“WOW! Did you see that Barbie on the rock and there was a timber rattler right under her!” The young man ran up to me, sweaty, flushed, with wild eyes. The young woman with him looked calm. “Man, it was so cool.”
I figured it was probably a garter snake. Or a stick on a ledge. And Barbie? Probably a fairy vision brought on by ingesting a white-spotted red mushroom…the ones that make you fly. But I thanked him and walked on up as they walked down the trail.
Didn’t see Barbie or a snake on these rocks.
Of course, the entire walk was spent looking for Barbie sitting on a rock and naturally, a timber rattler. Even though the trail is very wide—wide enough for a large pickup truck to drive up as it’s an old roadbed—I kept a close watch for the snake.
As I walked, I thought about his suspected hallucination and how it seems our society is living a massive hallucination. What if what we think really is our reality? Then the dude was actually seeing Barbie and a rattlesnake even if I never saw her or her slithery friend. But there was nobody to join in his hallucination so it was relatively harmless. But the bigger hallucinations—those can get scary and bring a lot of chaos or maybe we could all dream up calm and peace.
No Barbie or snake here.
It wasn’t the most relaxing walk. I was picking up beer bottles, plastic wrappers, cigarette butts and while the flowing water was clear and clean and beautiful, I kept thinking about Barbie and her fanged-friend.
No snake or Barbie here either
How much time do we spend on fear generated by someone else’s hallucinations? How do we, as a society, become so sure of things that perhaps aren’t even real? And what makes them real anyway? Maybe something is ‘real’ only if enough people believe it in their minds.
I have no answers to these far-out questions. For late afternoon, there were many people out walking. A mushroom eater (?) and a lot of larger groups who refused to yield the way. I could step off the trail and fall down a very steep slope or worse step on that timber rattler or I could clear my side of the trail. So I started swinging my bag of trash like a priest swinging an incense censer to cleanse a holy place. It worked. I don’t need to explain any of the similarities.
It became quite obvious, by the end of the walk, why I prefer to walk at sunrise…before the crowds and kooks arrive. And by the way, I’m super-disappointed that I didn’t get a photo of Barbie and the monstrous timber rattler frolicking.
It’s a sensation that is birthed at the core of my being and moves through my body and mind. I used to find it diving—being in neutral buoyancy, surrounded by water, contained by an ocean or freshwater spring or underwater cave. But it’s been a while since I’ve been diving…selling a home, moving, the plague has redirected my pursuit of deep peace but it’s still with water.
I walked up the trail a mile and a half before exchanging my trail shoes for fly fishing boots. At some point during the wading and casting I paused, seeking something…what am I missing, I wondered. Within a moment I knew…that deep peace that finds me as I merge into blissful Oneness with creek, rocks, trees, fish. Ah…yes. It will come.
I intentionally slowed my wading, created longer pauses in casting, spent more time watching the surface and soon that delicious feeling began to move through me—the return of a cherished friend.
From the first time I cast a line and watched a rainbow trout wiggle its tail and spit the hook, I knew I was hooked. I have been in the water with humpback whales and photographed them and learned from them. I’ve been with a large pod of wild spotted dolphins that befriended me and played with me, but these trout are no lesser teacher and guide than my cetacean family.
Often while wading I am grateful for my yoga practice that helps strengthen my legs and improve my balance. The rocks are slippery, the water is rushing past, the bottom is uneven, so every experience of fly fishing is a yoga practice…slow movement, balance, breathing, connecting with something greater than myself.
It can be seductive to analyze it, to categorize it, but the ultimate outcome is that I feel really good after connecting with deep peace. At first, I thought it was the neoprene smell of waders or wading socks that reminded me of diving. And that might be a trigger, but the real reason I love fly fishing so much is that it opens a doorway to profound peace, just like diving. It’s my meditation, yoga, mindfulness and Oneness practice.
I love to walk at a very beautiful place in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. I go there regularly and have started picking up trash there because the first mile of trail is used by tubers on the creek and they are really being litter bugs this year. It’s been horrible to see the trash they leave behind.
Yesterday I picked up five bags of litter in that mile and today I thought there wouldn’t be as much. There wasn’t until I got to a popular viewing area. There I found a mound of trash…but it was from someone taking it out of the creek. And they had other piles created from their efforts along the creek.
While I was so happy that others are taking an interest in keeping our beautiful creek/trail clean, I wondered if humans would ever wake up. Can they not see the beauty they are trashing? And it led to this question: What is your message to the Earth? What do your actions say? And I put it to a favorite song in this little video.
We stood at the edge of Humble Hole, the place where big trout hover suspended in the cool waters of the Davidson River and watch as your fly floats by…dry, nymph it doesn’t really matter. This might frustrate many fly fishers; for me seeing those fat fish relaxed, unspooked by the fly line or movement of the two humans on the bank was beautiful to behold. After all, I’m not there to catch fish—I’m there to witness beauty. And those trout magi are the wise elders. Except that day the other human was also a wise elder in the art of fly fishing.
