Poems, Essays and Other Ramblings of an Illiterate Fly Fisherman
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Gold Country Part II
Jamison walked into the bar in the little town figuring to get himself a drink and maybe a sandwich. He'd heard that the town had been a real gold rush town at one time, and was curious. Folks in the bar were friendly enough until he causally asked "So...where's all the gold mines"? Things in the bar got quiet. He decided it was time for him to leave. He needed to find a place to stay for the night, and he hadn't seen any accommodations in the little town.
As he was leaving, a woman who appeared to be the madam of the local whorehouse came up to him. He thought at first that she was going to invite him to come to her place, and was surprised when she began to speak to him of the reason for the silence in the bar a few moments earlier.
"You know" she said, "there's three working mines hereabouts. Folks don't really like to talk about them, especially not the fellows who own the claims. That fella down at the end of the bar from you is the most successful miner around this neighborhood." She finished with an invitation to him to come back when he could visit for a bit longer.
He thought about that as he headed back down the narrow mountain road in the direction from which he'd come. He'd crossed a bridge over the river some miles back, and had noticed that there was an old log cabin a bit downstream from it that appeared to be deserted.
"Why not give that a try"? he thought. "If it really is deserted, it may be a place I can use while I see what this little no-where town has to offer".
I grew up in Kentucky, and learned to fly fish on small ponds and lakes, mostly for Bluegill, but sometimes for Largemouth Bass. After I moved to California following my return from Vietnam, and thanks to the help of a couple of women who knew me better than I knew myself, I came back to my boyhood love of fly fishing.