Let me be clear: I did virtually everything I should have done beforehand. The rod was stored disassembled, in it’s sock, in it’s tube, sealed. Nothing was applied to the male ferrule. No paraffin, no candle wax, and definitely no nose grease. I know that there are different sides to this debate, but rod makers I’ve personally talked with have advocated the position of “just keep it clean.”

Regardless of any proactive steps I did or didn’t take, the rod was still stuck. Time travel is, for better or for worse, off the table.

Of course, I just tried to pull it apart. Think of how often you break down your rod without any issue. A firm grip on either side of the joint usually does it – and does it unremarkably. I encountered resistance. And this is when I knew my rod was, in some way, stuck.

Step two was a more deliberate version of just pulling. I tucked the butt of the rod into my left armpit and grabbed below the ferrule with my left hand. My right hand grabbed above the ferrule joint, and I pulled hard and straight. Usually this method, with a bit more power and bracing, unsticks over-tightened ferrules. This didn’t make a difference.

I moved on to a more intensive measure, which is actually hardly intensive. All I did was sit down with my rod behind my knees. I grabbed either side of the ferrule. With my arms outside my knees, I moved my legs apart to exert strong and even pressure. When I thought I was close to bursting a blood vessel, I stopped.

At this point I called  for my loving, supportive wife. She’s helped me with this problem before, so she knew the drill. We both held on to the rod, with each of us grasping  on either side of the ferrule. It looked like this: my left, her right, the ferrule joint, my right, her left. Making sure no one was pushing against a guide, we pulled. This almost always works. So much so, that I often jump to this step if someone else is around. When it didn’t immediately pop, I knew that I was going to have to get creative.

Sore hands and growing frustration made the next step simple. I put the rod somewhere cool and dry, and let it sit. It was humid when I was fishing, and it was humid in my house. Just letting the metal and the bamboo rest might contract things enough where I could give it another whirl tomorrow. Plus, there is no sense in jerking at it any more, potentially damaging the rod (or my muscles).

After resting the rod and once more going through the aforementioned methods to separate it to no avail, I pulled out a bag of frozen corn. Laying the frozen corn on the ferrule, I was trying to cool down and contract the male end just slightly. After ten minutes – and carefully avoiding contacting anything but the metal with the frozen veggies – I rubbed the outer ferrule a little to warm it up slightly. Then, I tried to pull. Honestly, I had a lot of confidence. This has always worked when necessary. Today? Nothing.

There are other methods. Heat. Vices. Chemicals. I trust them, but I don’t trust myself with them. So I contacted a rodmaker. I’ll leave my rod where it is, and head out there sometime in the next few weeks. He might need to employ extreme,  intensive measures. But I trust him more than I trust myself.

Story developing…