The largest fish hatchery in NC is located at the Pisgah Center for Wildlife Education. They raise rainbow, brook and brown trout. It’s open to the public every day except Sundays….and worth the visit.
The past two mornings were spent at the Pisgah Center for Wildlife Education near Brevard, North Carolina. I took part in a women’s fly fishing school presented by the North Carolina Wildlife Commission. They have various fly fishing offerings that include a kid’s program, casting classes, fly tying. Our two day school included the basics of fly fishing and casting on day one and fishing with a river wisdom keeper on day two.
Steve was my mentor for the morning. I learned so much and improved my casting a lot.
I call these volunteers river wisdom keepers because they offer their experience and expertise as fly fishers to those wanting to learn. Veterans of being snubbed by trout, they offer solace to those of us eager to learn how we, too, can be humbled by a rainbow or brown or brook. But they gift us with so much more. After all, fly fishing is creating art while fishing.
It’s good to know what nymphs are living in the place where you are fishing. Steve shows me a nymph that looks like the pheasant tail fly that I’ve caught a lot of fish on in my endeavors thus far.
There are many elements to fly fishing…selection of the fly or flies to use (dry fly, nymph, streamer), tippet length, strike indicator placement, stealth, casting (without catching rhododendron, brush piles, rock edges, submerged sticks, yourself, your guide, your rod/line), water flow, ledges, holes, riffles, seams, shadows. The river wisdom keepers volunteer their time to teach about all of these elements and more.
Too often we fail to take advantage of the wisdom held within individuals who have spent years learning this living art. As I stood beside Steve yesterday, I felt honored to be one of those lucky enough to learn what he had to share. As I glanced upriver and downriver, other mentors were with their students…what a beautiful sight.
Steve was very trusting of me to hold the rod still as he changed flies. Once he even held one fly attached to the line in his mouth to add another one below it on a nymph rig…he did remind me not to move the rod. Trusting soul isn’t he!?!
The North Carolina Wildlife Commission provides these programs free of charge. Yes…free of charge (unbelievable, I know). The programs are paid for with funds generated from fishing license sales for the most part. According to an article in the Citizen Times several years ago, trout anglers gave the state’s economy an estimated $383 million from direct sales on fishing equipment, food, gas, lodging, and guides. That same 2014 study found 3600 jobs were supported by mountain fishers. A 2009 study showed a total impact of trout anglers in North Carolina impacted with $174 million boost to the economy. That’s a significant jump in five years. Considering the Great Smoky Mountain National Park had the highest visitor numbers ever last year, it’s difficult to imagine what economic boosts fly fishing is providing the state present day. A drive along trout creeks and rivers or a hike into even more remote creeks gives evidence to the high demand for fly fishing in our Western North Carolina cold creeks.
Women are the fastest growing demographic among fly fishers and our wildlife commission acknowledges this by providing dedicated classes for women. Because fly fishing has been a male-dominated endeavor, it’s sometimes challenging for women to enter into it. In the four months I’ve been involved with it I’ve visited several shops or outfitters just to see how a woman is welcomed. Some have been amazing and supportive beyond imagination. One was so full of testosterone and loud, vulgar stories I will withhold any support of that particular place or their guides for anyone. In April, when I started practicing art while fishing, I connected with several guide services for instruction (since classes were not happening due to Covid). Every one I ‘interviewed’ was asked how they felt working with women clients. My favorite outfitter, Little River Outfitters, recommended a company (Trout Zone Anglers) and I went with them after emailing the owner and checking out the bios of their guides. I chose one with a wife and two small kids…I mean, he must have patience. It’s important for women to feel supported and respected, especially when entering an arena that has been dominated by men for so long. But the smart outfitters, stores, and guides realize that supporting women means their business will prosper.
I didn’t intend for this writing to meander like one of our mountain creeks so I will bring in the line, so to speak, and simply thank the instructors and the wildlife commission for being so progressive in their putting education for all as a priority and especially to those river wisdom keepers that volunteer their time to spread the love of fly fishing.
Trout are some of the most beautiful fish. I hope to be able to paint abstracts that are inspired by their colors and patterns.
Many years ago, Rickie Lee Jones did a song called Satellites. “So you keep talking in many languages, telling us the way you feel, don’t stop confiding in the road you’re on, don’t quit, you’re walking satellites. Walking satellites, she laughs satellites, a room filled with satellites, ah, walking satellites….Friends must stay together, code the world with the fugitive light.”
As I was walking today, I tested my ability to beam to a satellite. My friends– also avid fly fishers, hikers and general nature-loving outdoor enthusiasts who are also middle aged–and I have been exploring the use of satellite messengers when outside of cellular range…which is most everywhere here in the Smoky Mountains…Nantahala Gorge and other playgrounds in which we romp. She goes out a lot by herself, just as I do. And he has been really supportive of both of us getting connected to the starry sky.
