the weather.

And if you see me calling in “temporarily unavailable,” just know I’m conducting important seasonal research… from my kayak.

Happy New Year Everyone!

09 Friday Jan 2026

Posted by in Fishing, Kayaking, Photography

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I’m not sure about the rest of you, but I’m really looking forward to seeing what this new year will bring. Last year was challenging… but if you’ve read any of my posts, you already know when I say that, I mean “I’ve survived worse, and I’m still standing… mostly.”

The weather around here lately has been acting like one of my twin daughters staring at a menu she’s seen a hundred times. Same menu. Same choices. Still no decision. We haven’t seen the sun for any meaningful amount of time since New Year’s. The past couple of days, we’ve been under a heavy fog advisory with a misty rain added in, just in case anyone was feeling too cheerful.

And then there are the temperatures. Not long ago, we had lows in the teens and highs in the forties. Then, suddenly, the last two days decided to identify as spring — mid-seventies during the day and fifties at night. At this point, I don’t dress for the weather anymore. I just step outside and let it emotionally surprise me.

My friend and I decided to take advantage of this identity-crisis weather and go fishing.

I’ll admit, I was a little apprehensive. After my accidental plunge a few months back, my brain now treats water like it’s part of a criminal organization. Sure, the air was in the 70s, but the water temperature was still in the low 50s. Just imagine taking a dip in fifty-degree water. That’s not swimming — that’s a full-body system reboot.

We got to the creek around 8 a.m., and I didn’t catch my first fish until a little after 1. For five solid hours, I was throwing a lure another friend swears by. He told me he caught six fish on it last week. By noon, I was starting to think he either lied… or I’m not his favorite person. So I switched back to my old, reliable lure and, shockingly, the fish remembered who I was.

I hooked four fish and managed to get two of them into the kayak. Both were good ones, though. One was just under two pounds, and the other nearly three. Not bad, considering the fish and I had both been ignoring each other most of the day.

The last few times I’ve gone fishing, the wind has been absolutely brutal. And remember — I’m in a kayak. Wind in a kayak isn’t weather. It’s an unpaid CrossFit class. Yesterday, though, the wind never showed up. From about 8 a.m. until nearly 5 p.m., it was calm, quiet, and surprisingly peaceful.

No sun. No wind. A couple of decent fish. And I stayed in the boat the whole time.

I’m calling that a win.

I really hope and pray that everyone has a blessed year.

Closing Out My Best Fishing Year

08 Monday Dec 2025

Posted by in Fishing, Kayaking, Nature

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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.

The One That Got Me (Not the Fish)

25 Saturday Oct 2025

Posted by in Fishing, Kayaking, Uncategorized

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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.