My Lesson Learned I set off early in the morning after a hectic week at work, looking forward to leaving behind the office, teenagers, husband and dog to enjoy the solitude in my SUV for two hours with my coffee, Billy Joel and James Taylor. We arrived at the fly shop to meet the guides, and then followed them with their boats to the spot in a nearby town to launch. The guides were great in every way, except, not very good with remembering that people were following their vehicles in a foreign place. When I lost the first truck/boat after I got caught at a red light, I pulled over waiting for the next guide to pass me so I could continue to follow him. In that neck of the woods, on that particular day, it was like searching for a mother with a stroller at a crowded shopping mall. There were trucks towing boats everywhere, turning left, right and going straight!! I didn't know which to follow. Judy and Judith had pulled behind me, threw up their hands, we waited a few minutes, and then they pointed to one truck. I took off after it, so intent on not losing sight of it that I wasn't really keeping track of where we were driving or if we were following the right truck. We finally crossed a bridge, turned off the road and drove under the bridge down to the water where I breathed a sigh of relief after seeing the other guides. Our day on the water was great. Ten hours later we arrived down river to disembark. The ladies climbed up the boat ramp to sit and chat at a picnic table while the guides pulled their boats out of the water with their trucks. Always paranoid about losing my keys on a river, while sitting at the picnic table I pulled out my car keys to feel the comfort of having them in my hands. Chris drove us back to the launch site to our cars where I realized that my keys were no longer in my hand, nor in any pocket. By now it was dark outside. We were all exhausted and just wanted to go home. Mary wouldn't leave me stranded there. Chris drove me back to the picnic table area, roughly a fifteen-mile ride. Mary followed in her car and we searched every pocket of my vest and the ground with flashlights for my keys. No luck! Mary drove me back to a drop off point in Plymouth Meeting where my husband could pick me up that night. I had to notify the state police that the car was abandoned under some bridge (I couldn't even describe where it was) so that if it were found they wouldn't think that a fisherman had drowned and never returned to his car. My son drove me to find the car the next afternoon, intact, wallet and all!! Perhaps we can have a column in the next issue noting everyone's suggestions for dealing with keys while on fishing excursions. |