The PHW regional coordinator, working with the VA, selected 14 vets from the western Pennsylvania and western New York areas to travel to Austin for the three day event. Tuesday afternoon chapter members, vets, and motorcycle escorts gathered in Shinglehouse, then moved to Oswayo Valley High School, where about 300 students and faculty members gave the vets a warm welcome.
From Shinglehouse the parade made its way to Coudersport, about 20 miles south. Along the way families would be outside their homes waving flags, with a crowd of about 1000 or so folks lining Main Street and Cole Memorial Hospital in Coudersport to show their support for the program.
After a brief stop at the Coudersport American Legion, the convoy headed to the First Fork Lodge in Costello (http://www.firstforklodge.net/), where the vets would stay for the next three nights. Tuesday evening's festivities included an outstanding prime rib dinner, courtesy of owners Linda and Jack Krafft. And it was right before dinner that we had one of those surreal experiences that truly reflect how small the world actually is. Mary, I, and God's Country chapter president Pete Ryan were hanging out in a sitting room chatting with a couple of the vets. Introductions started in the predictable way, except that in this case taking an unexpected turn. I first asked the vet sitting across from me what his branch of service was. He replied, "Navy." Me too, I replied. Then I asked what he did in the Navy. He replied that he had served in helicopters, specifically the SH-60 Seahawk, which I responded that I had flown with several Seahawk squadrons as well. When I asked him what squadron he had served with, the vet replied that it was a small outfit out of Norfolk that I probably wasn't familiar with. When I pressed him for its name, and he replied with HCS-4, I quickly responded that I was not only familiar with the squadron, but with one of its former pilots. That's when the world shrank considerably, as I asked him if he knew Capt. Joe DiPaola, who had deployed twice with the squadron to Iraq. "Joe DiPaola, I know Joe DiPaola ... I was his door gunner!", he exclaimed" Chief Bryan "Tbone" Trembath, who now owns a contracting business in Mars, PA, spent his last deployments in the Navy keeping Joe out of harms way, replied to a last minute invitation to join our PHW event and jumped at the chance.
So when the vets showed up at Roy's preserve Wednesday morning to fish, karma dictated that Tbone and I fish together. You can go back about a year in this blog and find a prior entry that describes Roy's fishing preserve. All I'll say is that, if you want the opportunity to catch a big trout in a small stream, this is the place to be. And this year's fishing was just as phenomenal. The weather was a bit warm for mid-May, but recent rains had Big Moore's Run in great condition. Over the ensuing two days Bryan fished the stream and the pond on Roy's property, both offering up pretty decent sized Kamloops Rainbows and Browns.
Although this was only his second fly fishing outing, Bryan quickly mastered the intricacies (and frustrations) of small stream fishing, and over the course of 2 days easily caught over dozen trout, many in the 18-20 inch range. We fished dries, dry/droppers, streamers, and nymphs, with a Mary-tied Rainbow Warrior bringing some gorgeous fish to the next the first day.
While the chapter members were there to serve as guides, Mary and I did get to sneak out for a couple of hours on our own. A Chernobyl Ant with a Pheasant Tail dropper placed along the creek bank proved just the meal ticket for a hungry Brown which came out of nowhere and gulped down the big meal:
Mary got to break in her new Hardy 4wt rod and reel on a nice Rainbow which slammed a Green Drake Parachute in Roy's pond:
The event was an unqualified success. What is truly impressive, though, is all of the work that goes into making this outing work year after year. It's truly a community undertaking. The Kraffts and Magarigal's donate the use of their establishments (including stocking about 200 trout from Roy's hatchery, many of which were well over 20 inches!), despite it being the peak time of the year for fly fishing. Under the outstanding leadership of president Pete Ryan and vice president Dave Saulter (who does yeoman's work coordinating the parade), the God's Country chapter members provide the guiding service and fly tying instruction, and are constantly on hand to cater to the vets needs. The Austin-Costello Sportsmen's Club provides its facilities for the fly tying class and lunch on Wednesday. Otto Deutsch, who is an absolute master at the smoker, served up a phenomenal prime rib dinner on Thursday evening, while a women's Quilting Group from Shinglehouse helped serve the vets, and also presented them with personalized quilts. And residents and businesses from around the county donate generously to ensure that the vets are provided with a first-rate experience.
I really don't buy the notion that fly fishing is some ethereal experience; perhaps that's reserved for the "mandarins" of the sport. But while we in the rank and file might never achieve the zen state, I can see how Project Healing Waters, and fly fishing, can help a disabled vet, or anyone for that matter. There's really nothing about the physical act of fly fishing that in itself is therapeutic. It's rather what's going on in your head while your fishing. Simply put, everything involved in trying to catch a trout while standing on the slippery bottom of a stream, surrounded by trees, with a flimsy rod, thin leaders, and some feathers tied to a tiny hook, crowds out everything else that would be occupying your brain. And so, for at least a couple of days, Brian and his comrades were able to push out the physical and emotional pain, and replace it with no other thoughts than how to catch and land a fish. The relief might be only temporary, but I would think that any distance a vet can put between him and his disability is a good thing. And, to all of the folks who made it possible for the vets to create that distance, your contribution mattered.
Tight Lines,
Mikey D Fishing
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