After I did a lot of research, read articles, looked at monthly fees, and watched videos comparing top models, I had decided to not do it. It’s a bit of an investment plus who needs another monthly fee? And who would I put as my emergency contact? I have no family here and live rather isolated so…I mean, there are far worse ways to go out besides being in a beautiful place and dropping this mortal coil.
But one day I was fly fishing and was wading up a creek. It was amazing and beautiful and then I came to a rapid and deep pool and there were just a few options–scoot across a very slanted rock that would result in a dunking in waders in water over my head (not ever safe) if I slipped, go around under rhododendron (anyone familiar with this option understands the local’s term: rhododendron hell. Of course I could turn around but I couldn’t go up the bank because it had gone from a few feet to a very steep embankment. As I stood there calling on all my ‘smarts,’ I decided I needed to re-think the satellite messenger idea. And oddly enough, my friend got her boot stuck in the same creek area and that’s what prompted her to move forward with it. I also had another friend remind me that I might help someone else who is injured and needs help in a remote area. (For those curious individuals, I opted for the rhododendron hell and did okay).
We both ended up purchasing the Garmin inReach Mini. Today I tried it on a hike by sending pre-set messages to my friends to see how the unit worked. I don’t plan on using it for regular communications but it’s good to know how it works given the deep tree cover, gorges and other challenges a user of SM might experience. And I wanted to know now…in a non-emergency situation…rather than when I really need it to work for me or someone else.
For those interested in how the device functioned, read on.
I chose three locations to use the Garmin. It is unrelated to cell service and uses exclusively the iridium satellite network which provides worldwide coverage. The first area was down in a sort of bowl or small gorge at Indian Creek Falls in the Deep Creek area of Great Smoky Mountains National Park. There was open sky at an angle from me but after five minutes it had not sent the message. I walked up above the bowl of the falls area under a very small opening in the tree canopy and it sent and was received.
This was the original position in the waterfall area where I tried to send the message. There was open sky but not directly above me.
The above map is from the app on my iPhone that works with the SM unit. I did a screen shot of each location to get coordinates of exactly where the message sent and also did photos of the places to show open sky and general topography.
Moving up, out of the bowl, only 78 feet higher in elevation, and finding a small area of opening directly overhead created a better result in sending the message.
In the three preset messages, you can create whatever text you wish to use and choose your contacts in advance by setting this up on your computer desktop and then syncing the device to the app. When you send these preset messages you don’t have to chose a contact because it is preset. The cool thing with the Garmin is these preset messages are free and don’t count against your monthly plan allotment.
I thought seeing the open area in the tree canopy would be sufficient. But the SM needs a perpendicular path to be most effective in sending the message.
The second place I chose was a much smaller open area in the tree canopy. I stood on a bridge that had an opening; again, at a 45 degree angle to the unit. It didn’t send after 8 minutes so I walked a very short few steps and stood on the rock beach and as soon as I got to a more perpendicular angle to the mini, the message sent.
By moving a few feet from the bridge to the little beach, the message sent.
This is the open canopy area. I turned my phone to point directly overhead to see how much space the SM needed to send a message. Not much really…it sent the fastest of the three messages. This is message #3 site.
The final area I chose to test the SM was on a ridge that had tree cover but an even smaller open canopy. It sent the fastest. I think this was due to the direct, perpendicular position of the unit with the canopy opening. That was rather easy to figure out from the first two attempts.
The map that is linked to the preset message can be zoomed in by the friends you send it to.
All three messages were received. The SM used 5% of its battery sending those with the biggest drain coming from the two attempts when it took longer to find the satellite connection. There’s no doubt that being out of a gorge is helpful as is having a direct, overhead area of open sky; but, it doesn’t have to be a large opening (this surprised me). Garmin is very specific about these two issues with sending satellite messages and I was surprised it worked as well as it did given the thick canopy of green that we are so lucky to have here in the Smoky Mountains.
This is what the text looks like that is sent. Recipients can click on the link to see a map that can be zoomed closer. Plus it gives the coordinates just in case further contact isn’t forthcoming. These can be used by rescue personnel. However, Garmin is very clear that SOS messages are not to be sent to contacts with the preset messages. The SOS dedicated button on the SM unit is dedicated for emergency/rescues.
Overall, I’m very pleased with the inReach Mini and will continue to educate myself on its use. Garmin provides great support and even offers online classes on how to use it for emergencies. There are also many videos on YouTube that are helpful. I hope I never have to use it for myself or anyone else; but, if emergency rescue is needed I am glad I have a little tool that might make the difference for someone.
Although contemplating this brought up issues of being alone or without family here, I realized I do have many people who love and support me right here who wouldn’t be okay with me leaving this Earth plane because I didn’t have a way to call for assistance when I am out roaming the back country. “Walking satellites…Friends must stay together, code the world with the fugitive light.” I am grateful for my friends…we really are walking satellites for each other.
