You reach across time and hold creation in your hand, as peaceful and simple as it ever was. Such naturalism is therapeutic in a world full of artificial gizmos connecting us to every other asshole out there.
The best fishing trips are like that, and East Tennessee is perfectly suited for them. Between the rhododendron and the moonshine, there’s enough untamed wildness in man and land for even the stodgiest son of a bitch to break free from the confines of everyday life. In three days of fishing small creeks in the Tellico River Basin, you create a mountain of memories ranging from beautiful wild trout to hangovers that left us tying flies to our fingers. You remember your best fish and the hours between what pass for hatches. You know you caught decent fish and were even vain enough to take pictures of them. But what matters most was going out with two buddies on one last trip before the central cog moved away.
Despite its small stature, the bounty of this water far exceeds any basket of fish. It’s the threatening unfamiliarity of this water that yields the greatest rewards. The mixed bag of memories and hazy omissions more than make up for the lack of hero shots to show your secretary.