In anticipation of welcoming another baby into the family I was up in the attic. I rummaged through boxes and tubs, looking for stuff that I know I’ve packed, think I’ve seen, but am completely unaware of where any of it might be.

Everyone knows that the quickest way between two points looks good on paper. It is rarely the path that is chosen. Attics and garages are great distraction factories. Sent into one of these places to accomplish task A, I will inevitably get jobs X, Y, and Z done quickly. A, on the other hand, will require a few trips to Home Depot and I’ll probably wrap it up next month.

The vast majority of my fishing gear is accessible and very well organized. The aforementioned baby stuff might be temporarily misplaced, but I know where my back up nippers and extra set of wading sandals are at all times. Tax information from this past year is spread out over four or five locations, I think. But if you need to borrow my third six-weight, I can tell you precisely where it sits – including which rods are on either side of it.

Still, there are a few things that get put away. There are a handful of pieces of gear that, for one reason or another, have a home in a less remarkable spot. For example, there is a box in the attic. It contains some ice fishing gear, bags and bags of soft plastics, an old net, and my neoprene waders.

When purchased, the neoprene waders were a welcome addition to my arsenal. As a teenager, I was done fishing in the winter sans waders after a few attempts. Duck boots do a great job… up to your ankles. After that, you might as well be barefoot. Neither option is ideal.

Neoprene waders where an economical game changer. Sure, I got hot in them. Then I got sweaty. Then I got cold. But somehow all of that was better than being wet and cold by itself.

After a few years, I upgraded. I got some entry level breathable waders. These days I’m in fancy ones that would probably wick away the moisture I’d produce if I was in a sauna. The neoprenes stuck around. I’d give them to someone who was joining me in the winter. Random circumstances, such as working in melting snow, brought them out from time to time. They have been moved from state to state to state for nearly twenty years.

Now they’re hanging from a rafter in my attic. They should still fit. I have maybe grown a few inches since high school. Thankfully, I have maybe grown out only a few inches too. There is one patch, on the heel, that has held fast. I’ve got plenty of room in my attic.

This is exactly the kind of thing that I would get rid of, but then regret getting rid of. It isn’t like they’re hanging in my bedroom. They’re in an attic. They’re in good shape. They’re useful. It isn’t a wader catalog from 1998. It isn’t a pair of ripped up waders. If anything, the heavyweight hippers hanging next to them ought to go. (But they’re like new!) Those neoprene waders and I have been on plenty of adventures.

Plus, I’m going to give duck hunting a shot this season.  And it gets awfully cold up here in New England. That ice fishing gear could come in handy, too. Come to think of it, that box ought to be moved to a more accessible spot in the attic…