The few, the proud...

Lake Tugalo, SC border

This post is a little deviation of the usual outdoors musings and thoughts. It's actually work related. Though there are many times when I'm outdoors enjoying myself when work calls and I have to answer. So it goes when one is a responsible human being.

All in all, this is a shout out of gratitude and appreciation to an individual who saw something in me and gave me a chance. Even when I wasn't sure that I was up to the task. I've always been the sort to seek out the approval of my elders and their wisdom as well. Who knew that I would get both from this man and then some.

He trained me for my current job and did his best to guide me in the correct direction while instilling in me values and ethics that are needed for the job. To this day he stresses that he's there for me even though I've been doing the job on my own for 3 years now. One of the things that stands out during that time of training and even to this day is the fact that he had a way of correcting me and also affirming when I was going in the right direction.

When I was screwing up he would refer to me as junior. For example, if I messed up something he'd say, "Junior, you f'd up!" He'd then laugh and correct me. He taught me hard and fast that it was ok to admit one's mistakes. Hell, there were a few times that he had me in tears.
When I did things that were good, he would say something along the lines of, "You did good there, son." It took me a while to catch on to his method. But once I did, I did my best to be sure the times he referred to me as "son" outnumbered the times he called me "junior."

Well today I called him up to update him on a couple of certifications that I have passed this past six months. I can't express the "feels" I got when he said, "I'm proud of you, son!"
I quickly acknowledge the fact that it's all because of him and his investing in my future that I am where I am today. And as a 44 year old man, I'm not ashamed to admit that.

I strive to pass ideals and ethics like that down to those who are younger than me. I don't always call them "sons or daughters", but I hope my actions convey that to them. It would be selfish and unwise for me not to do so.

Ours

Through the years I've been had many opportunities to introduce many young men to the great outdoors. There's nothing like watching a young soul experience their first mountain top sunrise/sunset. Seeing that excited grin when they catch and release their first fish. Observing the realization that they too will have the chance to pass these experiences on down to other young men for generations to come. This world is not ours to take advantage of and then toss away. It is ours to share, manage and protect. 'Mine' is a word that should never come up in conversation about our natural resources. I prefer 'Ours'.

Through the years there have been a few times where I have come across a young man who has shown me new insights about the great outdoors. As an old fart, I take comfort knowing that there are other men who have taken the time to introduce young men to this remarkable world. I never thought I'd do this, but this post is sort of a shoutout, a thanks of sorts to a couple of people. Nathaniel Samsel and his father Jeff Samsel. I have never met a young man so dedicated to the sport of fishing and taking care of what has been passed down to him. He's taken all that he's been taught and is putting it to great use. And in the process learning even more. For this, I'm thankful to Jeff for being such a great father.

Sunrise on Tallulah Falls Lake.

I'm honestly excited to see what the future holds for Nathaniel and to see the fruits of what he passes on. I can admit that my hookset, when bass fishing, is remarkably better than it was a couple of years ago because of him. One can only take so much ribbing from someone who is considerably younger and not try and improve.




Check out Nathaniel's page @ http://nathanielsamseloutdoors.blogspot.com/

Check out Jeff's page @ http://jeffsamsel.blogspot.com/

The two that got away?

A couple of weeks ago Nathaniel and I spent a morning up at Tallulah Falls lake fishing. This place has been our new go to spot for a while since we decided to try new waters that are also more local. I'm going to go ahead and say that I was way under prepared for what happened. Both gear wise and mentally.

The first moment was up at the power plant. I was fishing my new Lews baitcaster in the tailwaters of the power plant using a large white spinner bait on 8lb test line. I made a cast to the right of the structure and it was on. I know that current can make any fish seem larger than what it really it, but when that bass jumped out of the water I knew that this was the fish of my lifetime. Finally. After fishing most of my life since I was a young boy, I knew I was close to my 10lb bass! Unfortunately I will never know how large that bass was, but I do know it was strong enough to break 8lb test like it was thread.

After the bass broke off I sat there in disbelief of what seemed like an eternity. I was speechless. But on the inside I was throwing a tantrum that would compete with any 2 year old in any department store. I wanted to yell at the top of my lungs. I wanted to beat the boat into a metal hunk of pulp. I wanted to jump over board and get swept away. Just like the one that got away.

Instead I placed my head into both my hands and bent over. Cried. I cried. Not necessarily tears of anger or even pain. But more like a catharsis of sorts. Memories of fishing from my childhood came up and went down with that bass in such a way that it actually felt good. From the lure selection to the placement and reading the structure. Every thing that I did was because of years of fishing. Now my selection of 8lb test was pretty irresponsible considering that several people told me that big bass are in this lake. So other than that, it felt good. I got to share that moment with a real good friend and in my moment of vulnerability I wasn't judged but I was allowed to experience that moment in the best way I knew how.

A while later while fishing a buzzbait another lunker of a largemouth bass struck. And though it wasn't as large as the first, it was still hefty. This one jumped and threw the lure out of its mouth. For a moment I thought that these fish were descendents of Moby Dick. Well, the composure that I had with the first loss was used up and I'm pretty sure that the old couple across the lake looked over our way and wondered why one of the guys on that johnboat was yelling damn! damn! damn! while beating on the aluminum seat of the boat.

