Tag Archives: Nature

A Fishing Trip Full of Unwanted Surprises

30 Wednesday Sep 2026

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

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Rick and I arrived at the launch before the sun had even decided it was time to get out of bed. It was still dark enough that I had to use my little pin light to load the kayak.

It was around 55 degrees, which is pretty darn cool for me. I know there are people who think 55 degrees is perfect fishing weather, but I’m not one of those people. My problem with wearing a jacket is that I know what’s going to happen. The temperature will eventually climb high enough that I’ll want to take it off, and then I have to find somewhere to store it.

Kayak storage is a precious commodity. There’s only so much room for fishing rods, tackle, food, drinks, and all the other stuff I have convinced myself I absolutely need.

So, I decided to take my jacket off and put it back in my truck. Unfortunately, I had already put my truck keys in my dry bag.

That put a little wrinkle in my plan.

I decided to just put the jacket behind my seat and deal with it later.

Rick wanted to paddle about a mile and a half downstream to what we call the “second waterfall” to start his fishing expedition. It’s one of two spillways that drain from a settling pond created by the coal mining company that owns the land.

I had a different plan.

I wanted to fish on the other side of the bridge near the launch site because I had a brand-new topwater lure I was anxious to try.

As I mentioned in my previous post, I had changed all of my fishing lines to braided line with a five-to-seven-foot fluorocarbon leader. I use a double Uni knot to join the two different lines together.

The double Uni knot works great on a spinning reel because the eyelets on those rods are fairly large. Unfortunately, baitcasting rods have much smaller eyelets, and the knot has a tendency to get hung up when it passes through them.

My new topwater lure was attached to one of my baitcasting reels.

On my very first cast, I noticed the knot hitting the eyelet at the end of the rod. I immediately thought, “This could become a problem.”

Then, on that same first cast, a fish boiled up at the lure but didn’t actually take it.

My heart jumped.

Fish on the first cast? Well, sort of.

I cast back toward the same general area, hoping I could convince the fish to give me another chance. The sound of my lure hitting the water just inches from my kayak told me something had gone terribly wrong.

I knew immediately what had happened.

The reel had backlashed.

And not just a little.

I had created a bird’s nest that probably could have provided shelter for an entire family of birds.

I took the topwater lure off that rod and grabbed another baitcasting combo. I swapped the lure over and made another cast.

When I reeled it in, something didn’t feel right. It was unusually difficult to turn the handle. I made a few adjustments to the drag and cast the lure back out.

Almost immediately, a fish came flying out of the water and grabbed it.

Finally!

I set the hook and started reeling.

Except the more I turned the handle, the harder it became to turn.

Within a couple of seconds, the reel completely stopped working.

Apparently, my fishing equipment had decided it was going to participate in the adventure too.

I laid the rod down in the kayak, grabbed the fishing line with my hands and started pulling the fish in manually.

I could tell it was a good-sized fish because every time it dove toward deeper water, the line dug into my hands.

Eventually, I got the fish close enough to see it.

That’s when I noticed something else.

The lure wasn’t in the fish’s mouth.

It was hooked in the side of the fish just beyond the gills.

I managed to get the fish close enough to lip it, pulled it into the kayak and removed the hook.

The fish weighed nearly three pounds.

I was pretty happy about that.

After releasing the fish, I changed out the broken baitcasting reel for a spare and put the topwater lure on it.

The very next cast, another fish grabbed the lure.

It jumped completely out of the water, apparently just to make sure I knew it had been hooked.

At that point, I was thinking this might turn into one of those days where I caught a multitude of fish.

That didn’t happen.

That was the last fish I caught on the topwater lure.

I ended the day with three fish total—two on the topwater lure and one on a plastic worm.

The wind eventually picked up, making it difficult to keep the kayak in one place. Anyone who has fished from a kayak knows that once the wind gets strong enough, you stop fishing and start operating a very inefficient watercraft.

I fished until nearly 11:00 a.m. and then started making my way back toward the launch.

I arrived around 11:45 and beached the kayak. As I was getting into my truck to start loading everything, I saw Rick paddle his way toward the launch.

He told me he had caught seven or eight fish.

Seven or eight.

I had caught three.

And the really irritating part was that Rick hadn’t spent the morning fighting backlashes, replacing reels, or wrestling with fishing equipment that appeared to be plotting against him.

I was a little jealous, to say the least.

But the excitement wasn’t over.

Not even close.

I use a simple paracord latching system to secure my kayak to my truck. I hook one end to one side of the truck, run the cord through the handle on one side of the kayak, pull it over my fishing rods, run it through the handle on the other side and connect it to the other side of the truck. Then I cinch everything down tight.

I’ve used this system for years and never had a problem.

Until this day.

About halfway home, I heard a loud thump.

I immediately looked in the rearview mirror.

I didn’t see my camera pole.

