Two months later I was driving down the high way headed north into the Adirondacks, a squeaking and vibrating trailer with no brakes loaded down with a ten foot tall crate containing a six foot microwave dish and five hundred and some odd feet of coax cable on a spool, towing it all with a shaking and sputtering half ton pick-up with two-hundred thou…sand miles on it. The warning lights on the dash were lit up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve, and the leaves were changing and beginning to fall. I sat in the back seat and stared out the window as the scenery passed by. Options. What were my options? I was reassessing life from the back seat of an old, smelly, cramped truck cab. My fishing rods hung in the back window and rattled and tapped out a non-stop song of stress, pain, and a story of being lost in life.
Fish or Die! 