Tag Archives: kayak

Hidden in Plain Sight

19 Sunday Apr 2026

Posted by in Fishing, Kayaking, Life, Uncategorized

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The mind can play some terrible tricks on you.

Sometimes it convinces you that you saw something that wasn’t there. Other times, you can look straight at something—multiple times—and somehow never actually see it. I can’t explain it, but I’ve experienced it enough to know it’s real.

The other day, I wrote about my wife and I panic cleaning the house. In the process, I moved several things to what I thought were “safe places.” You know the kind—those spots that make perfect sense at the time but completely betray you later.

One of those items was a set of red flags I bought for the back of my kayak. They’re there to warn drivers that I’ve got a load sticking way out past the truck bed. Bright red. Hard to miss… or so you’d think.

Well, those flags disappeared.

I tore this house apart looking for them. I knew exactly where I put them. I knew the room. I knew the box. I checked that box more times than I can count. Opened it, moved things around, looked carefully… and every single time, nothing.

Gone.

Now, I’ve been down this road before. When I can’t find something after a while, I usually just give up and buy another one. That’s the reason I own more tape measures than any one man should. Same goes for hammers. I’m pretty sure I’ve got at least 15 scattered throughout this house.

At any given moment, I can find four of each.
At other times… not a single one.

It never fails.

So while packing for my fishing trip, I gave up on the flags and moved on. I grabbed my Nikon camera, put a fresh battery in it, set the time and date, and placed it in a Ziploc bag along with a notepad and pen so I could keep everything together.

Or so I thought.

Because when I got to the river… the bag and the camera were nowhere to be found.

Now I’m standing there wondering how something can vanish between my house and my truck. Later on, I start searching again—this time for the camera.

And guess what I found?

The flags.

Right there.
In the same box.
In the same room.
In the exact spot I knew I had already searched.

I didn’t just glance in that box—I looked in it. More than once. And somehow, I never saw them.

But the moment I stopped looking for them… there they were.

At this point, I’ve just accepted it. There’s no explaining it. The mind sees what it wants to see—and sometimes, it refuses to see what’s right in front of it.

So tomorrow, I’ve got a plan.

I’m going to look for something else entirely. Maybe a missing tape measure or one of those fifteen hammers. And if history repeats itself, I’ll stumble across that camera and Ziploc bag like it’s been sitting there the whole time… just waiting for me to notice it.

Because apparently, that’s how this works now.

Three Fish, No Paddle, and a Power Line… What Could Go Wrong?

17 Friday Apr 2026

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

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I survived the day on the river.
Well… define survived.

I caught three fish—two bass and one respectable catfish. Now, before you start picturing a highlight reel, let me bring you back to reality. One bass weighed a solid 0.84 pounds… which I’m pretty sure still qualifies as “aspiring fish.” The other came in at 1.61 pounds, which officially made it the “big one” of the day.

Not exactly bragging rights, but hey—it beats going home empty-handed and lying about the one that got away.

It was a long day on the water with not much to show for it, but honestly, that wasn’t really the point. Sometimes you just need to get out there, clear your head, and enjoy the quiet… even if the fish aren’t cooperating.

Now, my back?
My back has a completely different opinion about how enjoyable that day was.

This morning, it feels like I tried to wrestle a gator instead of fish for bass. I’ve been eyeballing a muscle relaxer like it’s the answer to all my problems, but if I take it, I might as well cancel the rest of the day—and I’ve got a craft fair to prep for. So for now, I’m choosing pain and responsibility over relief and a nap. Questionable decision.

My fishing partner had a better day—at least numbers-wise. He caught six fish: two panfish and four bass. Of course, he forgot his scale… again. At this point, I’m starting to think it’s intentional.

And the pictures? Let’s just say if blurry fish photos were a sport, he’d be sponsored. Half the pictures cut the fish off, and the other half look like they were taken during an earthquake.

But the real adventure didn’t start until we tried to leave.

I got back to the launch first and was greeted by a couple of contractors from Alabama Power. They had seen me pull up and came over to talk. Between the language barrier and a lot of hand gestures, I gathered they were stringing a new power line right where I was and wanted me to move.

I explained I was waiting on my buddy… who, by the way, had forgotten his paddle.