My first thought was that it had somehow come loose and fallen off the truck.

I pulled over in someone’s yard and jumped out to see what was going on.

That’s when I discovered something slightly more important than my missing camera pole.

My kayak was gone too.

The thump I had heard wasn’t my camera pole hitting the road.

It was my kayak bouncing off the bed of my truck and landing on the pavement.

Apparently, my kayak had decided it had enough of being transported and wanted to see the world on its own.

I jumped back into the truck, looked around to make sure nobody was coming and quickly turned around.

It didn’t take long to find my kayak.

It was partly in the middle of the road and partly in someone’s front yard.

I pulled over across the road, got out and immediately noticed something else.

My fishing rods were nowhere to be found.

They had apparently decided to go on their own adventure too.

I grabbed the kayak, dragged it across the road and managed to get it loaded back onto the truck.

I turned on my emergency flashers and started walking down the road looking for my missing equipment.

Eventually, I found all five of my rods scattered along the side of the road.

I was extremely lucky.

There was no one directly behind me when the kayak decided to disembark.

Had someone been following closely, this story could have ended with me explaining to an insurance company why my kayak decided to attack somebody’s vehicle.

When I got home, I unloaded everything from the kayak so I could turn it over and inspect the damage.

Other than some scuff marks where it had hit the pavement, the kayak actually looked to be in pretty good shape.

Of the five rods that went flying, two sustained some damage to the eyelets. I’ll have to make some adjustments to them before I can use those rods again.

After looking over the tie-down system, I think I figured out what happened.

When I pulled the paracord tight, the knot apparently worked its way through the cam. Once that happened, the rope loosened and the kayak was free to make its great escape.

I’ve made what I hope is a simple correction.

I’ve added a second knot to the line so that if the first knot somehow works its way through the cam again, the second knot will catch it.

At least that’s how it works in theory.

And as I’ve learned from this particular fishing trip, theory and actual fishing don’t always have a lot in common.

I went fishing expecting to catch some fish.

Instead, I caught three fish, broke a reel, created a bird’s nest, damaged two fishing rods and watched my kayak take itself for a ride down the highway.

Rick caught seven or eight fish.

I’m pretty sure he had the better day.

But I did get home with my kayak.

So I guess there’s that.

Trying a New Approach at Fishing

28 Monday Sep 2026

Posted by in Fishing, Kayaking, Life, Uncategorized

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I had a lengthy text conversation with one of my fishing buddies recently. He’s the one who seems to average about 10 fish every time he goes fishing.

I, on the other hand, average around two.

So naturally, I listen very carefully when he starts talking about fishing.

He has told me about a couple of plastic worms that he uses. In fact, he has made some personal modifications to one of them. He’s even told me exactly what he has done and has given me a couple to try.

I’ve caught most of my fish on “his” worm.

That should probably tell you something.

I’ve been fishing since I was a little kid. My dad would take me to my granddad’s pond, where we fished for catfish. Our fishing technique was pretty advanced back then. We put some bait on a hook, attached a bobber to the line, and threw it in the water.

When the bobber went under, I pulled on the line.

And if everything went according to plan, I caught a catfish.

Pretty complicated stuff.

I didn’t start fishing for bass until I was an adult. The company I worked for had an annual fishing tournament on Good Friday, and I was fortunate enough to fish with several different people who had their own boats.

Eventually, I had the opportunity to buy my own boat. I purchased a 16-foot fish-and-ski with a 90-horsepower motor. I kept that boat for several years until the cost of maintaining it started becoming more than I wanted to spend. Eventually, I sold it.

During the years I owned that boat, I probably made 50 or 60 fishing trips.

And I didn’t catch many fish.

Looking back, I’m pretty sure I know why.

I mainly used crankbaits. I never really used plastic worms because I had no idea how to properly fish one.

I remember one of our Good Friday tournaments before I bought my boat. I was fishing with a coworker who actually lived on the lake where the tournament was being held. I watched what he was doing, used the same plastic worm he was using and proceeded to catch absolutely nothing.

He won the tournament.

Apparently, the worm wasn’t the problem.

The idiot holding the fishing rod was.

Fast-forward to 2018.

I drove about six hours to a friend’s house and purchased her kayak. She needed the money, and I needed a kayak. It seemed like a pretty good arrangement.

At first, I only fished occasionally, and I didn’t have much luck catching anything. I was still stuck on a couple of crankbaits simply because I had caught a few fish on them.

Then I was talking to my wife’s cousin’s husband, and he started telling me about some different things I could try. One of them was, you guessed it, a plastic worm.

He told me what he was using and how he was using it.

The next time I went fishing, I caught a fish on a plastic worm.

So, naturally, I did what any intelligent fisherman would do.

I kept using that same worm.

And I caught several more fish.

Unfortunately, toward the end of that fishing season, I broke my foot. For the next 18 months, I spent most of my time sitting in a recliner and wasn’t able to do any fishing.

