After what only seemed like forever, I'm safely tucked away at Rich Margiotta's house in Knoxville, TN. It's after midnight on Monday, which means my plane from Chicago was better than 2.5 hours late. It's hardly a secret that - like a souffle - I don't travel particularly well. In fact, if I wasn't afraid of looking like a complete and utter sissy, I'd probably invent some whiny rationalization why nobody should fish a place they couldn't drive to.
Tomorrow, though, it begins. Rich and I will meet up with Ian and go catch some fish. It's likely these won't be big fish, but it's 100% certain they'll be gorgeous wild fish, and maybe even a few will be native brookies left behind when the last ice age ended.
I just pulled a couple cane rods out of my bag - a pair of Raine hollowbuilts, a Thramer hollowbuilt, and a Beasley-built 50DF for back up. Cane rods are the perfect fishing tools for the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Not to mention they're almost as beautiful as the fish... See you in the park.