Now, before you panic, he’s got a pedal kayak, so getting around wasn’t the issue. Getting out of the water, however, would require a little teamwork—and preferably someone who actually had a paddle.

The contractors weren’t thrilled, but they had little choice but to wait.

When my buddy finally showed up, I filled him in. We got him out of the water and were told it would be about a 20-minute delay.

Forty-five minutes later, it became clear that “20 minutes” was more of a suggestion than a timeline.

So we did what any tired, slightly irritated fishermen would do—we handled it ourselves and loaded up anyway. I noticed the line they were stringing didn’t even have power running through it yet, which made the whole situation even more confusing. But at that point, we were done asking questions.

We loaded up and hit the road.

And immediately got stuck behind a slow-moving truck hauling what looked like half a construction site.

What should have been a 45-minute drive home turned into an hour and a half. Because apparently, the universe decided the day just wasn’t quite long enough yet.

Now here I am the next morning, back aching, truck still needing to be unloaded and reloaded for the craft fair, and wondering why all my hobbies seem to come with a recovery period.

Yesterday had its share of hiccups, but it was our first trip of the regular season. Gear was misplaced, things were forgotten, and clearly, we’re a little rusty.

But now that we’ve got the first trip out of the way, everything should be back where it belongs.

At least… that’s the plan.

And next time, we might even remember the paddle.

The 4AM Gamble: What Did I Forget This Time?

15 Wednesday Apr 2026

Posted by in Arts and Crafts, Fishing, Kayaking, Photography, Retirement, Uncategorized

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The long-awaited day finally arrives tomorrow.

At 4:00 a.m., my alarm will go off, signaling the start of a long—but hopefully rewarding—day. I’ll roll out of bed, grab some breakfast, and head out to meet my fishing buddy at his place by 5:30.

But before I ever get to the water, today was about preparation.

After spending hours out in the heat working on crafts, I came home and shifted gears—loading up the kayak, rods, and every piece of electronics I’ll need. I made sure batteries were fresh, gear was in place, and all safety equipment was accounted for. Or at least… most of it.

Ever since the great Easter weekend cleanup (or “panic clean,” if we’re being honest), there are still a few things that seem to have vanished into thin air. I had a feeling that once I started moving everything around, I’d forget where I put something important.

I was right.

A few weeks ago, I bought some proper red safety flags for the back of my kayak—bright, reflective, and actually visible. In Alabama, anything over 12 feet is supposed to have a red flag attached, and my old solution—a once-red rag—is now so faded it looks more like a tired brown surrender flag than anything useful.

And of course… I can’t find the new ones.

I know how this story ends. I’ll stumble across them one day while I’m tearing the house apart looking for something else I can’t find. That’s just how it works.

But missing flags or not, I’m determined to make the most of tomorrow. A good day on the water doesn’t come from perfect preparation—it comes from being there.

Somewhere in between all of that, I’ve also got a craft fair coming up Saturday. Today, despite the heat, I managed to put together a couple of new trial pieces—a rustic serving tray and a small hanging planter. I didn’t go all in on them just yet. No sense in making a dozen of something if nobody wants one.

But if they sell? I’ll be making more.

There’s something satisfying about working with your hands—whether it’s shaping wood into something useful or casting a line and waiting on that tug. Different kind of work, same kind of reward.

Tomorrow, I’m hoping for both.

Gone Fishin’… Mentally. Physically at the Doctor’s Office

01 Wednesday Apr 2026

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

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Have you ever hit one of those stretches where you really want to do something—but life just keeps stacking the deck against you?

That’s me right now… and fishing.

The weather—well, the temperature at least—has been absolutely perfect. The kind of weather that makes you start mentally packing your gear before you even finish your morning coffee. I’ve been itching to get the kayak in the water.

But of course… It’s never that simple.

First, there’s the wind.

For the last ten days, the wind has been doing everything except cooperating. Now, sure, you can go kayak fishing in the wind… if you enjoy turning your peaceful fishing trip into a CrossFit session. Unless you’re on the water at daybreak, you’ve got a very small window before the breeze turns into a personal trainer yelling, “Paddle harder!”

Nothing quite like trying to hold your spot while questioning your life choices.

But honestly, the wind isn’t even the biggest problem.

Even if the water was as smooth as glass, my schedule has been anything but.

