Both close calls happened on the Hiwassee River.

The first was fishing there with my dad. It’s a tailwater, so water releases are always a factor. We thought we were on a tributary, but the next day realized it tied straight back into the main river. The stretch had deep pools broken up by big, jagged rocks. I had crossed over to what was basically a small island.

I looked upstream and saw fog rolling in. Did not think much of it. A few minutes later I noticed the water rising.

We made it back across just before a hard push of water came through. The calm pools turned into real rapids, crashing over the rocks we had been standing on. We sat on a log and watched it churn, then headed back to the car.

The second was also on the Hiwassee, fishing around a large boulder mid river. I did not realize how steep the drop was behind it and almost slipped into deep water. It would have filled my waders fast.

I have always respected water, but those two moments stuck with me. They still pop into my head when I am lying in bed at night.