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  #51 (permalink)  
Old 05-04-2013, 05:53 AM
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Default Re: I Met Myself Last Night...

It was hard to hand over the maps yesterday afternoon, even though I trust this woman with anything of an "art" nature. And, I must have telegraphed my feelings in turning over those "rarities," as she assured me that the maps would be given the absolute best of care.

I have no doubt in the validity of her assertion. After all, she is the wife of one of my best friends/"fly-fishing cronies," and an absolute wizard in the science and technology of art preservation and duplication. Over the next week or so, she will meticulously reproduce the maps in the original sizes, make me up a working set and mount a second set in frames for hanging in my tying room, all as an early birthday present for yours truly. You see, on the 30th of this month, I will do what some of the best oncologists said couldn't be done-- celebrate my 60th birthday!

Predictions always come with a certain degree of "wiggle room," in that there are certain "intangibles" that can come into play in any given scenario. And, in the diagnostic prognosis of one's longevity, never are these same "intangibles" never more obvious. I've been privy to some of the finest cancer specialists on the planet, and all they did was call on their experiences of patients past and prepare me for the worst. Now, they still stand with me and continue to celebrate the unexpected, all while keeping a close watch on my health. I couldn't ask for more...

With all that said, I will make the three following predictions, holding to the ol' "wiggle room" approach...

1. I'll be ordering up a third set of maps for a bit of empty wall space at "Trail's End..."

2. I will crack the covers of the first of Montgomery Jackson's personal journals sometime over the weekend...

3. You will find me "pontificating" to the trout populations of the AuSable River before the "close of fishing business" on Sunday night, with "staff" in hand-- 5-wt. T&T --and a #14 Adams parachute dangling from the tippet...

And, one last look into what just might happen in the hours/days ahead... Come the 30th day of this month, "Trail's End" is going to host one heckuva party!!!

Be well, my friends, and have a great weekend... And, buy some flies, will ya?

Jerry, aka hairwing530
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Last edited by hairwing530; 05-07-2013 at 08:05 AM.
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Old 05-07-2013, 07:52 AM
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Default Re: I Met Myself Last Night...

At 5:00 am this morning, I took stock of the weekend, and am hereby invoking my rights to claiming a bit of "predictions wiggle-room." Much was done, only not in the order planned...

Regarding the ordering of a third set of maps? Done within hours after my last entry into this running journal of sorts.

Item #2- Cracking the covers of the first of the late Montgomery Jackson's personal fly-fishing journals? I managed to read over and digest the initial ten pages or so, and I'm in awe of his work! His detailing of hatches from years ago was/is meticulous, as were/are his observations of the river itself. He also left his mark on the first journal with a wealth of "river mapping" in miniature. Every bit as intricate as his larger maps, they lend a certain "stop point" to the reading, as each page of mapping demands it share of study.

Item #3? It never happened during this past weekend. And, with good reason...

On Sunday afternoon, "The Speaker of the House"-- aka my wife, Debbi --suggested a trip back into "Trail's End," a puzzling inquiry as she's not all that fond of my "off-road baja tactics" with the Fish Truck. Still, I was up for it and we soon found ourselves standing in the clearing in front of the place. The porch repairs were holding well, and if the weather holds, we'll soon have the exterior upgrades finished. The project will no doubt last the summer and early fall.

After unlocking the front door and opening the place up, "The Speaker" quietly asked me to carry an old Scottish basket she favors down to the bench seat at the top of the horseshoe bend in the river while she took further stock of the cabin's interior needs. We came by the little basket during a trip to my ancestral homelands some 30+ years ago.

I fear that my Better Half knows me too well. After the appropriate amount of "wait time"-- about 30 seconds or so by my watch --my curiousity got the better of me and I opened the basket. In it were two books, both carefully wrapped. The first was obvious, in that it was the initial collection of the late Montgomery Jackson's three personal journals. The second was a photo album, one that I recognized immediately as something of a pictorial history of my angling days with and without a couple of my girls. With the recent surpassing of the third anniversary of the loss of our youngest, I think my wife knew that I needed a little reminder of the truly good times we all spent together-- in sickness and in health. She was right... There was so much more to our collective days than merely the loss of two of our daughters...

