January 12, 1998
I have been writing to one particular person on the FF@ list for a while, which is not unusual. I write regularly to several of the listers. But this one told me one day, he was going to send me something to take care of my winter doldrums. This has been a particularly hard winter in Maine, and I think when I wrote him how I was feeling, we had had 5 straight grey, gloomy days. I waited every day for a week for the UPS man to bring me this surprise. To say I was shocked when I opened the box is an understatement!! This kind soul sent me a tying vise. One less excuse to start tying. You know who you are, and once again, thank you.
February 5
Circumstances found me in Minnesota. My son Greg had to undergo surgery for cancer again, and I decided to escape briefly at Bentley's. The first thing I noticed was that Gordon had expanded to include other lines besides Orvis. And he had new salepeople. I looked at a few fly tying things. I got a whip finisher and a hair stacker, and then started looking at the rods. I already have a 4 and 6 wt. I was looking for something smaller, and lighter. I picked up the Thomas and Thomas 3 wt, and it practically screamed to me, buy me, buy me. Gordon and I went out behind the store to practice casting it, and even though I am rusty, I could tell this rod made for me. We looked at reels too, but I wanted to get advice from another friend, so I told Gordon I would be in on Saturday to pay for the rod, and tell him which reel I wanted. Being in the shop really made me want to go and fish.
February 7
I met an IRC friend today for lunch, and it turned out she is also a fly fisher. After a lot of laughs, I finally convinced her I had to go pay for my new gear. I had already called them and told them which reel I wanted, the Hardy lightweight. We somehow managed to convince Andy, the salesman, to show us how to tie a fly. I don't think they will forget our visit for a while, but I did actually tie my very first fly, a nymph. I decided to sign up for a class when I got back to Maine.
February 13, 1998
Today I signed up for the class at LL Bean. Looked through some of my tying books, but decided to wait to get any supplies till after the class.
February 18
Today I made reservations for NEC V. This is a FF@ clave to be held near Lake Placid end of May. I convinced Evelyn to go with me, and made reservations at a cabin near by. I didn't think we were up to camping. This is my new focal point. It's 98 days away, and by then, a lot of things should have happened. My divorce should be final. I should be about ready to move south. Winter will be over. I'll get to meet several of the women from the FF@ list who will be there. It's something to look forward to, and keep me from looking back.
February 21 and 22
My fly tying class is over, and it was a wonderful experience. I learned a lot of basics, and tied 11 different flies. It was definitely worth the time and money, and I would recommend it to anyone. It was also a LOT of fun. There were seven of us, including one other woman. The instructor was patient, and good at explaining and demonstrating. Here's how it went.
I actually got up to the alarm clock. I got dressed, ate breakfast and drove up to Freeport, and arrived in plenty of time. I knew where the class was going to be held, and went in. We had name tags, which I find very helpful. We each had a box of tools, a vice, and a menu to use for ordering lunch. When everyone was there, Pat, the instructor, welcomed us and we learned a bit about the tools. Our first fly was a wooly worm. I wrote down all the steps in my notebook, so I wouldn't forget. At first we were all intent on learning, and there was little discussion. Then we tied a wooly bugger. We did a second one for extra practice, and in my usual know it all attitude, I left out one step. I hid that fly from the group. With each new fly, a new technique was added. The next fly was the Griffith's Gnat. I liked that one a lot, as it was easy to tie. Then we broke for lunch, and started to get to know each other. Back to the business at hand. We moved on to a Mickey Finn, Hornberg and Black Ghost. The time flew by. I couldn't wait till tomorrow.
