The First Unauthorized Expedition

Filed by Jimmy. PHASE 2, WEEK 5.

We were living at a country place that year, and within walking distance there was a pond. A pond, to a kid, is not scenery. It’s an objective.

I wanted to go fishing. The official response: we don’t have any fishing hooks, so no fishing. Request denied for lack of materials.

But I’d been to the junkyard. I knew the difference between “we don’t have it” and “we haven’t made it yet.” So I spent the morning at the wire bin—clothes hangers—bending hooks. Barbs were beyond my manufacturing capability, but the fundamental geometry of a hook is not complicated. By afternoon I had a tackle inventory of my own production.

I presented the prototypes for review. The verdict from management: those won’t work.

So I packed some things and ran away to the pond.

I want to be clear that this was, in my mind, a full running-away. Provisions packed. Departure unannounced. A boy and his hand-forged tackle, gone to live off the land. I fished my expedition, concluded operations, and walked home.

Nobody had noticed I was gone.

I have decided, on a fifty-year delay, to take that as a compliment to my fieldcraft.

Lesson logged: “we don’t have it” is the beginning of a build, not the end of a plan. And if your hooks fail review, take them to the pond anyway—the fish are the only review board that counts.

More field reports declassified soon. —Jimmy