...what the heck has been going on with the west fork. No I don't...I know. Poor Roger must be rolling over...the mismanagement of the club has been apparent for years. The squabbles and rifts between just about everybody have kept me off that now infamous river for that same amount of time. Its just not that great...not like a real driftless stream. Rogers work on the lower end of my stream is the work of an artist...its in one of the lower pictures and if anyone ever finds this blog they might recognize it. Roger was one of the first folks I met out here and our love of trout made us fast friends. That and a few other common ground items made us able to discuss life on familiar terms. Like the time I made a stink on wisfly and one of the weenies drove down from up north to tell Roger I was stirring things up again...Roger later told me his reply was, "good for Bob." If I remember right my stink was the desire by some to line every driftless stream with rock. Of course every flyfishing lawyer and doctor knew better than we did...we who grew up here. But, I first met Roger at a party at my farm. My neighbor Duraframe Dave invited some local musicians including Chris Aaron...now playing somewhere. And, we had a great time...the first of many with Roger. Most, at the store and campground as we watched it grow into what would later become Frankensteins monster...
And, the night I met Roger...Dave Crook aka duraframe dave, Steve Holcomb, and Chris Aaron. Dave and Steve have joined Roger on the other side. The west fork. Along with an infant son of Lisa's and mine buried on Hwy S in the little church and cemetery in what was once Manning... with Kickapoo center, the population center of the entire Bad Axe. How short time is...and how pitiful the squabbling.
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