Sunday, I was well rested, and anxious to keep learning. That day we tied a hare's ear nymph, red squirrel nymph,elk hair caddis and Adams. We ended up tying a Clouser's minnow, which in my opinion is not a fly. But the group relaxed a bit, and there was a lot of joking and teasing. I wasn't the first one to swear. Though I did, on the Adams. And I never gave up in the middle of a fly, like one of the men did. I decided to buy the materials to tie elk hair caddises at home after the class ended. The other one I felt successful with was the hare's ear nymph. Lunch was a fun break, and most of us wandered down to the fly fishing section of the store. Without a doubt, the most difficult fly was the Adams. My first attempt looked ok, except somehow, I lost one of the wings. The second one, I concentrated on the wings, and really messed up on the body. But I bet that one will catch fish.
Last, we tied the clouser minnow. That really was an easy fly to tie. Big hook, no specific arrangement of materials. While it was fun, I would have rather tried one more Adams.
Before we left, Pat gave us each a box with one each of the flies we had tied. Tied probably by him, or taken from the store. I feel confident that I can now tie these flies, and other ones based on the skills I learned. I just need to set up a place to tie, and buy several hundred dollars worth of supplies. I plan on doing a little tying every day, or at least once a week.
March 11
I bought my Maine fishing license today. The season opens on April 15,
but why wait till the last minute?
May 13
I finally did it. Went fishing that is. I have been talking about going
almost every weekend, and on days I don't have class, but I have talked
myself out of going each time. The sun finally came out yesterday, after almost
2 weeks of rain and grey and fog, but I was a good girl and went to my
class. I just put on my fishing pants, my fishing shirt, grabbed my vest,
my 6 wt and a half dozen flies and set off. I have this book, called
Fishing Maine's Rivers and Streams and after some wavering, I headed
off towards Cornish and the Saco River. I sort of knew where I was going,
and eventually, found a nice spot just on the other side of a bridge. I
ended up trying 3 of the 4 sides available. The first there was no way to
get down. The second, I got to the river, but after about half an hour, and
looking across to a nice grassy, calm area, I gave up. I spent about an
hour on the grassy side, but had no luck there either. I used some of the
flies I had tied myself, but I don't think that was the reason I didn't even
get a nibble. I didn't see any fish rising, though there were insects on the
water. After a while, I used the time for practicing my casting, since
NEC is only 2 weeks away. It was nice to know I could still cast. I walked
back to my car with a great feeling of satisfaction.
May 28-31
This was the weekend I had used as my focal point for more than
3 months. I knew I would be with Evelyn, plus when I decided to go,
back in February, my life was a lot more unsettled than it is now.
Even though that is hard to believe. I picked NEC as the first
clave to attend because I knew several of the women who would be
there. Especially since claves are where men smoke big cigars and
drink scotch. Neither of which I do. NEC V was a blast. I met
some wonderful people, had some great fishing, and LOTS of fun.
When I first joined the FF@ list, almost a year ago, I had no idea what a clave was. Even as I was driving there, I had no idea what to expect. I had exchanged several emails with Chris Knight, one of the clavemeisters and also to a few other listers on what to expect. I had read reports from other listers who reported back from other claves on what they had been like. I had looked at the web page Chris had created, with information on the Clave. I had convinced my daughter, Evelyn, to go with me . We set out for the Lake Placid area on Thursday, ready for anything. Instead of camping out, we were going to stay in a cabin about 5 miles away. The drive out was beautiful, driving through Maine, New Hampshire and Vermont, until we reached the Adirondacks. We listened to A River Runs Through It as a book on tape. I checked it out of the library, thinking it would get us in the mood for a long weekend of fly fishing.
Our first stop was Jones Outfitters, to get our licenses. And we got a few *sure fire* flies. Then we checked into our cabin, and headed out to fish. We picked a spot along the West Branch of the Au Sable, and fished for a while, until Evelyn managed to "catch" the bandana she had on her head. Neither of us caught anything, but it was ok. My casting is still as bad as ever, but I think I am improving. A little. I didn't know what the deal was for the Clave, so we didn't go to the campground that night. We did sleep well though.
