Yesterday we were in full pursuit to feed a smallie addiction no matter what obstacle came our way. The French Broad River was blown out so we decided to take our chances on some different scenery in hopes that the water would a little less colored. Armed with 2 XP 6wts and a Ziploc bag of various clousers, we headed down to Franklin, NC.

Soon after we started the drive, we realized that we had no shuttle, don’t know of any shuttle service, and began brainstorming how to rectify the situation. Hitchhiking seemed like the only rational solution, but my partner had another idea that he thought was the best thing since sliced bread. “I’ll buy us an old beat-up scooter,” he shouted! “Ya man, I’ll get us an old scooter or kid’s dirt bike for a few hundred bucks, and we can throw it in the back of the truck to use all summer.” Bound and determined, he led us to two pawn shops, two motorcycle dealerships, one salvage bike shop, and 9 U-turns.  We soon figured out that the used-looking scooters and dirt bikes that sit out in front of the dealerships are not for sale, and the pawn shops want top US dollar for any P.O.S. they have.

Behind schedule and still without a shuttle, we continued on. And as luck would have it, we just so happened to pass a friend on the highway in Franklin that agreed to help us out on our shuttle issue. At this point, I was thinking that today might just be our lucky day. That thought lasted all of about 10 minutes; we had arrived at our destination only to find that the Little Tennessee was as dirty as the French Broad had been earlier in the day. Not that I should have been surprised, but what the heck!

 We fished pretty hard until around 7:30pm and managed to catch a few fish that had pitied us for our efforts on the day. All in all, it was great to be out on the water, sharing some laughs with a good friend under the summer sun.

Looking back on the day, the true joy did not come from how many smallmouth we caught or didn’t catch but from the comradery we shared.  Going out on an expedition, knowing that we were setting ourselves up for failure, and coming out with a smile on our faces at the end of the day is what flyfishing for us was all about.