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Welcome back to the new NEFF. Take a break from Twitter and Facebook. You don't go to Dicks for your fly fishing gear, you go to your local fly fishing store. Enjoy!

Beetle at Somerset

golden beetle

Active member
I do love fly fishing, and my love for it began with a book.

The story of Harry Middleton's life is the story of an iconic American author.

He is the greatest literary figure in fly fishing, and author of "The Bright Country," perhaps my favorite book of all if you asked me today.

I read it in the Creekside Cabins, near Hazel Bridge along the Willowemoc, maybe 10 years ago, after my friend won a raffle at the Somerset show for a weekend of casting lessons at the Joan Wulff school.

I managed to find a beautiful first edition of "The Bright Country," my only show purchase.

While I made the rounds and cast a few rods, Saturday was not fun at all. I drove 3 hours to get to Somerset and back to New York City trough a snowstorm.

But Sunday was different.

I spent the day with great people.

And the Cabarles.

It started with Mike Valla in the author's booth, who was a perfect start to the day.

He called Eric Stroup over to the booth, and Eric introduced me to both Lefty Kreh and Joe Humphreys.

Joe, Eric and I talked for almost an hour, and I learned about life, and some about fishing, by doing what any sensible man would do in that situation: sit quiet and listen.

Then I spent some time with the Cabarles, father and son.

Mr. Cabarle bought a trip to Kamchatka and a flybox made of faux Hungarian leather.

He got it because BHC has one, and DC confided quietly to me that his father wants to be just like BHC.

Later we had lunch together.

Mr. Cabarle chose the buffet, while Dennis enjoyed a burger, and I got a salad.

And then the check arrived.

They invited me.

But Mr. Cabarle pulled the "I forgot my wallet" routine, which was hard to believe seeing that he bought that Hungarian leather fly box and trip to Kamchatka right before we sat down to eat.

Since I also had left my wallet in the car, DC ended up paying, but he insisted that I pay my share and that we walk to my car together afterward to get my wallet.

Obviously it was a very cold day, and luckily, as we were walking from the restaurant, I found my wallet in the most unusual of places.

I usually keep my wallet in my jacket, so you can imagine my surprise when I found it in my pants pocket, just when DC appeared ready to call Grobert over for a Beetle beat down.

Jeff K, Fredy and Brian C. were there and good to see.

Allen L was there tying beautiful flies. The isos were sold out.

And Joe D, my friend and Delaware guide and conservationist, kindly gave me a ride to my car after the show.

Best regards,
Beetle.
 
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I do love fly fishing, and my love for it began with a book.

The story of Harry Middleton's life is the story of an iconic American author.

He is the greatest literary figure in fly fishing, and author of "The Bright Country," perhaps my favorite book of all if you asked me today.

I read it in the Creekside Cabins, near Hazel Bridge along the Willowemoc, maybe 10 years ago, after my friend won a raffle at the Somerset show for a weekend of casting lessons at the Joan Wulff school.

I managed to find a beautiful first edition of "The Bright Country," my only show purchase.

While I made the rounds and cast a few rods, Saturday was not fun at all. I drove 3 hours to get to Somerset and back to New York City trough a snowstorm.

But Sunday was different.

I spent the day with great people.

And the Cabarles.

It started with Mike Valla in the author's booth, who was a perfect start to the day.

He called Eric Stroup over to the booth, and Eric introduced me to both Lefty Kreh and Joe Humphreys.

Joe, Eric and I talked for almost an hour, and I learned about life, and some about fishing, by doing what any sensible man would do in that situation: sit quiet and listen.

Then I spent some time with the Cabarles, father and son.

Mr. Cabarle bought a trip to Kamchatka and a flybox made of faux Hungarian leather.

He got it because BHC has one, and DC confided quietly to me that his father wants to be just like BHC.

Later we had lunch together.

Mr. Cabarle chose the buffet, while Dennis enjoyed a burger, and I got a salad.

And then the check arrived.

They invited me.

But Mr. Cabarle pulled the "I forgot my wallet" routine, which was hard to believe seeing that he bought that Hungarian leather fly box and trip to Kamchatka right before we sat down to eat.

Since I also had left my wallet in the car, DC ended up paying, but he insisted that I pay my share and that we walk to my car together afterward to get my wallet.

Obviously it was a very cold day, and luckily, as we were walking from the restaurant, I found my wallet in the most unusual of places.

I usually keep my wallet in my jacket, so you can imagine my surprise when I found it in my pants pocket, just when DC appeared ready to call Grobert over for a Beetle beat down.

Jeff K, Fredy and Brian C. were there and good to see.

Allen L was there tying beautiful flies. The isos were sold out.

And Joe D, my friend and Delaware guide and conservationist, kindly gave me a ride to my car after the show.

Best regards,
Beetle.

WTF this extra strange beetle
 
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