Friday morning, we got ready to go to the river again. Tried a different spot from the night before. Evelyn caught a 7 inch trout, but as usual, the fish ignored me..... .oh well. When we were leaving, and taking off our gear, a car pulled up by us, and two men asked us how the fishing was. I noticed their license plate was from Virginia, so I asked if they were with the FF@ group, and they were. I met Mike Horowitz and Claude Freaner, and they said to go on over to the campground. That someone was always hanging around the Slum tent. So, we did. The early afternoon is not the best time to fly fish, so there was a group hanging around. We met Chris, who was just as nice as I knew he would be. And Danny Walls, the list owner, and his wife, Peggy. Then Brenda Sharpe came over, and after writing to her for months, we finally met. Brenda and I started writing after she had visited my website, and wrote me how much she enjoyed this diary. I also met Jerry Caruso, another friend I've exchanged email with for a while. Of course, since Chris was there, it rained a little. I also met Wendy White, another woman I know from the FF@ list fairly well. I was looking for Stephen DiCerbo, to pick up our official Clave t-shirts. Just as I was going to walk over to his tent, he and Kat Cruickshank came over to the Slum tent. The shirts are so beautiful, that if you didn't order one, you really missed out.
I had taught Evelyn how to tie flies a little at home, but since I'm left handed, I didn't want to teach her how to tie backwards. Chris and Blair Sharpe gave Evelyn some pointers, and she is now ready to start tying on her own. Chris had a HUGE cigar in his mouth, a gift from Danny. It looked as though he was going to use it to trim his flies. (Well, it did, Chris.. it was very phallic) After a while, we left, and went back out to fish. We tried a new different spot, and fished for a few hours. It was much flatter and sandier than the other places. I could see the fish rising, but no matter what i did, I couldn't land one. I did have two strikes, that I didn't hook. The bugs were terrible, so about 15 minutes before dark we quit. Again, as we were taking our gear off, we ran into other clavers. This time it was Chris and Jim Tefft. They had better luck than we did, but that was because we got the fish warmed up for them. We went back to the campground and just hung around meeting and talking to people. I didn't meet everyone. There were just too many people there. Finally, we left and headed back to the cabin.
Saturday morning was beautiful. Once again we headed out, and stopped at a part of the river just above some falls. I wanted to fish the rocky part below the falls, and Evelyn wanted to fish the smooth part above. As I was climbing down the bank to the smooth side, I tripped on a root and twisted my knee. I didn't realize how badly at first, and we fished for about 2 hours. I ended up sitting on a rock at the side of the river, and Evelyn decided enough was enough as she was bitten by the bugs mercilessly. Walking back to the car, I realized how sore I was. We went to town, and picked up a watermelon for the pot luck dinner. I had made brownies, but didn't think that was enough.
There was this interesting looking fly shop on the road towards the cabin, and each time we drove past it, I said one of these times, we will have to stop. It seemed to always be open, and had a larger than life painting of a scantily clad female on the storefront. We stopped in, and met Fran Betters, who is a legend in that area. He was sitting there, tying flies and telling tales. While we looked around, he tied about a dozen flies. He showed Evelyn and me how he tied nymphs, and gave us each one of the ones he just tied.
We went back to the campground, and spent some time with Luis Nasim, the other clavemeister.. He had two big photo albums of past claves. Chris was going to get an hour of fishing in before having to fix his dish, so he took Evelyn with him. I stayed and talked with Luis and Ben Benoit. Then slowly, everyone started straggling in. I was helping Luis make his hamburgers when Chris and Evelyn came back. They didn't have any luck either. I can't quite explain what happened next. John Drendel started his south African-jewish chicken. Bill Barnard brought over his venison stew. Mike and Claude were whipping up taco fixings. Dave McFall brought this delicious appetizer which seemed to vanish in 5 seconds. Blair was fixing some kind of curry dish. There was lots of talking, laughing, working and sharing.