I’ve had something going on nearly every day—mostly doctor appointments. And just when I think I’ve finally got a free day lined up, my phone rings with, “Hey, just a reminder…” At this point, I’m convinced my calendar is just a suggestion, not a plan.

Case in point—I went to the doctor the other day about my back. For years, I thought it was just normal wear and tear… turns out my back has apparently been keeping secrets. Not the fun kind either.

So I finally spot a window. Tomorrow morning? Perfect fishing opportunity. The wind isn’t supposed to pick up until around noon. I’m already picturing that first cast.

Then the phone rings.

It’s the doctor’s office.

“Your MRI is scheduled for tomorrow.”

Of course it is.

So instead of being out on the water trying to catch fish, I’ll be lying perfectly still inside a giant tube while it takes pictures of all the bad decisions I’ve made with my back over the years. Honestly, if that machine could talk, it’d probably just shake its head and say, “Yeah… you probably shouldn’t be kayak fishing either.”

At this point, I’m not even sure what’s more out of alignment—my schedule or my spine.

Looking ahead to next week, it’s the classic tease. The temperature is supposed to drop again early in the week, then warm back up later. But it’s too far out to know what the wind’s going to do… and at this point, I’m convinced it’s working with my doctor.

One of these days, everything is going to line up—the weather, the wind, my schedule… and hopefully my back.

And when it does, those fish better be ready.

Because I’ve got ten days’ worth of missed fishing—and a medically questionable spine—ready to hit the water.

Two Days, Three Thousand People, and One Slight Inventory Problem

23 Monday Mar 2026

Posted by in Family, Fishing, Kayaking, Life, Nature, Retirement, Uncategorized, University of Alabama, Weather, Woodworking

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I’ve been a little MIA the last few days, and I’d like to say it’s because I was off on some relaxing retreat.

It was not.

I’ve been at Trade Days.

For two straight days, I stood on my feet greeting people, answering questions, and handing out business cards like I was running for public office. By the end of it, I’m pretty sure I introduced myself more times than a guy on the first night of a reality dating show.

The good news? I met a lot of great people and sold a solid chunk of my inventory.

The bad news? I also proved—beyond a shadow of a doubt—that I did not bring nearly enough stuff.

The Land of “Everything You Never Knew You Needed”

Setting up for Trade Days

Trade Days is an experience.

Imagine a place where you can buy a handcrafted porch swing, a fishing rod, homemade jelly, a birdhouse nicer than your first apartment, and a box of random items that may or may not have come from someone’s attic… all within 50 feet.

That’s Trade Days.

And the crowd? Huge.

I heard multiple people say it took them nearly two hours just to get from the entrance to the field after paying. At that point, you’re not attending an event—you’re on a pilgrimage.

I’d estimate at least 3,000 people came through our section, which explains why I talked so much my voice started negotiating a resignation.

My Two Tables of Confidence

I was fortunate enough to set up with another vendor who sells 3D printed items.

This guy came prepared.

He had six tables. Six. Full. Tables.

Not “we’ll spread things out and make it look nice” full. I mean, packed.

Meanwhile, I rolled in with enough product to confidently fill… two tables.

And just to make things more interesting, those two tables?

They were his.

So not only did he bring enough inventory to run a small retail operation, but I also managed to squat on part of his setup like an uninvited houseguest.

To his credit, he was incredibly gracious. To my credit… I now know I need to make a lot more stuff.

Doing the Math (and Slightly Panicking)

His spot—a 15-foot by 120-foot space with water and electricity—cost $90.

Honestly, after seeing the crowd, that might be one of the better deals out there.

I had several people ask if I’d be back next month, which felt great… until I remembered I already have another show booked that same day.

Also, a small detail—I’d need more inventory, another tent, and a couple more tables.

So yeah, minor logistics.

Mom and daughter having fun in the water

Pre-Show Fishing (a.k.a. Humbling Myself in Nature)

Before all this, I took a day off and went kayaking with my wife and one of my daughters, who was on spring break.

Now, I’d love to say this was purely about family time.

But I also brought my fishing gear.

Because I have priorities.

While they paddled around enjoying the peaceful scenery, I was off to the side doing what I would describe as “aggressively attempting to catch fish.”

I had several bites… or what I think were bites… or possibly just fish laughing at me underwater.