But once I was able to get back on the water, things started changing.

Last year, it is safe to say that I caught more fish in that one year than I had caught in my entire life. I was getting out at least once a week when the weather permitted, and I started experimenting with different colors and types of plastic worms.

Apparently, the fish didn’t get the memo that I wasn’t supposed to be good at this.

I’ve started keeping a record of how many fish I catch and how much they weigh. I just wish I had started doing that last year.

As of today, I’ve caught 31 bass weighing a total of 38 pounds.

That’s an average of just over 1.2 pounds per fish.

Of course, my fishing buddy would probably look at those numbers and wonder if I’m fishing in a bathtub.

But I’m making progress.

The funny thing is that people, myself included, tend to put way too much emphasis on catching fish.

Don’t get me wrong. I love catching a fish. There is still something pretty exciting about feeling that tug on the line, setting the hook and watching a big bass come to the surface.

And yes, I would love to catch a five-pound bass.

I’d probably tell everybody about it.

I’d probably tell people who don’t even fish about it.

But catching fish isn’t really the reason I go.

The real reason is the solitude.

There is something about sitting in a kayak in the middle of a creek or river with nobody else around for what seems like miles. No traffic. No phone calls. No television. No lawnmowers. Just me, the water and whatever wildlife happens to show up.

Sometimes I catch fish.

Sometimes I don’t.

Sometimes I spend several hours throwing a worm into the same general area and wondering if the fish are laughing at me.

But I’m still out there.

And that’s what matters.

Last night, I spent several hours getting my fishing gear ready. I put new line on my reels and added a five-foot fluorocarbon leader to each one, just like my fishing buddy does.

Now we’ll see if all this new line and fancy leader material actually increases my chances of catching fish.

Of course, there’s still one variable I haven’t been able to replace.

The guy holding the fishing rod.

I guess we’ll see how he does.

What’s in my Kayak

18 Friday Sep 2026

Posted by in Family, Fishing, Kayaking, Life, Nature, Retirement, Uncategorized, Weight Loss

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As I’ve written about so many times, I love to fish.

I have a 12-foot Wilderness Systems kayak that I bought from a dear friend. It has become my little fishing machine, although I’m not sure the fish are nearly as impressed with it as I am.

I found the kayak on Facebook Marketplace when I was looking for one. The only problem was that my friend lived in Knoxville, Tennessee.

Nearly six hours from my house.

Surely, I could have found a kayak closer to home. But my friend was going through a difficult situation. Her husband had taken off and drained her bank account, and she desperately needed the money. I bought the kayak for $700, even though it was worth more than $1,500.

So I made the nearly six-hour drive to Knoxville.

Six hours there. Six hours back.

But I saved over $800.

I’m not sure if that qualifies as a bargain or just an excuse to spend twelve hours in my truck.

The most expensive piece of equipment on my kayak is my Garmin Striker Vivid 7cv fish finder.

Has it helped me catch more fish?

Probably not.

But it does tell me the water temperature, my direction of travel, water depth, sunken structures, and whether there are fish underneath me. It also tells me how fast I’m paddling.

And that’s probably the funniest feature on the entire thing.

I’m pretty sure I could get out and walk faster than I’m paddling.

The fish finder can show me the 37 fish directly underneath my kayak.

What it can’t tell me is why those 37 fish are ignoring everything I throw at them.

I also made myself a fishing crate out of a milk crate. It holds my soft plastics, hooks, weights, and crankbaits. It sits behind me, making everything easy to reach.

It’s even easier to get to now that I’ve lost all my weight.

There was a time when reaching behind me required some planning.

Now I can reach things without wondering if I’m going to flip the kayak.

I carry four rods and reels with me. None of them are what you would call professional equipment. I don’t think I’ve paid more than $100 for any of them.

I have always believed that you can catch just as many fish with a cheap setup as with an expensive one.

Of course, I have absolutely no scientific evidence to support this theory.

It’s just what I tell myself when I’m standing in the fishing aisle looking at a $300 rod.

I’ve spent several hundred dollars on tackle over the last few years. I’m constantly researching what the fish might be biting, looking at new lures and trying to figure out what might work.

I also have a friend who catches a lot more fish than I do, so I pay close attention to what he uses.

There is a lot of truth to the old saying that it’s not the equipment—it’s the person using it.

Unfortunately, I’m beginning to suspect that might be my problem.

But there is one piece of equipment I take with me that is more important than anything else in my kayak, other than my paddle.

My Garmin InReach.

The place where I do most of my fishing has absolutely no cell service. If I run into a problem, I’m on my own unless I have another way to communicate.

There are no houses nearby. No convenient little convenience store where I can walk in and say, “Hey, can I borrow your phone?”

So far, I’ve been lucky and haven’t had any serious problems.

Well, except for the treble hook incident.

