True to Last Night's Plan

True to last night's plan, I arrived at Round Valley Reservoir about 10:00 a.m. I began near the main launch, feeling torpid and slow. I was out of touch with the gravel at my feet, wearing hiking boots as is my habit, but not feeling my usual pleasure in contact with the hard stuff. The rest of me was out of bearing with my usual fitness. Well aware that my state posed a question, that question involved--as it still does writing at present--more than the effort to place further casts when a common sensibility would have me quit.

I cast, set my rod down, got on my haunches, lay back, and just as I was about to clasp the back of my head with my hands to relax, got a phone call from Fred. He wasn't sure if I was going fishing today or tomorrow, and if tomorrow, wanted to fish with me. We will. Soon.

That question I mentioned. I don't believe I'm all washed up at age 56. My fitness remains in form. My legs look like a strong teenagers'. I'm under 200 pounds. My arms are strong.

On the phone, Fred reminded me that the main entry is open after Labor Day. I know that. Knew that before he phoned. Is it Alzheimer's? I don't believe that for a minute.

Through the main entry is where Fred had fished. So I drove over, made the walk to the left and outward, and, yes, my state improved somewhat, but still wasn't right. I had three pick ups from small fish. Maybe rock bass, I don't know.

I felt kind of dizzy while considering that it took me years to achieve the fitness and abundance I enjoyed here at the Valley for a number of years. Because--it only seemed--I might have to begin with scratch to get healthy again. I think there's plenty asleep in me right now and all is not lost.

Sadie noses here and there but stays in earshot. It is true that here she once got far ahead of me, and I feared she was lost in the woods, but I rounded a corner and there she stood staring at me.