Lost Luck! Luck Found?

While this will be the final post that I share which details a trip that my sons and I took to Roaring River State Park, it just might be the best story from the trip.  But before I get to that story, I have to tell another one first.  To read the full version of this story, feel free to read Chapter 1 of the book I recently published which can be found by clicking here.  The short version goes like this.  About 10 years ago, I won a fly rod in a fishing competition at Bennett Spring State Park.  I chose to give this rod to my oldest son, Mason, (the youngest wasn't born yet) and to make this rod his first fly rod.  I gave the rod the moniker of "Lucky" so I was fortunate enough to win the rod and I hoped that some of that luck would be passed along to him.  While he isn't as passionate about fly fishing as I am, he has become fairly proficient with the rod and appreciates the story behind it.  Because of this and other factors, that's why I felt so bad when disaster struck and it was all my fault.

After doing some fishing and sight seeing at the head of the spring and around the middle of the stream at Roaring River, I decided to show the boys where the park ended.  My truck was parked near the catch and release/swimming area.  I decided that we would jump in the truck and head to a parking lot that is located just outside of the campgrounds that are furthest downstream.  I was putting some gear in the bed of the truck and organizing it for transport.  Cody, my youngest son, was talking to me about who my favorite superhero was, I was trying to be careful with the rods, and I wanted to make sure our vests were secure for the drive.  In other words, I had a lot on my mind.  Apparently, I had so much on my mind that I forgot that I placed Lucky on the ladder rack on my truck and forgot to place the rod in my homemade rod holder.  

I backed out of my parking spot, pulled out of the parking lot, and headed to our destination.  It was only after I parked in the new spot that I noticed that Lucky was missing.  I quickly figured out what I had done and we retraced our steps.  We didn't find it after driving back, look along the side of the road, and asking strangers if they had found a blue fly rod.  We inquired about any lost and found rods at the hatchery office, park office, and park store.  After apologizing to Mason, profusely and repeatedly, we started to accept the idea that the rod might be gone for good.  What made me feel worse was when I asked Mason if the rod was that big of a deal to him.  His exact words were, "Yeah, a little.  I mean it was a gift from my dad."  I almost broke down and cried right there but I wasn't ready to quit searching.

At the end of our last day at the park, I decided that I was going to check with the park office and park store right before we left.  We caught some fish, cleaned some fish, and broke down our campsite.  We headed back to the park and went to the park office.  The office knew us by now and knew what we were looking for.  They informed us that a blue fly rod had not be turned in but they had my phone number and would call me if the rod was turned in.  We were down to our last option which was check with the park store.  

We walked into the store and headed for the back where tags are sold and where waders/rods are rented.  There was a young man that was working behind the counter and I asked, "Is there any chance that a fly rod has been turned into lost and found?"  He smiled really big and said, "A young man just brought in a rod as a matter of fact."  I quickly turned to Mason you could feel the hope and optimism that we shared.  I quickly tried to temper our optimism and told him that it might not be his rod but I sure hoped so.  When the young man peeked around the corner of a storage room and said, "Is it blue?"  I came unglued!  There is was, the rod that I had won, gifted, and lost...and it was back where it belonged.

During the time when the rod was lost, Mason and I talked about a lot of things.  We talked about the idea that maybe the rod was broken after it fell out of the truck and that someone just tossed it in a trash can.  We talked about how maybe it fell in the stream as we drove over a bridge.  The most discussed scenario though, was that someone had found the rod and kept if for him/herself.  We talked about how there are inconsiderate and selfish people in the world.  We talked about how there are good people that do the right thing as well.  We talked about how we hoped that the rod would find its way back to him but that hope wasn't a plan/strategy.

What we found and were blessed with was the generosity and thoughtfulness of a perfect stranger that we will probably never meet.  I wish that I could have found the young man that turned in the rod, tell him how important the rod is to us, and give him some sort of reward or gift to show our appreciation.  If you read this and by some chance or luck know who turned my son's fly rod into the park store at Roaring River, please put me in contact with that young man so we can properly thank him.  If we never get a chance to properly thank him, then I hope this story spreads like wildfire and shows everyone in the world, especially anglers, that there are indeed a lot of good folks in the world that are considerate of others and do the right thing when given the chance.