Creek Fishing, Survival

By Victor Cox

Going fishing isn’t supposed to turn out this way. Occasionally stopping to fish, Victor makes his way to the mouth of the creek where it meets the Lake. Making warm memories along the way, he is mesmerized with the fishing possibilities. Not noticing the sun was setting until it was, basically, too late, the adventure starts on his way back to the truck. Only the reflections on the water and the hum of the electric motor kept him from going insane between bouts of riveting horror as his mind runs amuck with terror-induced events. The consecutive frightening experiences demonstrate the fear one can conjure up in an overloaded and panicked human mind.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Victor Cox
• Release date: Mar 15, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301896868

Victor Cox

Victor Cox is an aspiring writer. After growing up in northern Louisiana, he was drafted into Military service and chose the Air Force as a career. Married at the time, his son was born when he was in Vietnam. His son was eight months old the first day Victor saw him in person. Victor and his family moved to many stateside locations in the Air Force, including one tour in Germany. Victor retired from the Air Force after twenty eight years of service. His military service encompassed being an aircraft maintainer, a flying Crew Chief, aircraft maintenance instructor, and manager. He is a retired Chief Master Sergeant (E9). After completing a tour in Vietnam, he pursued his educational opportunities. After such a precarious start in High School, he earned three Associate of Science Degrees and a Bachelor of Science Degree. He graduated valedictorian from Southern Illinois University at Carbondale. He regrets telling people he was the only one in his family to graduate High School and go to college. He has one son and three grandsons. He presently resides in Powderly, Texas.

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CREEK FISHING, SURVIVAL

By Victor Cox

Copyright 2013 Victor Cox

Smashwords Edition

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Book Cover: Copyright Roman Milert, Dreamstime Stock Photo

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this free ebook. You are welcome to share it with your

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This work is approximately thirty percent fiction, the product of the author’s imagination. However, it is based on actual events occurring to the author.

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1. Going Down the Creek

Chapter 2. Going Up the Creek

Chapter 3. Going Home

Chapter 4. Revisiting the Creek

About the Author

Connect with the Author

Other Books by Victor Cox

Creek Fishing, Survival

Chapter 1. Going Down the Creek

DISCLAIMER: All these events are based on actual occurrences or a reasonable facsimile thereof, however, the facts may have been changed, altered, or slightly adjusted to fit the printed page. (sort of like a movie picture changed to fit the TV screen) If these occurrences are similar to what you have experienced, it is purely coincidental, and no representation is made that you would have reacted in like manner. Some depictions are not very graphic and not intended for mature or immature readers. (probably, shouldn’t be read by anyone) Not responsible for damages caused by physical, emotional, or psychological repercussions. Known in the state of California (and many other states) to cause permanent mental and physical damage, especially to pregnant women and children. (I guess, by laughing) Clinical Test readings of this material to mice resulted in drowsiness. (For the mice and reader) You may, or may not, be affected the same way. Do not read this material while driving or operating machinery. (Duh!) Read at your own risk.

Man, I just can’t go fishing and have a relaxing time anymore. Seems like it always turns into some kind of survival struggle for me. What seemed like a pleasant and sunny start for a fishing trip should never have turned into such a life or death ordeal. However, seems like I can never have just an average going-fishing good time. Why does it seem to always happen to me? I don’t know anyone else that has such a run of bad luck when fishing, especially, a trip that almost cost my life!

You see, it started out innocently enough. I found this creek that leads into Pat Mayes Lake not far from Powderly, TX, where I lived. It’s named Sulfur Creek according to a local guy. I guess that should’ve given me some clue, but it didn’t. It’s on the south end of the lake and I discovered it by accident while driving around the lake one day just looking around. There’s this long bridge over the creek and you have to turn off the highway just at the start of the bridge, then go about a half mile paralleling the highway to the creek.

The semi-gravel road was pretty good off the highway to the creek. Upon arrival, I checked the creek out. We hadn’t had any rain lately, and it appeared somewhat low. It was about thirty feet wide with trees overhanging the water as far as I could see. It reminded me of some place in Africa, the Amazon, or Louisiana, with all the overhanging limbs and growth along the bank. About the only thing missing, was Spanish moss hanging from the trees and some tropical birds flying around. It looked good enough to check out, even if it wasn’t very good fishing, and who knows, it might turn out to be a great fishing hole. The tea-colored water wasn’t real clear, but pretty good. I wondered if any Piranha were lurking around waiting for a meal? Were they watching me as I walked near the bank line? It stirred my curiosity, especially, when I saw the bony remains of some small animal near the water’s edge. Any other time, it would have been quite picturesque, but somehow it seemed ominous. No matter, after a little more walking and looking around, I went back home and told Merlene, my wife, what a good-looking creek I found. I told her I wanted to put my John boat in it and check it out sometime.

The next day it was sunny and warm and, after a good breakfast, I decided to load the John boat in my trailer and check out the creek. I expected to catch some crappie, or white perch, or maybe a bass, since I had recently caught a few on the lake at my house. After going to the bait shop for minnows, I hurriedly loaded up everything and took off for the creek. It always happens, doesn’t it, the time just slips away? The early start was now going to be mid-afternoon.

Eventually, arriving at the creek, I turned the truck around and put it in position to unload the boat. Getting out, I noticed there were some empty rifle shells and shotgun shell hulls on the ground near the sparsely gravel incline where people put their boats in. I didn’t pay any attention to the empty shells—another clue I should have picked up on. I figured someone had been down here shooting at cans or sighting in their rifle for deer hunting season. There was no ramp to put the boat in the water, just a sharp, four foot decline on the bank. That didn’t bother me any putting in, but I figured the incline would be a little problem getting out. About a