I have always said that preparation is the key to a successful fishing trip. If you don’t go prepared, you might as well stay home and watch Bill Dance fall out of the boat a time or two. Unfortunately, I’ve never been much for taking my own advice. I’m more of the, “Do as I say, not as I do,” type of leader.  Nevertheless, always go prepared. I’m going to give you an example of overlooking the preparation stage of the fishing trip.

 It was a thursday morning and my brother, Terry, and I had the day off. We were cruising down a gravel road on the way home (It was a shortcut. All of us Kentucky hicks don’t live on gravel roads!) On the way we passed one of our favorite fishing spots. He looked at me, and I at him, and our fate was sealed. A quick 360 later and we were unloading the boat off the top of my Bronco. What, doesn’t everyone carry their boat everywhere they go on top of their vehicle?

So, there we were. We put the boat in the creek, threw the poles in the boat, and we were off. The current carried us about a mile down. As we sat there, we chatted.

Terry: Beautiful day.

Jess: Yup.

Terry: Fish ought to be biting.

Jess: Yup.

Terry: Coincidentally, where are the oars?

Jess: Aww, Hell.

Of course, a lack of oars would not keep us from fishing. We floated a couple more miles down the creek, found a good tree and tied off to it and began to fish. It was a a truly great day. We pulled in one big striped bass after another, eventually covering the bottom of the boat. Inevitably, the sun began to set, so we had to figure something out.

Terry: You could get out and push.

Jess: I can’t swim.

Terry: You could get out and push.

Jess: I know, I can grab these low hanging limbs and pull us up the river.

It seemed like a great solution at the time. It was slow going, but we were making progress. That is, until that one tree. I reached up and grabbed a limb. I paid little attention to the fact that the limb was very smooth and soft. Then, after a moment of reconsideration, I slowly looked up. Leave it to me to reach up and grab a water Moccasin. This is where it gets interesting. I let go fairly quickly. The snake then dropped into the boat. Now, this is not a big boat. It was just a little  carry along jon boat. I took a moment and considered the fact that the boat really wasn’t big enough for me, my brother and the snake. My reaction was to jump up on the bow of the boat.

You really had to be there to truly appreciate it, but picture it if you will. I’m pricariously balanced on the bow of the boat. I’m leaning to the left, then to the right, going backwards then forwards. At the time I did not know that I would be the progenitor of what would locally become known as the “Snake Dance.”

So, there I was, on the edge, somewhere between falling in and tipping the boat over.

Terry: Whatcha gonna do, Bro?

Jess: I can’t swim you idiot!

Terry: Well, look at this way, if you fall in, you drown. If you tip the boat over, you drown and all this fishing equipment goes to waste.

Jess: Aww Hell.

Knowing the value of good equipment, I leapt into the water. True, I couldn’t swim, but I could walk. I walked over to the edge and got out of the water and sat there while my brother brought the boat to shore. We watched as the snake glanced at me and slithered away. I’m almost sure I heard him giggle. Several hours later, we drug the boat back up to my truck and went home, another successful adventure.

We weren’t prepared that day. We should have planned the trip, brought an oar or two, and I should have watched where I was grabbing. Did I learn my lesson? I don’t know, but as soon as I get through writing this, I’m going fishing.