The sun was fighting through a thin layer of clouds that Saturday morning as I stared out the window. I had all ready gathered what little fishing equipment that I needed and was patiently waiting on Dana to wake up. I was really excited about our one day fishing trip. You might think that I had visions of large fish pushing the limits of my rod and reel in an awesome struggle. But that was not the case. Instead I was thinking about spending a quiet day fishing with Dana, relaxing at my side. It seemed that eons had passed since we had last spent a day together at the lake.

By nine-thirty we were in the van and headed toward Lenoir City. There are plenty places to fish that were a lot closer to home, but we were headed for waters that were a little clearer. Growing up in the North-West gave me a definite appreciation for cold, clear, water. But sadly, that is hard to come by where I live in TN. So when given the opportunity, I will driver a little farther to fish in clearer water.

We arrived at our fishing destination some forty-five minutes later. A slight feeling of gloom washed over me as I pulled the van into a parking slot. We had been to this very spot before, But I didn’t remember the long descent that we would have to hike down and then back up again when our day was done. Its amazing how things look differently through my eyes now. I am sure that the reason that I didn’t remember the long hike from the past was because I was not disabled when we had visited several years earlier.

My wife Dana was carrying two chairs, two large McDonald cups full of coke and a large bag of snacks. I had a small pack on my back and carried a smaller bag in one hand while carrying the fishing rod in the other. All the while trying to control my steps as I fought with my crutches. I would like to say that I was right behind my wife. Well, I was for the first few feet anyway. But I had to move slowly, taking my time placing one crutch forward and then the other. If I would have slipped, I don’t think that I would have stopped until I arrived at the bottom. And that would have been a lengthy tumble. I am sure that if anyone had seen us making that trek, they would have just shook their heads, wondering how many broken bones I might get before I reached the bottom.

Safely reaching the lake bank was a joy in its self. Not just the relief to rid ourselves of the physical burdens, but the emotional ones as well. It seems that every time I spend time at a river or lake, I come home with fewer struggles than I had when I arrived.

A few minutes later we were settled down. My line baited, and cast; Dana sitting in her chair, enjoying the peaceful surroundings.

Now before I go any further, I would like to say that I do love fly fishing. But because of my disability, those times that I am able to spend on the river can be numbered.can be numbered. And since I no longer have a boat, I do the next best thing. Revert to my childhood, bait a worm or minnow, attach a bobber and see what happens.

After spending about forty-five minutes without a single bite, I decided to try a spot a few hundred feet deeper into the small cove. After wobbling with stiff uncooperative legs through the thick grass, I came to a spot that looked promising. I cast the line out and as soon as the bobber hit the water, it disappeared below the surface. I quickly set the hook and reeled in a small Blue Gill. It wasn’t anything to write home about, but it was a fish. And catching small fish is better than catching nothing. Dana was awesome as she gathered our gear and hauled it to the new spot. Not only was the fishing a little better, but we weren’t being blasted as hard by the strong winds that were blowing in off of the main channel.

During the next few hours I missed a few and caught a few. I guess that is why its called fishing instead of gathering. And what fun would it be if you caught every fish on every cast? Not much fun at all.

As the day slowly moved into the heat of the day, the fishing activity slowed considerably. Actually I had been staring at my bobber for nearly an hour without a single nibble. I don’t remember if it was Dana or I that made the comment. But something was said about leaving if the fishing didn’t pick up. As soon as it was said, my bobber literally disappeared. I didn’t react as quickly as I should have. After staring at the floating bobber for so long without any activity had slowed my reaction time. But the fish was determined to get a free meal as I set the hook. Immediately I knew that this was the biggest fish for the day.

I was reeling in fast, hoping that the drag was set just right. With Dana’s help, I clumsily got to my feet and realized that there was a potential problem. Where I had been fishing, the water was at least six or seven feet below me, A straight drop off. I knew from past experience that I would not be able to lift a fish of any size that far out of the water with the small line that I was using. My only hope was to move about a hundred yards even further into the cove. This was not the easiest solution because of how spastic my legs were behaving. But I didn’t want to lose the fish, so I did my best to walk slowly towards the spot that I could retrieve the fish.

I took a few steps, paused long enough to fight the fish, then moved a little further. Several times during this maneuver, I was sure that the fish would swim to a place that I couldn’t get to it. But thankfully the fish and I made it to a spot that I could reach. As I finished reeling the remainder of the line onto the reel, it was obvious that the fish was just as worn out as I was.

It was a real pleasure to see the catfish as I pulled it to shore. I didn’t have any scales with me, but I am guessing that it was a couple of pounds. Not a huge fish, except when you compare it to what I had caught earlier.

After releasing the catfish, I decided to try a simple, polished spoon. I had used this to fish for both trout and Bass before, so I though that I would give it a try. I guess I must have fished for more than twenty minutes before I caught another fish. It wasn't anything to be excited about as it was just a medium sized Blue-Gill. But it was still fun to feel the fight against the rod. After I had landed the little fella, I realized that there was no way that I could have lost it. It had hit the lure so aggressively that all three prongs of the treble hook had pierced its lips. It took some doing to remove the hook because the the points were actually wider than the fishes open mouth. But with a little patience and perseverance, it was soon swimming again. I continued to use the lure for a while longer, but after no more strikes, I went back to the old stand by.

Several times later, when the fish weren’t biting, we would threaten to leave. And just as before, within just a few seconds, the bobber would be pulled under. I am not sure why, but I was unable to catch any of those fish. I have a suspicion that it might have been the same fish, just trying to get under my skin. If that is the case, it better be prepared, because I am sure that there is a six year old out there some where that has a lot better reaction times than me.

Once we were finished with our threats, we decided that we were really finished for the day. And we were pleasantly surprised when we realized that there was a parking lot not to far from where we were. So Dana grabbed some things and started the hike up the long hill to get the van. This is one of the hardest parts of being disabled. In my mind, I should be the strong one. I should be the one hiking up that hill. But just because that is the way that I feel, does not make it so. But being as stubborn as I am at times, I was able to gather the rest of our things and hobble over to the parking lot.

As enjoyable as it was to be fishing, it felt good to both of us to sit down in the soft seats of the van. As we started to leave, Dana suggested that we do a little exploring. And I am glad that she did. We knew that we were near the park, but had never actually been within its boundaries. While there, we found a lot of nice picnic spots along the waters edge, and several nice places to fish as well. As we were about to leave, we turned down one last road. I wasn’t sure that we should have taken it because it looked more like a private drive than a public road. At the end we found an actual fishing pier. The pier was level and had a nice hand rail around the waters edge. I was really glad to see this because there aren’t that many good, safe places to fish from a wheel chair. This spot would also be great to bring your small children.

So if you are ever in or around Lenior City and want to do a little fishing, check out their park. Its pretty close to the dam and easy to find.