Unfortunate event number 1: Reaching the Russian is always an adventure. It involves waking up just as the Alaskan summer sun does, riding a very hazardous trail for a couple of miles, and enduring a hike on foot for another mile or two. It isn't easy, but it's worth it.

After arriving at the spot where we stash our bikes and hike back to the river, we put on our waders. I pulled mine on ready to go, but when I tried to walk, I realized they were too small. My waders clung to my body like a leach. Each step I took just cinched them tighter and tighter to my legs making it harder and harder to walk. They didn't fit anywhere, but I didn't have any other option. So, I just kept trudging on.  

            Unfortunate event number 2: We finally reached the river, cold, but ready to fish. I had just set up my rod and proceeded to step into the deeper section of the river when a tsunami's worth of water flooded into my boots. Within seconds, my boots were full of the Russian River, but that wasn't the only part of me that was getting wet. Water was seeping into my waders through tiny holes at my thigh level. The strain of the too tight waders being plastered onto my too tall frame was too much for the material. It was, literally, bursting at the seams. I just had to make do with what I had to work with, and that was the cold Russian River and a pair of poor quality waders. At least the chilly water was keeping me awake and alert, and my hopes of having an epic fishing experience were still alive. After all, catching your limit of fish can remedy any bad day.

            Unfortunate event number 3: Any good fisherman knows that you work the river. It doesn't work you. That means you have to move around and find the good holes. Sometimes you take a little break from one spot to try another.  I was trying to do just that as I headed back to the bank. Unfortunately, the river had other ideas.

The rocks near the bank just happened to be covered in slippery algae, and you can probably guess what happened next based on the way things were going for me that morning. Yes, I slipped and fell into the water. If I didn't already know what being wet and cold felt like before that moment, I, one hundred percent, understood it as I surfaced. Everything, from the top of my head to my already wrinkled toes, was soaked.

There would be no super cool fishing name awarded that day. My pack would be as empty as it arrived in, and my dreams of out-fishing anyone had been snuffed out in the current of the river.

The Russian beat me that day. However, even with my too small waders, even with my entire body soaked and having caught nothing but a potential cold, I knew I would be back the next morning, trying again. You see, there is a lesson to be learned in every experience life hands you. This series of unfortunate events taught me to keep on fishing. Even when things are tight and you have a hard time moving forward, walk on. When you fall and feel miserable, get back up. When you fail to reach your goal, set a new one. When you get overwhelmed by things in life, take a break and then, get back on the river. Keep on fishing and you will eventually catch something of worth.