As you may guess by thumbing through some of these pages, the chapters herein contain a memoir of forty years of fly-fishing, some while I was a novitiate, some while I was proficient, and some from the in-between stages during the many years I lived in Pennsylvania. Many of the streams are well known to anglers who fish Pennsylvania or the Catskills so for full disclosure, the less traveled streams are a metaphor for events and circumstances that mark the experience as being memorable, unique, and in some cases Introspective. I pay a few homages along the way, to Art Flick and John Burroughs in "Catskill Remembrances" and Richard Brautigan in "The Amish Boy." The topical subject of vegan thought versus catch-and-release can be lifted from "Siren of Shangri La," while "Demons" offers a peek into inner psychology. "Natal Streams" explores the roots of a passion for fishing, wondering what role genes and nature each play. "Redeeming Currents" touches upon urban fishing along Bushkill Creek and my encounter with an underprivileged young boy from a disadvantaged neighborhood in Easton, Pennsylvania. "The New World" entails a coming-of-age fishing chronicle. In full confession, the opening dialogue (May 1969) is speculative as the only facts I could ascertain were that Indian Joe's part-time job at the mill was lost when a rope mill in Hulmeville, Pennsylvania, closed, leading some to believe he could no longer pay taxes on his holding. I did hear that he moved on to the Pocono region of Pennsylvania. The rest of the events and dialogue are as true as I could remember them. I would be remiss if I did not disclose that in some of these tracts, the names have been changed to protect the innocent (and the guilty).
"Tulpehocken Dreams" preserves some of my best days on the water as I graduated from neophyte to accomplished angler. Though most of my fishing is done alone, "Drought Fishing" celebrates fishing with friends as we commiserate over the bad luck of seasonal drought in less-than-elegant fashion. "Last Cast" evokes how meaningful the end of an outing, a trip, a season or even a lifetime of fishing might be experienced. "Woodward Cave" uncovers personal enlightenment in literally the darkest of places. Of course, what fly-fishing volume could be considered complete without addressing the Zen of fly-fishing as I attempt in "Wild Black Raspberries." The birthing of this book began more than thirty years ago when I became deeply involved with my local Trout Unlimited Chapter, Perkiomen Valley (#332). After having acquired sufficient skill as an angler, it is not hard to make the obvious connection between fly-fishing and the habitat where trout live. Unfortunately, even though Trout Unlimited has roughly 350,000 members today and has been in existence since 1954, not much in the angling literature appears to affirm the blood, sweat, and tears that members of local chapters produce in their efforts to make watersheds more sustainable for the fish that most fly anglers purport to love. "Perkiomen Nightmares" aims to correct that deficiency in hopes that writers more gifted than I can pay forward the work of a great organization and the loyal, hard-working volunteers. There are very few among us who are not beneficiaries of stream and watershed enhancements that have taken place in our local and distant destinations in search of trout. To show my appreciation, a portion of the proceeds of each book sold online will be dedicated to the national organization.