I was fishing with my daughter when I managed to get a treble hook lodged into my thumb.

And when I say lodged, I mean lodged.

We were only about a quarter of a mile from the launch, so I had to paddle back, load the kayak into the truck and head to the emergency room to have it removed.

Thank goodness my daughter was with me to help load my truck. I couldn’t have done it without her.

I didn’t have the InReach back then, but fortunately, I didn’t need it.

And just for the record, getting a treble hook stuck in your thumb does not qualify as a true emergency.

It may qualify as an emergency in your own mind, but apparently emergency responders have higher standards.

The Garmin InReach is a satellite communicator. It allows me to send and recieve text messages through satellites to people I have programmed into the device.

More importantly, if I ever have a real emergency, there is an SOS button that I can activate to contact emergency responders.

Hopefully, I will never have to push it.

Because apparently, pushing that little button can get expensive.

Depending on how I need to be rescued, the cost could be more than $20,000.

Twenty.

Thousand.

Dollars.

At that price, I hope the rescue includes a helicopter, a steak dinner and someone carrying my kayak back to the truck.

Fortunately, Garmin offers an insurance option that can cover the cost of a rescue. I believe it costs around $40 a year.

That’s a pretty small price to pay when you consider what a rescue could cost.

The monthly service itself is also relatively inexpensive. I believe I pay around $15 a month and get 10 free messages each month. If my wife responds to one of my messages, it costs about 10 cents per message.

I use the InReach three times on almost every fishing trip.

The first message is sent when I start my trip. I let my wife and kids know that I’m heading out.

The second message comes somewhere around the middle of the trip. Basically, it’s my way of saying, “I’m still alive.”

The third message goes out when I’m finished fishing and loading everything back into the truck.

My wife usually responds to each message so I know she received it.

All together, that’s about 30 cents per fishing trip.

That’s cheaper than most of the lures I lose.

And I lose a lot of lures.

For me, the InReach isn’t really about fishing.

It’s about peace of mind.

If you fish, hike, hunt, kayak, or do anything outdoors where cell service is sparse or nonexistent, I highly recommend having some kind of satellite communication device.

I know my wife worries about me when I go fishing by myself. I also know that she feels better knowing that she will hear from me throughout the trip.

And I feel better knowing that if something really does go wrong, I have a way to call for help.

Hopefully, I’ll never need the SOS button.

I’d much rather continue sending my three little messages, catching a few fish, losing a few lures and occasionally getting a hook stuck in something that isn’t supposed to have a hook in it.

Preferably, that “something” will not be me.

Because as much as I love fishing, I really do like coming home afterward.

Fishing Was a Bad Idea

16 Wednesday Sep 2026

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

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I got up this morning and went fishing.

I’ll have to admit, it probably wasn’t the best decision I’ve made over the last few weeks. As I’m sitting here writing this, I’m completely exhausted.

The wind was horrible. And when I say horrible, I mean horrible. If it weren’t for someone fishing with me, I probably would have called it a day and headed home a whole lot sooner.

Once the wind picks up, fishing from a kayak stops being fun. You spend more time trying to stay in one spot than you do actually fishing. Paddle forward, drift backward. Paddle left, drift right. Before long, you start wondering if you’re actually fishing or just getting a really expensive upper-body workout.

A few weeks ago, I started taking a new CML medication. Within a few days, I was so fatigued and dizzy that I could hardly function. Since that was the only thing that had been added or changed, I naturally blamed the medication and stopped taking it.

After talking with my oncologist, he wanted me to stay off the medication for a couple of days and then start taking it again. I did that, and thankfully, the side effects weren’t nearly as bad the second time around. The fatigue is still there, but the dizziness has pretty much disappeared.

As it turns out, though, the medication may not have been the culprit after all.

My iron levels are extremely low. Low enough that I’m having to get an iron infusion once a week for the next three weeks in an effort to get my levels back up to something resembling normal.

That explains a lot.

It also explains why I’m so completely wiped out after this morning’s fishing trip. Between the low iron and that ridiculous wind, getting back to the launch took a lot longer than I had planned. I had to stop several times along the way just to rest and catch my breath.

Once I finally made it home, I was able to muster up enough energy to unload the truck and put all of my fishing gear away.

And that’s it.

That’s all I’ve got.

I’m done.

In fact, I’m so tired that I’m not even sure I have enough energy to take a nap.

Yes, you read that right. I’m too tired to nap.

I didn’t think that was possible.

Apparently, my body has decided that today is a good day to remind me who’s in charge. And after this morning, I think I’m going to listen.

The kayak can wait.

The fish can wait.

And, thankfully, the wind can wait too.

Right now, I think the best fishing strategy is going to be sitting in my recliner and trying not to move unless absolutely necessary.