I guess that one could say that "I Met Myself Again That Night," and in that re-introduction of sorts was the further affirmation that, no matter the status of today, when we all were together, we did it right... It's a family tradition that will remain in the years to come...

Jerry, aka hairwing530
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Old 05-12-2013, 06:40 AM
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Default Re: I Met Myself Last Night...

With far too long a week finally winding, one in which I spent my waking hours participating in my "oncology mid-terms"-- my term for my six-month gauntlet-style post cancer check-up and tests --it's good to have no place to go, and no appointments to keep. Sleep hasn't come easy of late, and with the weather having soured-- 70's a few days ago, and snow and 33 this morning --I intend to take full advantage of what I hope will be a restful Sunday afternoon.

If there was a bright side to this past week, it would be that I had plenty of time to catch up on some reading. After digesting the contents of the latest two of the 25 journals centering around the growing up of yours truly and penned by the late Montgomery Jackson, I came to another of those "self-examination" enlightenings-- that being my 20-something fascination with the "number" of fish in a day rather than the quality of the experience.

I'm of the opinion that every fly fisherman goes through his or her fair share of stages, a premise that has been examined and discussed time and again. The first stage comes, naturally enough, in the earliest of days astream, those hours when a young angler feels fortunate just to take a fish or two. Stage #2 gets into the "numbers phase," in which a day is measured by how much of a given river is covered, and how many fish are taken. Not the most noteworthy of our growing into the sport, but a necessary one to fully appreciate the later stages.

Stage #3 brings with it a concentration of the "big fish," accepting the challenge of a wise and older trout, and settling for no less. It's the beginning of our emphasis on really "learning" the intricate details of being a truly fine fly fisherman.

Then, inevitably, comes the last and final phase of our maturation astream. I like to call this stage The Appreciation Stage. Once we've spent enough of our days decorating streamside trees with "fly ornamentation," racking up impressive numbers and taking the occasional large fish, we ease into that time in our life when just "being there" is more than enough. It's that stage when the company of family and friends-- my daughter and fishing cronies immediately come to mind --out-weighs all else.

Sure, the occasional fish only proves to lend to the overall experience, but it becomes less of a point of emphasis. We work on our casting a bit more, hone our fly selections, and immerse ourselves in watching and enjoying as those around us do well while astream. In many ways, we become the teacher where once we were the student. And, that, my friends, can be the best of what fly fishing so often offers us...

In reading the volumes of the late Montgomery Jackson, I find myself to have been blessed for much longer than I realized. Simply... it has to do with the teachers I've had along the way-- my grandfather, "Doc" Holship, and one Montgomery Jackson. The "little boy" who still resides within me is becoming more appreciative of their teachings with every passing day...

Jerry, aka hairwing530
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Last edited by hairwing530; 05-13-2013 at 05:03 AM.
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Old 05-14-2013, 05:49 AM
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Default Re: I Met Myself Last Night...

Well, the first set of map reproductions now hang securely on the northern wall of "Trail's End," fitting tributes to the late Montgomery Jackson. There are seven in all, each true to scale, and framed and matted to perfection. My buddy's wife even took the time to mount one ruffed grouse feather and one woodcock feather in opposing corners of the matting, a touch that would have sat well with the late artistic talent behind the maps, as he was known to occasionally find his way into one of the local upland coverts, come October.

As I'm still on "restricted" duty for a few more days, yesterday afternoon seemed a perfect time to add a few more interior pieces to the enjoyable task of rebuilding/restoring the "Great Room," as the late Montgomery Jackson called it, at "Trail's End" into something more reminiscent of its former glory. The exterior work is nearing the final phases, and it won't be long before the interior touches-- sealing the odd cracks here and there, replacing a few pieces of window panes, et al --will be all that remain on the "Trail's End To-Do" list. And, to be honest with you, it will be a labor of love that I will miss when it's finished, though I'm sure that I'll be able to devise an excuse for "refurbishing" something else at the cabin in the very near future.