I had a little bit of everything. Everyone tried to give me large spoonfuls of their specialty, but I know my limits. I loved everything I tried. Then came the raffle. I had donated a Sage t-shirt, which I bought but then I didn't buy a Sage rod. John Drendel was great as the raffle MC. Everyone got half a ticket, which Luis said was left over from the first NEC. I won a box of flies, which I wish I knew who tied. Evelyn won Blake Werner's gift, a tie with flies on it, and two fish pillowcases. Blake came over to apologize that the pillow cases were not cut on the bias, and his wife wanted to let whoever won them know that. I thought they were cute. Some of the prizes were pretty embarrassing, some useful. But everyone had a good time. Some of the raffle items were misplaced, including the t-shirt I donated. We left since it was very late, and we weren't too interested in watching the guys drink, smoke their cigars and tie flies. Well, maybe the tying.
Waking up Sunday morning I realized again how sore my knee was. And as the weather looked very threatening. We had decided to head back, instead of staying over the night, and someone from the office came to tell us that area was under a tornado warning till 3 pm. That made our decision all the wiser. We checked out, and headed over to the campground to say goodbye. Several people had already left. Chris was packing up, trying to get everything in his car before the rain started. I saw Blake wearing my Sage t-shirt, so I guess the misplaced raffle items were found and given out. Chris was going to cook up breakfast for those people still around, and like the rest of the weekend, it was impromptu and fun. Sheldon Seale ended up helping cook the eggs, and all the food disappeared like magic. I hugged some of the people good bye, and we headed back to Maine. I had a wonderful time meeting new friends. I can't wait till next year, because you can bet Evelyn and I will be back. We listened to the last tape of A River Runs Through It, and even though I know the end, it still made me cry. I'm glad my daughter is here to share fly fishing with me, and I know it we will have many more opportunities to fly fish and laugh and share together.
September 11-3
Once I had decided to go to the NEG (Northeast Georgia) Clave (short for conclave), I knew I was going to have some new experiences and lots of fun. I hadn't been fly fishing since the end of May, when I went to Lake Placid, NY for the clave there. This clave is smaller in numbers attending, but was no less fun. I saw some people I had met at the Lake Placid clave, met some people I had corresponded with for months, and some people I didn't know from the fly fishing @ list.
I wrote down my list of things to do during my Wednesday night class. I had to get some things at the store. I had to go through my fly fishing gear. I had to bake brownies for the pot luck dinner on Saturday night. I had to pack, and be all ready to leave first thing Friday morning. I love making lists, and feel so good crossing off the things I accomplish. I remembered to pack the directions to the park, and I had frozen lots of ice cubes for the cooler.
The alarm went off on Friday morning, and I got up, showered and off I went. I was heading west on I-40 to Greensboro, a road I had previously been on two times. But then I turned on to I-85, and my adventure was starting. This was previously uncharted territory for me. Ok.. it was all interstate, but it was new to me. I didn't get to see Charlotte, as it must be a good ways off the highway. Suddenly, I was entering South Carolina. Normally, it would be no big deal. However, South Carolina was one of the three states I had never been to, besides Alaska and Louisiana. I haven't been to a new state in years. It was very exciting to me. I know I have a very boring life. I stopped at the tourist information center and got a map, and went on my way.
I passed a truck I knew to be carrying some sort of animals. I realized it was a shipment of pigs when I saw snouts sticking out the air holes of the truck. It made a comical picture, and I wished I had someone I could have shared it with. I saw the giant peach water tower in Gaffney, SC. I got off the highway at exit 19B, and followed the orange tiger claws painted on the highway towards Clemson University. Soon I was on the small state highway leading to the park. I couldn't find the campsite, so I went to the office and got directions, as well as looked at their little museum. There on display, was one of Teddy Roosevelt's flyrods. And they offered me an apple, before I left. I was glad I had to stop.