Medication: Round Two

04 Friday Sep 2026

Posted by in Cancer, Leukemia, Life, Uncategorized, Weather

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After having a discussion with my oncologist, he wanted me to stay off the meds for a few days before starting them again. So, after being off the medication for those few days, I started back on it last Tuesday night.

The thought was that if any side effects were going to reappear after restarting the medication, they would probably show their ugly faces sometime Thursday or Friday morning. Well, it’s Friday afternoon, and so far, the only side effect I’m feeling is a little fatigue. I can handle that.

I haven’t really felt like doing much other than sitting around and reading, but I finally decided I needed to get up and start moving around.

I’ve started doing some more cleaning in the garage since I haven’t been able to do much out there with everything that’s been going on, including my daughter being in the hospital. I’ve also been trying to get a little yard work done.

Today, after breakfast, I got the hose out, hooked up the sprinkler, and started watering my front yard.

Apparently, Moses is out there somewhere with his arms stretched out, parting the rain and making sure it doesn’t fall on my yard. It’s raining everywhere else, but not here.

After securing the hose to the house and the other end to the sprinkler, I turned the water on. Then I had to sit down for a few minutes and rest up. With the heat we’re experiencing here—100 degrees plus—and the fatigue from the medication, it doesn’t take much to wear me out.

While the sprinkler was doing its thing, I stepped into the garage and started doing some much-needed cleaning. Although it’s a little bit of a “rob Peter to pay Paul” situation, I am making some progress.

I was able to make the path from my basement door to the house door much wider, so you’re a lot less likely to trip and fall. That may not sound like a major accomplishment, but when you’re trying to keep a garage organized, sometimes making a path you can actually walk through feels like a pretty big victory.

Of course, with this heat, even in the garage, it’s hard to do much without having to sit down and rest for a while.

After about three hours of watering the yard, I finally stopped the garage cleaning, turned off the water, and secured the hose.

Even with the heat and the fatigue, I managed to get a few things accomplished today. That feels pretty good.

I didn’t make it to the men’s Bible study last Saturday, so I’m looking forward to the fellowship tomorrow morning—assuming my side effects continue to cooperate.

Anytime you have a different medication introduced into your system, it’s always a good idea to pay attention to what your body is telling you and to be aware of the possible side effects. It’s also important to let your doctor know about anything unusual you’re experiencing.

One thing I learned from a lady who was part of the original clinical trial for one of the medications I was on at one time really stuck with me.

She explained that if, at any time during the study, someone came in with any kind of ailment—a headache, a stomachache, a rash, anything—it went into the report. If enough people came in reporting the same issue, regardless of whether it actually had anything to do with the medication or not, it could eventually become listed as a possible side effect.

That’s one reason it’s so important to pay attention, speak up, and keep your doctor informed.

For now, I’m taking things one day at a time, trying to stay active when I can, and being thankful that the dizziness hasn’t returned. Hopefully, things will continue moving in the right direction.

Maybe My Fishing Days Aren’t Over After All

28 Friday Aug 2026

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

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After my back started giving me issues a few months ago—and especially after dealing with the pain following one of my attempts to go fishing—I had pretty much decided that my fishing days were coming to an end.

I just couldn’t sit in a kayak for more than a couple of hours before my back reminded me I was no longer 25.

Apparently, my back has a better memory than I do.

After spending some time with my therapist, we talked about some possible solutions. One of those was trying a different type of fishing seat that might provide more support for my lower back.

That sounded like a great idea, except for one small problem: finding a seat that would actually fit my kayak.

After more than a month of research, I finally purchased one that I thought would work. I was hoping it would give my back the support it needed and, perhaps, give me a few more fishing hours before my body decided it had enough.

I received the seat about two weeks ago, but between my wife and my doctor’s appointments and my daughter being in the hospital, I hadn’t had a chance to take it out on its maiden voyage.

There was another problem, too.

If I was going to try it out, I needed to go by myself.

Normally, I would invite my fishing buddy to go with me. But I had no idea how long I would actually be able to stay on the water. The last thing I wanted was for him to drive all the way out there, get comfortable, unpack everything, and start fishing, only for me to announce an hour later, “Well, boys and girls, my back has spoken. We’re going home.”

I knew if he went with me, he would want to spend the day on the water. And honestly, I couldn’t promise him that I could make it through the day.

So, I went by myself.

I didn’t leave nearly as early as I would have if my buddy had gone with me. Normally, we’re on the road around 5:30 in the morning. This time, it was nearly 7:00 when I finally hit the road.

I figured if my back was going to ruin my fishing trip, I might as well let it sleep a little later first.

I arrived at the creek around 7:45 and was at my first fishing hole by about 8:30.

I knew almost immediately that the new seat was going to give me more support. The real question was whether it would give me enough support to actually stay out there for a few hours.

I fished for several hours and, while I did start to feel a little fatigued, it was nothing I couldn’t handle. That alone felt like a pretty big victory.

I finally left my fishing spot around 11:30 and made it back to the launch a little after noon.

