(a partial excerpt from my upcoming book. Try not to laugh too much at the picture. I'm learning what media suits me best)
A friend of mine took me to the Western Pennsylvania town of Latrobe one beautiful morning during the summer of, I believe, 1989. Although better known as the home of golfing legend Arnold Palmer, Latrobe also plays home to a beautiful stream named the “Loyalhanna”. That day I had one of the best and worst fishing moments of my whole life, and received a life lesson which would later be reinforced by Scripture.
It took us just under an hour to get to this stream from Pittsburgh, and as we cruised down the road paralleling the stream my excitement caused me to emphatically push my friend to stop the car at a spot which was far upstream of the section to which he intended to introduce me. This area was just off the two lane road we were riding (another 2 lane borders the stream on the other side) and required a short climb down a hill. We were literally only yards off the road and less than a mile from a crowded business district yet the steep drop to the water and the thick lining of trees guarding this stretch of water made it feel like we were in some mountain miles away from anything.
As we took up our spots I looked across the water and recognized an area that looked quite promising as a spot where the best fish in the immediate run would hold, waiting for food to swim by its lair. My imagination betrayed me as I couldn’t even fix in my mind an image of the type of fish that would be tough enough to claim such an ideal spot in such a marvelous section of stream. I quickly baited my hook (I had to move quickly: this friend was a great fisherman and I could tell he had noted the spot also) and sought secure footing for what would literally be a cast all the way across the stream into a crease in some rocks the size of a pile of basketballs, 3 or four of them. Regarding the size of this stream, it would probably only be considered a stream in Western Pennsylvania and a few other North American areas because we have several large rivers. In many places the Loyalhanna would be considered a river itself especially with its Whitewater sections.
As I got my footing I reared back and with a grunt cast forward and slightly upstream as hard as I could, sending my live leech sailing on 4 pound line high into the air and rocketing right towards the spot! My heart was pounding even before the line settled because of what I expected to happen and the sheer delight of an accurate cast for a change! At this point my guess is that you’re thinking that I cast, nothing happened and I got a life lesson from complete disappointment.
WRONG!!
I noted the perfect holding spot, made a great cast, and when my live leech traveled across the stream despite my awkward stance in the rocks, landing less than 2 feet from the rocks, a huge shadow emerged from the rocks and headed directly toward it! This is the kind of moment fishermen live for and it was happening! To me!! In a moment all my training and practice had come together to initiate what was going to be the most exciting catch of my young life- and in an instant, this was when I blew it all. I was so excited that upon seeing that huge shadow after my bait that instead of waiting to feel the weight of the fish on my hook, I reared back on the rod when it seemed the fish was so close that there was no way it couldn’t have taken the hook. Well there was a way, because it hadn’t.
You don’t get two shots at a fish like that and I never saw it again. This was when I learned that preparation isn’t just leading up to the moment of execution. Preparation carries through the moment of execution and beyond.