Finally, I found campsite 29. The first person I saw was Danny, who I had met at the Lake Placid Clave and is the list owner. Then I met Doc, who invited me to share his tent for the weekend. Doc is a real character. We started corresponding back in October of last year, and write each other on an almost daily basis. It was he who, when I complained about the grey and cold of Maine's winter, said he was sending me a little surprise in the mail, to cheer me up. The little surprise turned out to be a tying vise, and so then I had to learn how to tie flies. I met Steve, and Mike, who didn't know it yet, but was going to help tutor me that weekend. I had brought my big blue law book with me, so I could study for the exam facing me that Monday night. Doc, Mike and I went off in one car to go fishing up on the river. I don't believe I was ever told the name of it, though I'm sure I could look it up. Doc felt a sense of responsibility for me, so he and I went one way, and Mike went off with Steve and Danny, who had followed us in a different truck. I said car earlier, but that was in error. I was the only one with a car. Everyone else had a truck or sport utility vehicle.
This was my first time to try my new fly rod. I had picked it up at my favorite fly shop back in Minnesota, and had to have it. It's a 3 weight, 7 and a half foot Thomas and Thomas. It casts like a dream. Even when I'm doing the casting, and my casting stinks. Doc had already been fishing there a few times, since he got there the day before. And the fishing was terrible. It didn't matter what we tied on the end of our tippet. The water was low. The water temperature was too low. The trout that were there, just weren't interested. At first I tried a woolly bugger. Nothing. Doc was watching me, and offered me some suggestions on my casting. He was afraid he would hurt my feelings, but I am not sensitive about my skills. Mainly, because I lack them. He gave me some good pointers, and patiently corrected my casts, till I felt I had made some progress. Then he put his flyline on my rod, just to see how it would feel. It seemed to have a little more distance to it, as it was a heavier weight line. I practiced just the arm motions, without getting my fly in the water. I could definitely tell the difference, and felt a lot more confident in my ability to cast further and to the spot I wanted to hit. It was starting to get dark, so we got out of the water. I had wet waded, so i was soaked above the waist. Wimp that he is, he wore his waders. For only the second time, we were approached by a game warden. He wanted to see our licenses. We both had them, of course, since the penalty for not having one is several hundred dollars. He told us the fishing had been bad for a while, and told us some stories about his dealings with people he met.
We climbed back up to the car, to get out of our boots and start to dry off. In a few minutes, Mike, Steve and Danny were there. They had had no luck either. Danny is known for getting skunked at claves, but not Steve. He apparently is quite successful. We all headed back to the campground for the evening feast. Tonight it was Doc and Steve's turn to feed us. Doc made some sort of marinated Korean meat dish, and Steve a fried rice with chicken dish. Yummmm. By that time, other attendees had arrived. I met Donald, who I wrote to off and on, and Scott. Scott had a girl with him. Now, I was under the impression he was going to be there with another woman from the list, Michelle. I looked over at this woman, and waited for her to notice me, so we could embrace and finally meet each other. For some reason, I hesitated, and I was so relieved I had. It was not Michelle, but his girlfriend Regina. I was polite to Scott, but really wanted to find out why Michelle was not there. I had to wait till I got home, and emailed her. Regina did not like the idea of Michelle going, and had made a big fuss. Oh well. I will meet her another time. It is fun putting faces to the people who's emails you have read for over a year. I feel I made some very good friends at this clave, just as I did at the Lake Placid one.
After dinner, as tradition (though where this tradition started, no one knows) has it, bottles of alcoholic beverages were produced as were cigars. I partook in neither, but listened to the conversations going on about me. The booze at Lake Placid was more plentiful and more varied, but there were also almost 60 people there, versus about 15 at this clave. No one ever started tying, which surprised me. Finally, around midnight, I went to bed. It didn't take me long to fall asleep on my air mattress, even with the men still shooting the breeze right outside the tent.