My back was a little stiff, but that was about it.

And that was a whole lot better than it had been a few weeks earlier.

In fact, I consider the trip a success. I didn’t have to call anybody to come rescue me, I didn’t have to paddle back using only my arms because my back had gone on strike, and I actually got to fish for several hours.

That’s a win in my book.

I also finished my last session of an eight-week round of physical therapy on Monday. The therapy definitely helped, but now I have to wonder: Was I able to stay out fishing longer because of the therapy, because of the new seat, or because of both?

Truth be known, it was probably a combination of the two.

And I’ll take it as a win either way.

Now, before anyone gets excited and thinks I’m going back to spending all day on the water, let me stop you right there.

I’m not.

I’ve learned that I need to listen to what my back is telling me. Ignoring it usually ends with me regretting my life choices somewhere between the kayak and the truck.

So, I’ve decided that 11:30 will be my new fishing curfew.

If my buddy wants to stay longer, that’s perfectly fine.

He can stay.

He can fish until dark if he wants.

He can catch all the fish.

He can even catch the big one that I would have caught if I had stayed.

I’m going home at 11:30.

Because apparently, I’ve reached the age where my fishing buddy isn’t the one who decides when we leave.

My back does.

And believe me, that thing has no problem telling me when it’s time to go.

So maybe my fishing days aren’t over after all.

I just have a new fishing partner.

His name is Lower Back.

He’s not very good company; he complains constantly, and he never helps paddle.

But he always knows when it’s time to go home.

When it’s too hot to do anything.

14 Friday Aug 2026

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

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I have lived here all my life, and you would think by now I would have become accustomed to this heat. Apparently, my body never got the memo. Even with my anemia, it has gotten too warm for me.

Every day this week, I’ve either had a doctor’s appointment, a physical therapy appointment, or I’ve had to drive my wife to one of hers. That means I’ve had to be outside at least twice a day, every day this week, and it has been brutal.

Yesterday, after taking my wife to the doctor, I volunteered my services to help a friend with his two air-conditioning units. I had planned on changing into a lighter shirt before going, but, of course, I forgot. Within just a few minutes, that shirt was soaked with sweat.

There’s nothing quite like standing outside in 100-degree weather wearing a shirt that has decided to become a second skin.

It’s too hot for me to do any yard work, and it’s even too hot for me to work in my garage. There are plenty of things I need to do out there, but when the temperature in the garage feels like it could double as an oven, suddenly those projects don’t seem quite as important.

I’ll get to them eventually.

Or maybe in November.

It’s even too hot to go fishing.

And that’s saying something.

I was reading yesterday about a lady who was giving instructions on how to make bread in your mailbox. In this heat, I can actually see someone trying it. You could probably put the dough in the mailbox in the morning and have a loaf of bread by lunchtime.

I also saw where a meteorologist had taken his cast-iron pan and left it sitting in the sun for about thirty minutes. He was able to fry a couple of eggs in it.

At this point, I’m beginning to wonder why we’re still using stoves.

Just put your skillet on the driveway.

The ambient air temperature at my house this afternoon was 100 degrees, with a heat index of 115 degrees. When you walk outside, the humidity is so thick that it feels as though you’re walking into a brick wall.

They say it’s not the heat, it’s the humidity that will get to you.

I believe it.

At 115 degrees, I don’t think the heat and humidity are working independently anymore. They’ve formed a partnership.

We’re supposed to get a break in this heatwave sometime in the middle of next week. Along with the cooler temperatures will come a few much-welcomed thunderstorms.

I’m looking forward to both.

Maybe I’ll even get back out in the garage.

Then again, if it’s still too hot, there’s always November.

The Never-Ending Battle of the Yard

09 Sunday Aug 2026

Posted by in Life, Nature, Photography, Uncategorized

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I have a love/hate relationship with yardwork.

When we first bought this house back in 1991, we had one of the prettiest yards on the block. The house was brand new—no one had ever lived in it—and the front yard had fresh Bermuda sod. I did my best to keep it looking good. Back then, I actually enjoyed working in the yard.

Then life happened.

After my son was born, I found it increasingly difficult to keep the yard maintained the way it needed to be. Between work, family, and everything else that comes with having kids, the yard slowly moved down the priority list.

So, I hired a lawn care company to come out every other month and spray the yard.

We used that company for several years. During that time, they went through a few changes. They changed their name a couple of times, and unfortunately, the service seemed to change right along with the name.

After about the third name change, I started noticing a strange weed growing right in the middle of my front yard.

Every time they came out, I would point it out.

Spurge

“Can you do something about that?”

Every time, I got essentially the same response.

“We’ll take care of it.”

Well…

They never did.

After about a year of watching this weed continue to grow while the lawn care company continued to promise they would “take care of it,” I finally gave them the boot.

Unfortunately, by then, that little patch of weeds had tripled in size.