And, while the "re-construction" phase of the "Trail's End" project winds down, I'll take a great deal of solace and comfort in the "building" of another part of the late Montgomery Jackson's legacy-- his grandson's fishing skills. While The Speaker of the House and I were hanging maps and cleaning up the odd "cubby holes" a bit more, said grandson arrived at "Trail's End," as requested. There, as instructed by a note in one of the boxes delivered to me by the young man awhile back, I motioned to the pile on the old oak table and presented him with an aged vest, a leather rod case, and one of his grandfather's prized reels. Teaching his grandson to be a fly-fisherman was one of the last things on Montgomery Jackson's own "to do" lists, as the young man had expressed an interest in something his father shunned as a "waste of time." The realization of these "grandfather-grandson" tutoring sessions were denied Montgomery Jackson by his death, and in his final days, his words asked little more of me than to pick up the mantle of responsibility that he would be handing off to me, post-humously.

So, I'm going to shelve the journals for awhile, and come the afternoon after my 60th birthday later this month, the introduction to the sport of fly fishing will begin for a young man that I'm hoping will be reflective of his grandfather's love for all of the right things-- family, friends and fly fishing. And, I'm hedging my bets that he will turn out to be just fine. After all, he's off to a great start. You see, his name is Montgomery Jackson, III...
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Last edited by hairwing530; 05-14-2013 at 03:09 PM.
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Old 05-24-2013, 11:45 AM
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Default Re: I Met Myself Last Night...

Home... It's amazing how much of an impact such a small word can have, especially when one has spent the bulk of his time far from it. Yesterday marked my arrival "home" from another short stint at the Cancer Center in Ann Arbor. Some results from my recent post-cancer "mid-terms" were suspect, and so the test were run again. And, once more, the waiting game begins...

Still, I've been through this gauntlet before, and I will get through it again. At least, I'm "home," and with the surroundings come a certain measure of comfort. No more "wheel-chair taxi" rides from one lab to another. Additional CAT scans won't be performed anytime soon, and I'll be allowed to keep whatever blood remains rather than "donating" it to a collection of small tubes.

It's been said-- and often written --that "home is where the heart is" --and I believe that sentiment to be true. My spirits lifted appreciably after walking back through the front door yesterday. And, later this afternoon, the ol' morale will get another boost. With the promise of clear skies and a beautiful evening sunset, you'll find me sitting on the front porch of "Trail's End," thumbing through some of the late Montgomery Jackson's writings and awaiting the arrival of "the girls." Jesse is done with college for the summer, and she'll no doubt want to fish the twilight rises. And, "Mom" will want a front-row seat after she's removed a few more of the bed-sheets from the furniture inside the cabin.

Persuant to the clues and mysteries contained in the journals of one Montgomery Jackson, I just may have to spend a portion of the weekend exploring the cabin's holdings a bit more closely. I am realizing more each day, and with every turning of a page, that there was a great deal of depth to the personal river of life that was the late Montgomery Jackson. And, that "Trail's End" is beginning to feel more and more like "home" to yours truly with the passing of every hour...

What a gift, indeed...
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  #56 (permalink)  
Old 05-24-2013, 12:19 PM
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Default Re: I Met Myself Last Night...

This thread is a gift to all of us.......I look forward to each installment of this great story!!
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Old 05-25-2013, 06:40 AM
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Default Re: I Met Myself Last Night...

There is magic that occurs twice a day when the conditions are right-- first light and that last hour known as twilight. As the sun settled in the west yesterday, I split my time between watching our daughter, Jesse, work her fly line amidst small, but steady clouds of over-lapping hatches and weighing the recently-read thoughts of the late Montgomery Jackson.

