The Fish, A Dream And Recovery

It all started shortly after I got sober in 2004. I needed to find a hobby or a sport that would keep me busy, not to mention inexpensive. I never had much money and was not working at the time. Unfortunately, I was unemployable due to the damage I had done to my own reputation. I was looking for work, but no one would touch me with a ten foot fishing pole! I was like a tornado that ripped through people’s lives, including many employers.

Fishing was in my blood from early childhood. Some of my fondest memories were digging up worms with my grandfather in my back yard and putting them into glass jars, to be used later at the confluence where the Highwood River met the Bow River. I needed to find a safe outlet for my energy and something that would keep my mind busy and off the booze permanently. The solution was fishing and the Bow River was nice and close. Alas, the perfect plan was born!

I was lucky to get a vehicle with some money I had tucked away. I headed off to Wholesale Sports, low on gas but high on life. I walked through the threshold of the front door, eager to get a new rod and some tackle for my new adventures. I scooped up a 30.00 Abu Garcia rod combo, a fishing license and a couple lures. The rod was like fishing with a two by four! That’s all I could afford but it made me happy, very happy. I had a mission, and it wasn’t going to the bar to get loaded, it was off to the river instead. I pulled into a spot just off Deerfoot Trail and bounced out of my car like a deer running across a busy freeway. I quickly walked down the bank and arrived to fish rising everywhere around me. It was like the feeling I got when I walked into the bar to get my first drink, but better, WAY BETTER.

I slid the line through the guides of the rod in such a hurry I forgot to open the bail of the reel. Beginners mistake after I already tied up the lure onto the line. After taking a moment to figure out what went wrong and retying, I was finally ready to make that much anticipated cast. The fish were still popping out of the water like that whack-a-mole game at the amusement park. The caddis flies were swirling around the surface of the river like moths to a flame. My lure finally hit the water as I exhaled deeply, my beats per minute rising like those fish in front of me. I reeled and reeled some more, casting like a madman. I knew I was in the right spot and it was only a matter of time before I had one on the end of my brand new lure. Several hundred casts later and not even a bite! Things were sure different from the days where grandpa and I dropped those worms down there and caught plenty.

There are so many variables to be considered when fishing. Did I cast too high, too far to the left or right, did I reel it in too slow or too fast? Was the lure to shiny, or is it too dull. Do I need a lure that rattles, or should I use one that does not. Do I fish here, or should I go over there? Maybe that is why I am out here in the first place, because I don’t expect anything! It would be nice to land one or five but if I don’t, I am really OK with that. I never really knew what I was doing or why, all I knew was I was not drinking and not using.

In the first three months it was hard, extremely difficult to keep my mind off of booze and the drugs. I would wake up in the morning and the first thing my mind would go to was the drink, or the drug. Instead of drinking I would go to the river because anything is possible at the river. I can be hopeful out here, even when I fail, I still carry faith. Sometimes I would just sit there on that log and cry, sometimes tears of sadness but mostly tears of joy. I never got dejected when I would come up empty handed. The only thing it did for me was keep me motivated and determined to land one. I would not land a fish for a long time, but I kept coming back. That is what they told me to do when I went to those meetings, keep coming back.

I got a job at about the six month mark in my journey. It gave me cash to buy extra fishing lures and a better rod later down the road. I would pack my fishing gear in the car every day and when I got off work, I would pull the car over and dip down underneath the Ivor Strong Bridge, sometimes fishing well into dark and missing dinner. I really understood why they called the Bow River “the river of a thousand casts”.

Several weeks then months passed without me even getting so much as a bite. I was baffled and could not understand why I could not even get one fish to strike, let alone reel in a fish. After buying many lures, I figured it out. The lures I was getting were not high quality! They were cheap lures and spinners that were not made by high end fishing tackle manufactures. That combined with not knowing how to present the lures, and no knowledge of my quarry made for a losing combination. I started to buy brand name lures like Blue Fox, Rapala, Berkley, Panther Martin. I finally got lucky one Saturday morning just after the sun rose above the horizon. I say lucky because there was no skill involved back then, it was just heave the lure out there and hope for the best. I always say “everybody starts somewhere”. That small rainbow trout brought the biggest smile to my face, and ignited a spark in my soul.

I kept learning and searching for information in the book stores. I would frequent local tackle shops and look for books on spin fishing for trout. I bought a computer in my second year of sobriety and fished the internet for pertinent information for my target species, brown and rainbow trout. I kept fishing daily which retained me happy and sober! I owe so much to the sport of fishing and those slimy elusive creatures that live just below the surface of the glacial mountain water. Many seasons have passed now since I made that first cast in 2004. On October the 25th 2015 I will be celebrating 11 years without a drink or a drug. I am humbled and grateful for that river that kept me alive, in some of the darkest days, early on in my recovery. The river of life has brought me so many blessings and memories that will never be forgotten. When they use the term “the tug is the drug”, I can really identify with that saying. I don’t think about drinking any longer, but I sure do think about how I can become a better angler, how I can help people catch fish regularly, and how I can give back to the angling community each and every year.

Most of all I think about the next morning or evening I can sit on that log again and watch those fish dance for me. I think about taking my seven year old daughter out fishing with me, to perhaps ignite that same spark within her soul. I am no better than any of you or no worse for that matter. I am your equal, your friend and just another angler on the river of life, searching for his next fish, the next amazing sunrise and the next stunning sunset. I would love to thank all those wonderful humans who welcomed me into their homes, who poured me hot cups of coffee and let me cry on their shoulders. Those sponsors who have sent me amazing products to try, at no charge, I am honored you believed and believe in me. The pros who generously gave me hours of your time doing interviews, I thank you. The many wonderful employees at the local tackle stores for pointing me in the right direction, I thank you. To the bloggers and fishing websites who let me guest post, or featured me as a writer, I love you for that and I hope I made you proud! And to my amazing clients who come see me and fish with me year after year, I have no words to express how grateful I am for each and every one of you.