I did hook one decent fish—briefly—until it wrapped my line around some branches and escaped like it had somewhere important to be.

I managed to land one fish, weighing in at a solid ¾ of a pound.

Naturally, this did not impress my audience.

Mission Accomplished Anyway

The real goal of the trip was to get my daughter out kayaking for the first time.

Later that day, she showed me her sunburned legs like a badge of honor and said she had a great time and wants to go again.

So despite my fishing performance, I’m calling that a win.

The Waiting Game

Now I’ve got the fishing bug again.

Unfortunately, my truck is currently in the shop, which means my fishing plans are on hold for about a week. Probably for the best—it gives the fish time to regroup and rebuild their confidence.

Once I’m back on the road, I’m hoping to fish at least once a week… assuming the weather cooperates.

Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this:

There is nothing quite like making the perfect cast…

…only to have the wind pick it up and deposit your lure directly into a tree like it was the plan all along.

Mother Nature has a sense of humor.

And apparently, I’m part of the joke.

In the meantime, it’s back to the shop—cranking out more inventory and trying to make sure next time I show up with more than “two tables of optimism.”

Craft Fairs, Kayaks, and Unexpected Discounts

13 Friday Mar 2026

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It’s been a busy week, and I’ve finally been able to relax for a little bit. Tomorrow I’ve got a craft fair, and I’ve been working feverishly trying to finish several projects that I’ll be selling.

Back in November, I sold nearly everything I had at my last craft fair, which was great… except for the fact that I’ve been procrastinating ever since. The main reason? My workshop is in the garage, and my garage has been roughly the same temperature as a commercial freezer lately. There’s something about stepping into a cold garage and standing there for hours that makes procrastination seem like a perfectly reasonable life choice.

This will be my second year attending this particular craft event. I actually know the sister of the lady organizing it. Their organization is trying to raise funds to put lights on a Little League baseball field so kids can play at night, which is a pretty great cause.

Last year was their first year holding the event. Attendance was a little light, and I didn’t sell much. This year I’m hoping for a better turnout—especially since I actually have to pay a vendor fee.

Truth be told, the main reason I’m attending is that I went to high school with the organizer’s sister. So really, I’m treating it more like a charitable event. If I sell a lot, that’s great. If not, at least it’s supporting a good cause.

There are two more craft shows in the area that I might sign up for, depending on how tomorrow goes. If I sell a lot, I may skip them because my inventory will be pretty limited. As it stands, I’ve pretty much used up most of the materials I had on hand.

My next big event is on the 11th of next month, and I’ve been told there will be over 150 vendors selling their arts and crafts. That will likely be one of the largest craft fairs I’ll attend all year. I plan to take a couple of days off from making crafts once tomorrow’s event is over, but once my supplies come in, I’ll be back out in the garage working like a one-man production factory.

Next week should be interesting as well. One of my daughters is on Spring Break. She works for a large university and follows the same schedule as the students. Her big idea for the week is to go kayaking.

The only problem is that the places around here that offer river tours aren’t open yet. Most of them don’t start until after Easter or sometime in May.

So my wife and I decided to improvise.

We ordered a kayak from Walmart so the three of us could go kayaking at one of the places where I normally go fishing. I went to pick it up, and they brought the kayak out… but no paddle.

When I asked about it, the associate told me the paddle wasn’t included.

Now I’m not one to argue, but I had a pretty strong feeling that a kayak without a paddle is basically just a brightly colored floating chair. So I pulled up the online ad on my phone.

Not only did it clearly say the kayak came with a paddle, but it also showed that the price had dropped to $32, which was a bit shocking considering I had paid $200 the day before.

When I showed the associate, the first response was that it must be a misprint. After a short conversation with the manager, two things happened.

First, they found me a paddle.

Second, they refunded me the difference in price.

So not only did I leave with a kayak and a paddle, but I also left with a pretty substantial refund that I was not expecting when I walked into the store.

Next week, when we head out to the creek, my wife and daughter will be paddling around, enjoying the scenery. Meanwhile, I’ll be doing what I normally do when I’m near water—doing a little fishing and hoping I might catch a fish or two.

If I’m lucky, I’ll catch something.

If not, at least I’ll still have the story about the $200 kayak that turned into a $32 kayak with a free paddle.

And honestly, that might be the biggest catch of the week.

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.

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.