In one of his journals, he opined that I'd always been "a young man with an old soul," reasoning further that I was drawn to traditions and traditional ways because of the manner of company most often kept-- my elders, so to speak. And, in hindsight, I'd have to say that I agree with those observations.

Some of that decided "lean" in life, "elder hoarding," if you will, had to do with my own yearning to learn almost anything and everything about the outdoors, working with my hands, and skill sets that already were starting into a steep decline. My "elders" were a generation of teachers, in that they freely gave of their knowledge and abilities as they were passed onto them.

My grandfather and "Doc" were both fishermen and hunters, capable of holding their own in either arena, and men who could make or devise just about anything they needed, at home and afield. And, in that environment, I thrived via their teachings...

Then, after their passing, the late Montgomery Jackson stepped to the forefront. Long among the cast of characters that made up my younger years, he was of the age more akin to a "fatherly figure" rather than somone closer in years to my grandfather's ilk. He also was a man who respected my early teachings, only seeking to complement the foundation already in place rather than trying to make any wholesale changes of any kind. In that regard, as well as many others, my gratitude for his friendship over the years remains undimmed by his own death.

Come next week, I will begin yet another teaching session of my own, one that will include the "schooling" of Montgomery Jackson, III. In essence, I will become the elder stateman to a younger man's aspirations to be more like his grandfather. And, while the "young man with an old soul" still lives on inside of me, my exterior belies the fact that I'm a little more like the ol' "Fish Truck" than I'd like to admit. I'm a little worse for wear around the edges, but at the heart of it all, the motor and drive-train are still reliable and still capable of getting one where he or she has to go...

Hope springs eternal in the heart of an aging angler...
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Last edited by hairwing530; 05-26-2013 at 05:57 AM.
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Old 05-26-2013, 06:35 AM
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Default Re: I Met Myself Last Night...

Once, and not so long ago, I stated my intent to shelve the "retrospective" journals of the late Montgomery Jackson-- his take on me and his observations/personalized road mapping of the life and times of yours truly --so as to concentrate on the tutelage of his grandson, as it pertains to his introduction to fly-fishing. I now know that this weaning of my addiction to learning more about "self" through the eyes of a man who thought me more a son than a mere fishing companion is well beyond my reach.

My own "Doc"-- my former chief oncologist and now a member of the full-time fly-fishing "cronies" club --observed recently that what the late Montgomery Jackson had left me was, indeed, among the rarest gifts of all in that his writings recalled it all, and only in the best of contexts. Oh, I've been chided a time or two, but always in a way that sparked a thought, a reflective note, or brought to mind moments now lost in a sea of time long past.

So, after a few hours of sleep following last evening's "bedtime read," first light found me sitting on the steps of "Trail's End," so lost in thought about the hours/days/special occasions spent in this cabin over the years that I failed to notice the passing of two riverboats until hailed from the river. Obviously, there are others who find their own brand of "magic" in the first and last-light hours...

Come Tuesday morning, I've been told that "Trail's End" will be off-limits until sometime Thursday afternoon. Come that day, May 30th, family and friends will help me celebrate my 60th birthday, only adding to the long list of "special" occasions that have taken place at the cabin, and extending my own personal "road map" by a few more memories/miles. And, fittingly enough, I like to think that somewhere far distant, a very special group of my "elders" will be checking in on me, just to make sure that I've stayed true to my life's path of sorts, and continue on in my daily journeys by approaching my inner "self" as still a "work in progress..."

Jerry, aka hairwing530
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Old 05-27-2013, 07:23 AM
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Default Re: I Met Myself Last Night...

While finishing up at the tying desk the other night-- a few flies wrapped and some additional "journal" pages read --I had one of those "thunder-struck" moments of sorts. In a rare moment of reflection after another lesson in "self," I realized something that had been right in front of me all this time--that the late Montgomery Jackson had a bit of "Da Vinci" in him. And, no, I haven't completely lost my mind! Follow...

