Tennessee Wild Rainbow When I started this blog five years ago, my desire for fly fishing far outweighed my ability to catch trout on a fly rod. Anyone who fished with me knew this, and some who fish with me today still agree with those sentiments. This early spring in the southern Appalachians found me …
Tag: Virginia
Poor Valley to Paradise Canyon
Marcus Aurelius, in his Meditations, wrote to do everything with a purpose, to always ask “is this necessary,” and to always remember that death comes to us all - and it comes quickly. I spend a lot of time thinking about this lately - about what consumes my time, what consumes my thoughts, and how …
Two-a-Days in August
Every old athlete remembers August Two-A-Days… those first couple grueling weeks of fall practice in the ninety-degree heat where you pound your body back into physical shape. At the same time, the team is sorting itself out between the individuals and the teammates, the naturally gifted and the physically challenged, and the experienced veterans and …
Finding Old Dominion
Five generations ago, my great-grandfather, Wilford Clark Emery, moved from Culpeper County, Virginia to West Virginia where he fought in the Civil War. My branch of the Emery’s have been there pretty much ever since. Leaving West Virginia nine months ago was like a divorce, like a biblical violation requiring atonement. Even though you hold …
Slow and low…
I haven’t written in months…both because I have not fished and because I haven’t felt I have had words worth reading. Not that life has not been full. There has been some hunting, but nothing memorable. There have been no flies in the vice, no wet waders, no stories to tell. There has just been …
Bookends..
Transitions are predictable if you listen. You can sense them. You can feel them. You can pray for them to come, or for them to delay; but they come at their own pace and in their own way. Look around… life is subtle but it is also predictable for those who pay attention. And so …
Chasing April
What a 35 degree Colorado stream looks like… I am an inept fly fisherman. Let’s get that out of the way as a preface to anything I may ever say or elude to in the future. I make no elusions as to my ability, but rather only to my efforts. As much sarcasm and blame …
Ageless, Lonely, and Beautiful
In Appalachia, sometimes lines on a map are nothing more than that, and the personality of the region spills-over.
Appalachian Mountain Brookies 