A couple of years ago, I finally realized something rather disturbing.

I didn’t have a lawn anymore.

I had a weed yard.

Apparently, the weed had won.

I finally took a picture of it, Googled it, and discovered exactly what kind of weed I was dealing with and, more importantly, how to get rid of it. I found the chemical I needed on Amazon and ordered a bottle.

Last year, I started my campaign to reclaim my yard.

I sprayed.

And sprayed.

And sprayed some more.

I managed to make a pretty good dent in the weed population, but it still had a firm grip on a large portion of my front yard.

This year, I was determined to finish the job.

After several more treatments, I finally managed to put the weeds to rest.

I thought I had finally reached step two in restoring my lawn.

Then I discovered my next enemy.

Moss.

Apparently, the weeds had called in reinforcements.

I had moss growing underneath one of my trees, so once again, I turned to Google. I found out how to get rid of it, treated it a couple of times, and eventually managed to eliminate the moss.

Victory!

Except there was one small problem.

After killing off the weeds and the moss, I was left with several large, dark patches of bare ground in my front yard.

At this point, I was beginning to wonder if I was actually improving the yard or just finding new ways to destroy it.

Fortunately, I have a daughter who is dating the owner of a landscaping company. I talked to him about the proper way to get grass growing in those bare spots.

His solution?

Topsoil.

Simple enough.

So last week, I went to the hardware store and bought four bags of topsoil. Each bag contained one cubic foot.

I knew four bags weren’t going to be enough, but I figured it would at least make a dent.

I was wrong.

Not even close.

A few days later, I went back to the hardware store to get at least six more bags.

They only had four.

So I bought four.

Again, not even close.

By Saturday, I decided I needed to get serious.

I loaded up my trailer and, after Bible study, headed back to the hardware store. This time, I bought twelve bags.

As I was loading them, I remember thinking, “What am I going to do with all this leftover topsoil?”

Apparently, I had nothing to worry about.

After putting down six bags, I realized I was going to need a whole lot more than twelve bags.

At this point, I’ve put down twenty bags—or twenty cubic feet—of topsoil.

And I’m not finished.

I have absolutely no idea how much more I’m going to need.

All I know is that tomorrow morning I’m hooking the trailer back up and heading back to the hardware store for at least twelve more bags.

Because I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow afternoon, I may not have enough time to get all of it spread. But I’m going to give it a shot.

At this point, my front yard has become less of a lawn project and more of a construction project.

I’ve gone from fighting weeds to fighting moss, to moving what feels like an entire truckload of dirt one bag at a time.

And the funny thing is, I started this whole project because I wanted to make my yard look better.

So far, I’ve managed to turn it into a giant dirt patch.

I’m hoping that once I get all this topsoil down and get some grass growing, it will finally start looking like the yard I remember from 1991.

Of course, by the time that happens, I may be too old to care what it looks like.

But at least the weeds will be gone.

One Day at a Time with Mom and Dad

11 Saturday Jul 2026

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Yesterday I got off to a later start than I had planned. I rolled up to my parents’ house a few minutes before 9:00 a.m. My goal had been to get there by 8:00, but I just couldn’t get moving. By the time I had eaten breakfast and made my second round of coffee, I was already running behind.

When I arrived, I didn’t see my parents’ car. Sometimes they park inside the garage, but most of the time it’s sitting just outside.

I unloaded the lawnmower, which takes a few minutes since it’s on a trailer. Once it was off, I moved it onto the driveway to make a few adjustments to the mower deck and ensure it was level.

Normally, by this point, Dad is already outside with me because his driveway alarm lets him know whenever someone pulls up. Since I hadn’t seen either of them, I figured one of them must have had a doctor’s appointment and had forgotten to tell me.

I started the mower and began cutting the grass. About thirty minutes later, I spotted Dad. Evidently, he had been outside the whole time working somewhere in the backyard. He was soaked with sweat. He had been picking up limbs to clear the way so I could mow the yard.

I immediately stopped the mower and told him he had done enough. I made him go inside where it was cool. I stood there and watched until I saw him walk across the deck and into the house. It was simply too hot for him to be outside doing that kind of work.

I mowed for a little over an hour before taking a break. When I went inside, Dad was sitting on the couch. He had changed shirts, but I could still tell he was overheated from being outside. I fussed at him a little for staying out there long enough to get that hot.

My poor mother was sitting on the other side of the room, bent over from the arthritis pain in her neck. She’s been dealing with that pain for several years now, and it just keeps getting worse. Unfortunately, there’s really nothing that can be done. She’s been rubbing Hemp cream on her neck, and it seems to help for a couple of hours, but the pain always returns.

Seeing my elderly parents in this condition always weighs heavily on my heart because I know the day will eventually come when they won’t be with us anymore.