After that loss I knew that I had to up my game. By that I mean I had to up my line test and focus.

Nathaniel and I thought that we'd try to see if we could duplicate what we experienced on Sunday by going back out on Monday. Though we didn't get anything to hit that was the size and caliber that we had on Sunday, Monday did produce more bass of good quality and size. Oh, I believe that this was the first fishing trip where both of us were either really tired and sleepy the first hour or extremely focused to the point where we had tunnel vision for wanting to hook into any bass over 5lbs. Either way, it was a Monday well spent. Fish being caught or not, spending time with buds while on the water, in a river, or on the banks is time well spent.

Caleb and Nathaniel @ Tallulah Falls Lake

Eastanollee

Crossroads. Confluence. Intersections.
These words describe where I am currently in life.

But here's a little background of where I am from.

Born in 1971, I'm the son of an alcoholic mother and drug abuser dad. I can't use the word father for him since he was also an absentee parent. Respectfully speaking; he's deceased. The person who was primarily involved in the core of my upbringing was my maternal grandmother. She did a stellar job if I do say so myself. It's amazing what not sparing the rod will do for a young man.

Mary Fruster taught me a lot in just a short number of years. To my knowledge, she never left the state of Georgia, except for South Carolina. Everyone makes to Anderson sooner or later. I don't have the time to go into every detail about how she invested so much time and love into my life (and that rod), but I can share that she taught me how to appreciate and make the best of where you are and especially how to appreciate others. No matter who they are or what they are. That's what makes us all so unique. So special. So very special.

Here's a few things she taught me:

Every moment should be savored like it's gonna be your last. You never know when your usual "Good morning/night" might be your last. Savor every moment. Appreciate that moment.

Never be afraid to speak the truth. But be mindful that when you do speak the truth that it's the appropriate time and place. Truth; it's gonna hurt at times.

Never be ashamed of who you are and where you are from. Take pride in who you are and where you are from. Stand tall. Head high.

Relax and enjoy life. It's ok to go lay in the grass and stare at the clouds. But remember that when someone needs you - go. Enjoy the moment.

I could go on and on listing tips and hints as I call them that my grandmother taught me, but I don't have the time. Besides, those memories takes me to a place where I don't want to leave. So instead I will share one last thing.

You are the only person who can be you. Do your best at being you.

I bet you thought I was going to talk about how having not so of great parents made life hard. Yes, it was a challenge, but I found that not giving power to that makes me stronger. Yes, yes that was another tip from Mary Fruster.

Solo

It's that time of the week where every one separates and congregate together. Sundays have always intrigued me in this manner.The most intriguing part of this is the reaction from others when a man decides to take upon himself to use this time to go seek solitude and peace.
Six days of chatter followed with a seventh with more chatter weighs heavy at times.

One of the best lessons that I learned as a boy growing up on a farm is that it's when your alone, do you really find out who you are. I'm not saying that we should forsake others. What I am saying is that if one ever gets a chance to spend time alone and listen to what's around them and to what's going on inside them they realize that one is never truly alone.
That moment of peace is the best sound you'll ever know.

Exploring

When I was a young boy growing up in Eastanollee, Georgia, I was most likely to be found in the woods. Anywhere in the woods. If there was any sort of water to be found, there was a good chance I was either right next to it or right in it. Exploring. As a grown man the same scenario still applies. During most free moments in my life I can be found in the woods. Exploring. A few days ago was my maternal grandmother's birthday. Thoughts of her raising me on that small farm crosses my mind just about every time I'm in the woods, by a river, even on a mountain. I'm truly grateful that she instilled* in me such values. Values which help me to appreciate what I have and where I come from. And to never stop exploring.

*Instilled is code for she sometimes had to beat it into me. I was pretty stubborn child at times.

Two Hours Later

Yes, yes that was a line from a Sponge Bob episode.

So this Sunday started out with grandiose plans to go fishing with a real good fishing buddy of mine. Naturally, choosing a prime spot is the most important part of any fishing excursion. And naturally having a backup spot or two never hurts. We all know how Big Snowbird and the Nantahala turned out last week.

Well spot number one turned into a bust due to low water levels. By that I mean that we couldn't reach the water to launch the johnboat. It was that low!

So on to hole number two! Seed Lake! Nathaniel and I were both pretty excited to fish water that neither one of us has ever fished before. After about one of hour of trolling up the lake with no success and then another hour of trolling back down the lake against the chilly wind with no success we decided to try backup hole number three. This is the point where the post title makes sense.

After an hour, this was extremely exciting to us.

Upon spotting Nathaniel's truck at the dock I looked over at this creek that I didn't notice on the way out. I had a hunch and so I told Nathaniel that it was time for one quick detour.

The fish gods must have heard my plea and the silent offering of my firstborn child and rewarded us with four nice sized trout between the two of us! They even gave us a nice show of jumping out of the lake before being caught and released.

Rainbow Trout on Seed Lake (cred. Nathaniel Samsel)

Our goal this year to is catch quality sized fish of various species this year, but after spending two and then some hours in a johnboat on a cold Georgia day, I'm all good with just spending quality time with good friends and making quality memories in the process.

We still hit hole number three later on. Though no quality fish were caught and released, we still made quality memories.