01/01/10 The Hardest Journey Yet

January 2010
Sport Fishing Magazine
FOR THE RECORD
The Hardest Journey Yet
By Tred Barta

The doctors said I could be dead in 90 days. They suggested a nursing home in Denver close to the hospital where I was receiving chemotherapy.
I made it back to our beloved Longbow Ranch the next day. The very day I got home, I started to get better. Once a week I take a strong antibiotic called Rituxan. My Waldenström’s blood cancer is in retreat. My blood counts are close to normal; the Vail doctors say Waldenström’s will not kill me.
I have no feeling below my chest, being paralyzed from T4 vertebra down. I work out three times a day, shoot my bow, lift weights, pull bungees and take laps around the barn in my wheelchair. I’m a terror in the wheelchair. Lots of spills and lots of blood from crashes. I pretend I’m fly-fishing for sails. My 2005 Ford F-250 pickup truck has been modified with a hydraulic lift in the back and an electrically lowering front seat. I get in and out and drive myself. My ATV now has all hand controls. I will ride a horse next week thanks to a special saddle. I’m driven to be the best I can be for myself and to set an example for and motivate others.
My upper-body strength dropped by at least 50 percent, but now I’m gaining it back quickly. In fact, I am well enough that I’m leaving for Guatemala shortly to attempt to catch a sailfish on 2-pound-test for The Best and Worst of Tred Barta on the Versus Network.
My first two operations have given me much greater independence. Before them I felt very dependent on others. But my confidence is super high and growing every day. I can do anything you can do except I need help — and this I’m not used to.
God has given me a new deck of cards, and I will play them the best I can. I will not give up. I have been given the privilege to appreciate life in its most basic form. I know what’s important. Prior to my paralysis, I took an awful lot for granted. Now I know the most valuable assets I have consist of moments, such as having breakfast on our porch with my wife, Anni, and lounging on the dock with friends after a day of fishing.
What I don’t want in life is for anyone to feel sorry for me. I was born super tough. But I beg you to listen to my message. Slow down, enjoy life, make time for those you love, adore your catch and try to help others — because what happened to me can happen to you in a microsecond. Life is perishable, and that’s what makes it so special.
I am infinitely thankful for a second chance and for my wife’s devotion as well as her “tough love” approach.
I love our sport and the people in it. And in no time, you’ll once again be able to watch me cast a fly, rig a bait and captain a boat on a hot blue marlin. I’m almost there.
Dennis Braid is designing a special harness for me for saltwater fishing. I have no core (torso) strength. My paralysis starts just below my chest. Consequently, most fishing activity pulls me over forward with no control. You want to talk about frustrating? I’m going through absolutely the hardest journey of my life, but I’m up for the challenge. I am continually amazed by how the industry and individuals are willing to help me. Thank you, everyone.

Till next tide, and still absolutely doing it the hard way,

Capt. Tred Barta

P.S. Be amazed at my tenacity. But if it looks like I’m in trouble at your dock, please help me!