I heard Doc get up, but saw it was still dark, and rolled over. Eventually, the laughter from over at Mike's tent got too loud to ignore, and I woke up. It was 8:30, and I was almost too late for Mike's wife's, Diane, infamous Belgian waffles. I had heard about them from the list, and from people at the Lake Placid clave. She sets up several waffle irons, and just keeps cooking them. They were good too. Diane and Peggy, Danny's wife, were going to a small town just south to look at antiques that morning. I decided to go with them, to give Doc a chance to go out with the men. I knew I would get a chance to go fishing in the afternoon.. While Diane and Peggy cleaned up, I used the time to study. I really did. Got my textbook out, my notes and read and studied them. Finally, when my brain was about full of legal motions, they were ready to go.
It was a warm day, and the town of Walhalla was a two block main street. There were several antique shops though, and the three of us spent a few hours wandering in and out of the stores. I knew I wouldn't be buying anything, not having any money nor the room in my car to carry it home. Being with Diane reminded me of how I used to be. Mike is a corporate attorney. She just had the air of a woman who could buy anything she wanted. She didn't seem happy though. She is getting ready to go for two weeks to Ireland and he is going for the same time period to Montana. It was none of my business though. She is funny and the three of us had a good time. Peggy is very sweet and friendly, and more down to earth. She gets dragged to a lot of these claves, because Danny is the listowner, and really likes meeting the listers. By the time we got back to the campground, I felt I had made two more friends, and was ready to go hit the stream.
Mike and Harold were going, so i tagged along with them. We hiked in from a different place, to where that morning some of the guys had actually seen fish in the water. Not realizing I was lefthanded, Mike suggested i wade across the stream with him, and fish just a bit upstream of him. Eventually I worked my way to the middle of the river (which i know now is the Chattooga) so i could cast more easily. I was using a dry fly, not that what fly anyone was using would have made a difference. I could tell my casting was much better, i had better distance and accuracy. Harold had gone a bit further down the river, and eventually I saw him getting out of the water. I started wading back to the side, and Mike got out, and we walked back to the car, all three of us dripping. I, of course, was the wettest, having gotten in over my waist again. I just love wet wading.
Back at the campground, the preparations for the evening's festivities were starting. Doc was gathering raffle prizes. Donald started preparing his famous jambalaya. Danny was fixing some sort of soy sauce chicken dish. Everyone was sitting around, talking and munching. I was thinking about my afternoon on the water, and how beautiful it had been. The trees were reflecting down on the water, which was almost quite still. My fly sure seemed to sit still. But when the water did move, when a fly was cast, or Mike or I took a step, the ripples made the reflection seem almost surreal. That is what I love best about fishing. Being in nature, in the water, at total peace with myself. The sky was such a deep blue, what little you could see through the tall trees. With just small wisps of clouds. The leaves closer to the sky a lighter shade of green, than the ones nearer to the water, even though they probably were all the same color. Just a trick of the light and eyes. I was noticing the leaves at the campground. It was getting darker, at least where we were, because of the trees hiding the sun. Later, when it was dark, I looked up, and saw the stars. Not like in the city, where you can see only the brightest ones. All the stars. Millions of them. Sort of puts reality into perspective.
Soon, the aromas from the cooking were filling the air along with the cigar smoke and laughter and talking among friends. I ate more than i should have, but so did everyone else. Donald's jambalaya, in my opinion, could have been spicier, but he said he had to take into consideration everyone's tastebuds. It still was delicious. Danny's chicken dish was excellent, too. I sat with Peggy off to the side, while everyone ate. It's hard being the only woman at a clave who isn't a wife. I am not one of the boys, yet I don't fit in with the women exactly.
