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.

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.

Intro

Seed Lake

It's about time that I started jotting down my thoughts and adventures again. I've done this several times in the recent past, but I figured that it's healthy to share so it's time to get to sharing. But in an attempt not to over share, this will not be one of those every day nor even a weekly release of the craziness and other stuff that goes on in my life. Just like life, it'll happen when it happens. There will also be an attempt to keep posts brief as well.

There's no point into going into who I am and all that jazz at this moment. It's my hope that by sharing that the read will be able to come to their own conclusion about the writer.