Unforeseen

Now you see me, now you don't.  Well, it is true, I haven't been around these blog parts for awhile.  So, here is a recap of the last month or so... It's been a busy one.

I found myself in Tennessee, at a family reunion.  It was a great time.  We flew the family to Eastern TN.   I happened to make arrangements to fish with an FB friend while I was in the area and learned how to watch the clock with rivers on the generator release program!  So, in the water at 7 and out by 1.  But, we found some wild trout and had a good time.

Yes, I fished where Brad Pitt has supposedly walked.  No sitings.

Oh look!  My youngest came back home...

Goodbye Tennessee, till next time!

Then, it was back home to fish the local waters...

And then a quick trip to Wyoming to catch some gorgeous browns.

And this critter...  My first Kokanee salmon...

And this is where I will throw in a "Tippet" on a Monday...

I learned a very valuable lesson while on this little salmon adventure.  It is to never cross the line when approaching the "unforeseen".  The rivers and streams present different situations for anglers each time out.  It's rarely the same outing that you have had before.  Conditions change, water levels change, hatches change, fish's hunger pangs change!  I have learned a lot about reading water in my five or six years.  But, this trip taught me that I am so far away from being an expert of the water.  For what I saw in a slow moving current was a stronger under toe than I ever expected!  Two fishermen told me that I could cross right there... Well, they left and I looked out and it looked calm enough.  I got half way across and it got a bit deeper.  As I moved upstream against the current, something just didn't feel right.  I tried to turn around to go back and I couldn't.  I was trapped.  The current all of a sudden put more pressure against my legs than I could hold up against.  My walking stick was no use to me.  I turned my head again to see a fisherman behind me and I yelled at him asking for help.  He tried to go halfway into the river and stopped.  He kept telling me to walk as much upstream at an angle as I could.  He couldn't get any closer to me without himself getting into trouble to.  I said a silent prayer... a very quick one.  Something like, "Lord I don't want to go yet!"  So, now I looked downstream and saw my buddy that I had traveled with that day.  He saw my predicament and started to push his way upstream towards me through the strong current.  It seemed like I was in that spot for 20 min. while he moved slowly towards me through the current.   He finally made it up to where I was.  He told me that he was going to move above me to break the pressure of  the current, so I could start walking again.  We now had to keep going to the opposite bank.  We were almost there.  Another step, another deep breath.  I have never had more determination to accomplish something... I had to make it!  This guy pretty much risked his safety for me and we were both pushing forward with all the adrenalin that we had!  The water finally seemed calm.  The worst was over.  My feet were now in shallow water and I was coming out of it.  I sat down and thanked God and thanked my friend for the sheer courage that he had.  Maybe it was because of his training in being a firefighter.  But, I think it was more in who he was...  Thank you again, Cody.  I wouldn't have been able to stand there for another half hour without my legs deciding to take a swim downstream.  And that would have been NO BUENO for a big, wide river like this one...  

Moral to this story...  Don't cross the line of comfort in the first place.  It may be too late to change direction when you step too far.  (Hey, this goes for a lot of things in life)   Look for riffled, low water to cross in or very still water that isn't moving.  And having a crossing buddy is always a good thing.

After I rested my legs and nerves, the other side produced some sweet browns and I found this funny guy in the mix...

It was now time to go home and give a big squeeze to a few of those who matter most.