I am a fisherman!

It is official folks: I am a fisherman.

I have probably fished a grand total of about 6 times in my life (average of about once every 4 years). Most of those times were on the lake at Camp High Rocks where I spent most of my summers growing up. Before last weekend, I had never "gone fishin.'" This past weekend, a buddy of mine invited me to go fly-fishing. I've always thought that would be cool, so we loaded up and headed to beautiful downtown Waynesboro, VA, where you can wade right into the Meachem Creek.

A few things about fly-fishing:

The philosophy of fly-fishing has to do with imitation. You try and imitate the look and behavior of flies and other insects on the surface of the water. It is actually a very sophisticated technique. You swing the rod back and forth in an arc (from 10:00 to 2:00) so that the "fly" is flying around right above the water, and then you let it settle onto the water. Presumable, a trout or bass or some other delicious fish looks up and says, "I need to eat that fly," and then you've got him.

Have you ever been really excited about something, and then out try it and feel like a total idiot, because you don't really know what the heck you are doing? That is me and fishing. I swung my rod (Joe Dewey's spare rod), but I apparently made my "fly" look less like an actual fly and more like a miniature F18 fighter jet making high speed bombing runs. I did not catch any fish. I did, however, break the tip off my friend's rod when I was walking through the trees trying to get to the water, so I definitely accomplished something...

OK, so a couple of days later, Maggie and I headed up to Madison to do dinner with a bunch of her family on the farm. They live in a beautiful spot and there is a pond on the property. Uncle Chug brought a couple of fishing rods and I ended up down by the pond with him and my youngest brother-in law Conner. No fly-fishing this time, just casting out a hook with a wriggling worm on the end into the middle of the pond. I actually caught 2 FISH!! One was about 4 inches long, and I also caught a big one that was about 4 1/2 inches long. Pretty crazy...

At this point, I have fished twice in two days and have now caught a couple of "enormous" fish. I am feeling pretty good about myself and am visualizing a picture of me on the cover of Outdoor Sportsman magazine. I slowly sauntered back to Uncle Chug's tackle box to put my hook back, when my dog--She is having the time of her life running around the farm--galloped up and jumped up at the grass hanging from my fishing hook. The hook caught her right underneath the upper lip and lodged securely in her gums. I freaked out, realizing that now I have fished twice and broke a rod and snared the non-human that I love the most.

I spent the next half-hour trying to wrestle the dog to the ground so I could dry and dislodge the hook, but she was so freaked out, that I couldn't get a hold on it. Eventually, Maggie's mom got a hold of the family vet, and we left (missing dessert :( ! ) to take Sadie for minor emergency surgery. She had to be sedated and the hook cut out. That was the worst part. It was devestating watching my puppy dog unconscious on a table, with blood running out of her mouth from where the vet was trying to get the hook out. Luckily, everyone survived, and I even got to eat Apple pie when we got back to the farm.

It's funny how emotions can change so quickly. After catching a couple of fish I was feeling awesome. There is something for a man about catching a fish where he feels like he is in his right place of dominion over nature. When Sadie got hooked, my feelings did a complete 180. I felt angry and scared and guilty.

So what?

So, get out there and Carpe the Diem!! Get outside and have an adventure. I think I am remembering that I love the outdoors. But, don't forget that, if you are a human like me, you are a complete mess, and you probably won't be able to do anything quite right.