There I was on my back in three feet of water with both bones in my lower leg broken in two. It happened quicker than I can remember; one second I was taking another step out into the river, and the next, I was on my back with my chest waders filling up. I was being swept away by the current.

Like many others, I enjoy fishing by myself. It’s a chance to admire the beauty, move at my own pace and direction, and most of all, it’s an opportunity to get away from it all. Oh, and then there is the fishing part. I had just purchased a new fly rod and was anxious to try it out. The river had cleared from a two day rain, and combined with spring snowmelt, had risen about a foot.

I do most of my fishing in the California Sierras however, I will fish anywhere. I’ve often said I would fish in a mud puddle if I had a rod handy.

Recently I had a chance to work in Oregon and found myself checking out new rivers. Most fun was the McKenzie River, renowned for its namesake drift boats and world-class trout fishery. It was there that I was presented with a chance to confront one of my long-standing fears.

The water was about three feet deep and I managed to half crawl, half swim to shore. I then encountered the first of three gross events. I stood up and tried to put weight on my foot and felt the broken ends of my leg bones rubbing against each other – ouch!

So then, on all fours, I crawled through 150 yards of blackberry brambles and poison oak back to my vehicle. Along this trek all sorts of feelings came to mind. I was embarrassed by the dumb thing that I did. I was afraid of what had happened to my leg. And, most of all, I was amazed that it didn’t hurt very much. I had on neoprene waders that helped act as a tension wrap but also prevented me from seeing the damage. I envisioned the bones sticking out through the skin and bleeding and who knows what else. Had I caused permanent damage to my leg? How was I going to make it to help?

I arrived at my vehicle, changed to a dry shirt, and couldn’t find my cell phone which was mistakenly left at home. Driving was going to be more difficult because my car has a standard transmission. I figured that I could use the weight of my boot on the gas pedal and the hand brake to stop. But could I drive? What about shock? Would I pass out? Still, I didn’t feel much pain. I turned up the radio and forced myself to sing to the music. The 20 mile drive back to town was uneventful. Because I was new to the town, I didn’t know where a hospital was so I drove to the home of a friend who then took me to the Emergency Room. X-rays confirmed that both leg bones in my lower right leg were broken in two and one broken in a second place, all from a simple fall.

I experienced the second gross event during surgery that night. I had chosen a spinal anesthesia so I could stay awake during the procedure. Part way through the procedure I heard the familiar sound of an electric drill. Making holes in wood or steel is one thing but drilling pilot holes in my leg bone in preparation for inserting 2 inch long screws was a bit much!

I left the hospital the following day with 7 screws and a plate in my leg and new crutches. Two weeks later came the final ugly. I learned that surgeons have replaced stitches with staples. I watched the nurse take out 30 pieces of sharp steel from my leg with a staple remover!

So what is this story about?
I’m far from the youngest person on the stream, now looking back at 50. As much as I like to think I still have my youthful athleticism, the truth is, age does take a toll. Don’t think Im giving in to it, (not ready to tackle that one yet), I'm just recognizing that I don’t jump quite as far, move as quickly, nor take as many chances as I once did. For years I had taken precautions and in some cases limited my fishing out of fear of an accident. So now it’s happened.

I know I was lucky, despite the serious injury. I plan to be more careful in the future. I bought a wading stick, wear a PFD, and now carry first aid. Always inform someone of your fishing plans. Don’t be a dummy and wait till you have an accident to take care.

PS: 59 days after the break I was back on one of my favorite rivers, rock hopping my way from pool to pool!