Mom has been living with one kind of pain or another ever since they were involved in that terrible head-on collision back in 2014. She used to stand nearly six feet tall. Today, she’s barely five feet because of scoliosis and arthritis. She’s so hunched over and in so much pain. She refuses to just sit still. She wants to tend to her flowers and keep the house clean, but she’s reached the point where she simply can’t do those things anymore. Most days she ends up sitting in her recliner in the den, wishing she could still do what she once did.

Dad keeps talking about buying a new lawnmower. The truth is, he doesn’t need another mower because he doesn’t need to be cutting the grass anymore. But he refuses to slow down. He’s always got to be working on something. No one can convince him otherwise.

He’s a smart man. There’s a lifetime of knowledge locked away in that brain of his, and every now and then I still have to make a phone call and dig some of that knowledge out. I’ll definitely miss that someday.

After I finished cutting the grass, we were sitting on the back deck when I told him he didn’t need to worry about buying another mower. I told him I’d be more than happy to come up every couple of weeks and cut the grass for him. He seemed to appreciate that… right up until he asked if he could sit on my mower and drive it around to compare it to his old one. Before long, we were right back to talking about buying a new mower.

After everything was finished, Dad and I sat on the back deck talking for several hours before Mom joined us. A cool breeze had started blowing, making it comfortable enough to just sit and enjoy each other’s company.

We talked about life and the choices we’ve made over the years. We talked about my kids and the possibility of grandchildren someday since two of my three children are talking about getting married.

Mom quietly said she hopes she’ll still be around when my children become parents, but she isn’t sure that will happen.

To be honest, I have my doubts too.

But I’m still praying we’re both wrong.

Rolling With the Punches

09 Thursday Jul 2026

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It’s been a few days since my last post, and it’s been a busy few days.

You never realize how much you depend on something until you suddenly don’t have it. Since my wife’s car is still with my daughter, we’re down to just one vehicle. That means choices have to be made, schedules have to be adjusted, and everything takes a little more planning. My daughter is still looking for another car, but she’s waiting on the insurance check before she can buy one.

On top of that, life doesn’t slow down. I’m going to physical therapy for my back twice a week, and my wife has therapy once a week. This coming week I also have two doctor’s appointments, and my wife has an appointment on the very same day. I think we’ve worked out the logistics, but if one appointment runs long, it could throw our whole schedule into chaos.

Today was my second physical therapy appointment. Unfortunately, I had already spent part of yesterday doing yard work, so I was pretty sore before I even walked through the door. After an hour of stretching and exercises, I’m even more sore now. The therapist warned me that I’d probably feel it for a couple of days because we stretched muscles that haven’t been worked like that in a while. My next appointment is Monday morning.

Tomorrow I’ll be heading back to my parents’ house to cut their grass again. I’ve already loaded my mower and weed trimmer onto the trailer. Last week I didn’t have time to do any trimming, so it’s really needed now. The biggest question is how my back is going to handle sitting on the mower for four hours. It may take me longer than usual because I’ll be stopping often to stretch and give my back a break. I’d rather take my time than pay for it later.

Speaking of my mower…

It’s about four years old. After I finished mowing my own yard yesterday, I drove it over to my outdoor hydrant to wash off all the grass clippings. I do that every single time I use it. I think it looks better when it’s clean, and maybe—just maybe—it’ll help it last a little longer.

When I finished spraying it off, I climbed back on, turned the key…and absolutely nothing happened.

For the next hour, I started troubleshooting everything I could think of. Eventually, I convinced myself the starter had gone bad. I began pricing replacement starters and quickly discovered they aren’t cheap. I finally found an aftermarket one that appeared to fit my mower, but something kept nagging at me.

“What if it’s not the starter?”

I’ve been down that road before—buying parts I didn’t actually need. I’d hate to spend the money, wait for the part to arrive, install it, and discover the mower still wouldn’t start.

So I called my dad.

He suggested I try one more thing before ordering a starter. I’m glad I listened.

Earlier in my troubleshooting, I had tried jump-starting the mower with my jump box, thinking the battery might be weak. It still wouldn’t even try to turn over. I checked the battery with my meter, and it showed what appeared to be enough voltage, so I ruled it out. Just to be safe, I put it on the charger while I went inside for lunch.

After lunch, I spent a few hours doing other things around the yard before checking it again.

Surprisingly, the battery voltage had actually dropped even lower than it was before I put it on the charger.

Well, there was my answer.

The starter was fine after all—it was the battery.

That meant another trip to the auto parts store for a new battery. While I’m certainly glad it wasn’t the starter, I still wasn’t thrilled about spending money on a battery that I hadn’t planned on buying.

Sometimes life has a funny way of piling things on all at once. Between juggling one vehicle, therapy appointments, doctor’s visits, back pain, cutting my parents’ grass, and now replacing a mower battery, it has definitely been one of those weeks.

Hopefully next week will be just a little less eventful…but somehow I doubt it.