Book in the waiting
Yes, I do have a book that is written and unedited. I have been holding it for awhile and adding to it. I am doing the same with two others. One is about flies and the other is about Tailwaters. I will eventually slow down from guiding and flytying and get serious with publishing.
I have never done this before and as I said it is unedited, so don't grade it. This is the opening 1st and 2nd paragraphs to the book called "Walking the Dream". It is an autobiography of my life as far as the flyfishing aspect goes, and it walks the reader through the enjoyment of growing up in East Tennessee and learning the beautiful and addicting sport of flyfishing. It continues on through my adult years and into the art of flytying and then professional guiding. It has been a beautiful experience and I hope that it touches many people as it has me to be in the center of such a fulfilling walk in life.
Bud!-- Bud! Come in for a minute. I have something to tell you. What is it, mother? Your dad wants you to catch some grasshoppers from the field across the road. What is dad going to do with grasshoppers? He is going to go trout fishing and he wants you to catch some small or medium-sized ones. I'll get some, mother. I'll need a jar, and I'll need to put some holes in the lid. Can I go fishing too? No, there are snakes up there in the mountains and you might get lost. But, I want to go, too! He will take you when he goes to the river or the lake. You will have to wait a few years before you go to the mountains. What kinds of fish are in the mountains? He is going to fish for trout. I've never seen a trout, mother. What do they look like? They are very pretty, son. Your dad wants the grasshoppers so that he can go fishing early in the morning.
That was my first introduction to trout fishing, and I was about 5 years old at the time. I went across the road from my house in Newport, Tennessee, and within a half-hour, I had caught about 15-20 grasshoppers. This was at a time that using live bait was legal in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. As soon as my dad came home, I found out that he was going to Big Creek, which is right on the Tennessee/North Carolina border. The next morning I did not get to fish, but we were taken up to the Big Creek campgrounds. It was drizzling rain all day. In this campground, I was to learn about a little critter called a Dominekker Gnat. The gnats came in droves and literally ate us up. I had whelks on me for days and I scratched endlessly. What an introduction! My dad would go fishing numbers of times in the mountains for trout, but I was never able to go with him. He did take me fishing in the French Broad and Pigeon Rivers as well as Douglas Lake. He probably knew that as a child, I could not safely make my way along the streams, so he chose a safer area to introduce me to fishing. I would see and hear from neighbors, who lived around me, about their mystical trips to the mountains, and I would see the results of trips, as they would bring their ice coolers in and show what they had caught. The fish were so delicate and beautiful.