Each man was given to the art of "sketching"-- Da Vinci, his inventions, and Montgomery Jackson, his river maps and drawings. Even in the form of a rough sketch, their collective works were nothing short of sheer artistry in its purest form. Differing subjects, but obvious skills, nonetheless.

Both men were fanciers of the proverbial "puzzle to be solved." Where the two men deviate from their somewhat parallel pathes rests in the "medium" for their choices. Da Vinci placed his clues within his many works of art, while the late Montgomery Jackson laid out his own sort of personalized "scavenger hunt" within the context of his/my journals, placing a random hint or two there among the pages. Come Friday morning, I will begin the next leg of this journey of exploration, right after Montgomery Jackson, III's first lessons toward taking his rightful place astream.

One might wonder as to the man's reasoning for it all, and to that inquiry, I would merely state that you had to know the late Montgomery Jackson to really understand him. I think that he knew, deep down, that I'd need a good puzzle to work through at this stage of my life, a sort of self-imagined trail/treasure map to follow to its natural end and keep the ol' "area between my ears" working through the best kind of challenges that I could think of. One last group of "gifts" that must have been years in the making as the sheer effort of this gifting literally staggers the mind...

Someone once told me that fly-fishing was "the ultimate act of faith"-- faith in yourself, faith in your fly offering, and faith in the fact that there still swims a trout gullible enough to gift you with "the take." To that observation, I would add that another "ultimate act of faith" could be found in the simple fact that a friend now gone had the "faith" in me to entrust me with his "stuff," and the continuance of his "life's work"-- i.e. the teaching of fly fishing to his grandson. To my way of thinking, it is proof positive that a deep friendship can often bridge the chasm known as death...
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Last edited by hairwing530; 05-27-2013 at 07:44 AM.
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Old 05-30-2013, 05:48 AM
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Default Re: I Met Myself Last Night...

As we all pass through this thing called "life," we carry with us no shortage of "expectations," mixed codes of conduct and aspirations that we set for ourselves over the years for those moments when we sit back and take stock of things. And, within those "expectations," we generally decide deep down-- and if we're completely honest with ourselves --whether we've succeeded beyond the original goals or merely met those "expectations" somewhere in the middle.

As daylight gave way to the evening hours yesterday, I had one of those "take stock" moments of my own, one inspired by the writings of the late Montgomery Jackson, and a phone call from my chief oncologist. The former wrote of his pride in the kind of man I was growing to be, and the latter-- said oncologist --wanted to let me know that my stay on the "remission" list was assured, and in the proverbial "bag." That news in itself was one of the finest early birthday presents that a cancer survivor can get!

It is my opinion that we tend to be our own harshest critics, and that "second-guessing" comes with the territory, so to speak. It doesn't matter if you're questioning the fly you've chosen for the morning hatch or wondering if a certain move made the day before was, indeed, correct and true. We make our choices as deemed by our own personal "measuring sticks"-- aka, expectations --and pray that the decisions made will prove to be the right ones...

This "journey" into self has proven, indeed, to be a rare and unique gift by the late Montgomery Jackson, in that it's blessed me with a fair share of "taking stock" moments. Still, there are journals remaining to be read, and I'm looking forward to them more than ever, anticipating a good share of honesty contained therein, and "expecting" it, all at the same time.

Later today, I will be directed to make the turn onto the two-track leading back to "Trail's End," and be subjected to serving as the "guest of honor," otherwise known as "He who shall be roasted without mercy..." Family and friends will be there, and in spirit, so will the likes of my grandfather, "Doc" Holship, my father, and the late Montgomery Jackson. And, while the celebration goes on, the words of Montgomery Jackson that were read last night will ring in my ears-- Lad... You've got a level head, an old soul and a big heart. Someday, the actions of others will tell that the one thing every man yearns for, and that's to know that you done good!! Montgomery

If I am allowed but one birthday wish on this day, it's to see that same sentiment of approval etched on the faces of those closest to me. Then, I'll know, deep down, that, somehow, I've "done good" along the way...
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Last edited by hairwing530; 05-31-2013 at 06:05 AM.
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