Memories, Virginia, and A Thanks
As the water temperatures rise and the herons gobble up the last of the Northwestern PA stocked trout, I can't help but think of the drives to small creeks with Marshall and our flyrods. And as the school year winds down, I remember the frantic end to the teaching year I had in Virginia a few years back. Planning on moving back to our own small farm close to family, we were driving 6.5 hours each way back and forth with job interviews, moving our possessions, and trying to ready the old farm house between visits. This was while trying to soak in the local beauty, say goodbye to friends, and see the historic sites and battlefields the Culpeper area had to offer. Possibly more difficult than that was knowing we were going to say goodbye to wonderful people and places. The town square of Culpeper that puts all other urban blocks I've walked to shame, Athenean's and Kanakal's Bakery and Wise Guys, the Montpelier Wine Festival and Mataponi Dessert Wines, Chancellorsville and Fredericksburg and Salem Church battlefields, Luray Caverns. Nowhere near enough time to explore enough of the Shenandoah National Park to satiate us.
I just wanted to take a moment and thank them all for the memories. Our neighbors, the Smoots, who were always so friendly. Yinz or Y'all became family in our home away from home. You all showed us "Yankees" true southern hospitality. To the staff at PHMS, I miss such a family work environment. Especially R. Cox and C. Bayless, who made living in VA fantastic and leaving it more difficult.
I can't help but think of the cool running waters of Dark Falls, and Connies hair blowing with the windows down on Skyline Drive.
Recently I had received an email from Cox. "2 Years ago today," he wrote with an image attached that I took of him flyfishing on his property near Shenandoah NP. Naked Creek showed me that as long as there are beautiful nowheres, wilds, and waters, I will always feel home. Cox showed me that there are always decent people worthy of trust and friendship. I must have proved something too, why else trust a fellow fisherman with your spot?
My final farewell from Cox and Bayless was spent on a beautiful day as Summer Break started. We packed up and headed to Cox's land to spend a day casting for brookies. Unfortunately, I had already brought back my fly equi
pment up north, so Cox's lent me an old ultralight and some Trout Magnets. Beggars can't be choosers. We fished his stretch and had rarely a bite. I think we landed a few minnows, chubs, and babies to keep ourselves from being skunked. We talked and hiked and then committed a "southern sin" - fished a neighboring lot. Cox secretly had already received permission but wanted to prove that (after all) I was still a demon Yankee with no regard or respect for my fellow man. I knew he wouldn't have suggested it had we not been given a go ahead. He was right though, I would have done what was needed to land a nice brook trout on that special day.
We found a deep hole where the brook trout were schooled. I can't say we caught many, our arms were more sore from casting than from fighting, but it was an excellent send off. While trying to take our farewell photo, I set the timer and ran through the creek. Needless to say there were a few comical images of how I went for a swim that day too.