Now it was time for the evening's highlight. The Raffle. Everyone brought a raffle gift, but Doc and Steve had done a lot of soliciting for extra gifts. The FF@ list was of course hit up, and the usual group came through, though there were some surprises. I had donated a pheasant's skin, which I bought here in Raleigh. Doc kept saying, oh, just tie up some flies... and i kept telling him, no one wanted any flies I tied. Everyone put in $5 for the FF@ Youth Fund, and got a ticket in return. Unlike at Lake Placid, where the raffle took almost all night, this was a much shorter event. Thank goodness. The first prize Doc offered was my pheasant skin, and I was glad that Donald won it. My prize was a dozen flies from Walt Whitman. Yup.. that's his name. Nice young man. He later told me he bought them, since he didn't have the time to tie them. It was just fine with me. The one prize I really wanted, Steve won. It was a Lake Placid clave t-shirt. I had one. But it was in the box the moving company lost. At least Evelyn has one. Steve wouldn't trade for it, the meanie. Well, I also wanted one of Claude's beaded trout, but he donates them to every clave, so I knew there would be a chance to get one later. The shirt..... well.. there just aren't any left. I think we went through all the numbers at least 7 times. I got 6 packages of feathers, a forceps, a book (which I traded to Steve, even though he was being selfish), a fly box, and an autographed article by Harrison Steeves. There was more, but I can't remember, and then Doc gave me some things he had won and didn't want. It was a lot of fun and everyone came away happy. Now i have to decide what to do about Tenn Clave.
I was tired, and it had been a long day. I don't know why no one ever got out their tying materials, but it just didn't happen. I could hear the men tell tall tales, lying on the air mattress in the tent. Colonel Ben was in rare form, and i laughed to myself as he told about going to the hospital in some hick town to get a fly (16 bwo) out of his thumb. Eventually, I drifted off, and had a not so good night's sleep. In the morning, it was time to take everything down. I got my belongings out of the tent, and put them in my car, which had been sandwiched all weekend, between the Ray's Jeeps. I sat down by Ben's trailer, and talked a while. Doc didn't need my help, and I felt sort of useless. No one was going to try their hand at fishing that morning. Why undertake such a futile endeavor? So I decided to leave. I hugged everyone goodbye. I knew I would be seeing most, if not all of them, in a month at Tenn Clave.
I took a different route home. Up 107 to Cashiers, turn right on US 64 through Brevard and onto I-26 to I-40. It was longer, but I enjoyed it more. The scenery was breathtaking. The leaves are unfortunately starting to turn. Not because of the temperature, but because of the lack of rain. I had planned to stop and fish the Davidson near Brevard, but I woke up sniffling, and didn't want to wet wade again, and have to change my clothes on the highway. Besides, I reasoned the water was no higher there than in SC. I did do one thing on the drive back. It was election time and in Transylvania county, there were signs all over for the different candidates. I couldn't help myself, but I stole one. Bobby Orr for Sheriff. I know it's not the same Bobby Orr (Hall of Famer ex Boston Bruins defenseman #4). Had it been Bob Orr, I could have resisted. I guess now I can't ever go back to Transylvania County. At least not with the sign in my car. I liked Brevard. It's the kind of town I'm hoping to move to after school. And Hendersonville was nice. I didn't stop and look around, as I was more tired than I thought. I even skipped Asheville. I stopped later and had lunch, and that seemed to revive me. I made it back home by 4 pm. Unloaded the car. Downloaded my 311 emails. Called my children. And was glad I had gone, glad I had done something fun for the weekend. And then I opened my textbooks, and got back into reality. Till the next clave or next time I'm on the stream, where nothing bothers me.
October 3-4
Tenn Clave
I won't say too much about Tenn Clave. It was kind of a disaster. I forgot my boots, it
was chilly and damp, and I only fished the one time and left the next day. The good part was I
got another NEC V shirt. I weaseled it out of Doc. The dinner was great, I got to meet the infamous
Stephen Hiner, and in retrospect, I guess I am glad I went.
At last this diary is continued. Please click here to read about my fly fishing exploits in the year 2006.
Any comments or suggestions will be appreciated. Send me some email and tell me what you think.