“How big is that one, Dave?”
I said it as nonchalantly as I could. I mean, I didn’t want him to think I really cared (which I did).
“Oh, not too big, he’s maybe 22 inches or so,” Dave muttered.
I knew it was a big fib, but I still leaned back in my boat seat a little so I could see the bass that he and Jamie, our guide, were handling. Dave gave me a sly grin as he held up a beautiful James River smallmouth that would go 15 inches or so. It was still a nice fish, size be danged. I was glad for my buddy, but I cast my lure with a little more fervor.
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Dave, Tim and I (plus one) were on the water again. Several times in these adventures, I have told you of my younger days when the three of us (not so much the plus one back then) waded and floated the rivers, walked the rabbit thickets and the squirrel woods, and tried our level best to catch muskrats in Coal River, the stream that meandered through our little corner of the world in West Virginia.
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Being young and inexperienced, we didn’t really know it, but we were, at that time, living life to its fullest. We were doing something in the woods pretty much year-round, and somewhere along the way, someone (probably Dave) came up with the idea that we would be called “The Big Three.” The name stuck, and that is what we called ourselves for those early (and far too short) years.
(Now about that “plus one” thing: Tim’s younger brother Terry has been with us from the start of our reunions. It also gives us “old guys” someone to razz when we need to, which is often.)
Then somehow, and no one told us this could be, life just happened. After college, Tim wound up in Georgia running a landscaping and greenhouse business, Dave did a stint in the Army and National Guard then went on to work locally, and I went to a different river to work as a guide for a while before going to the West Virginia Division of Natural Resources to work in law enforcement as a conservation officer.
The Big Three didn’t really see each other for a long time, but I guess life does that. Then about five years ago, we started rendezvousing once a year for a fishing trip. The first ones were done on New River in West Virginia, but this year we decided to change locales. Tim found a guide service on the James River in Virginia, and we are glad he did.
Wesley Hodges has a guide service for fishing, upland bird hunting and spring turkey hunting. From the minute you pull into the front yard of the lodge in the tiny hamlet of Glen Wilton, Virginia (near Eagle Rock), you know you have found something special.
The lodge is a house first constructed in the 1850s, and it has been beautifully redone. The layout of the grounds impressed me immediately. Dog kennels out back, a big fire ring with chairs right behind the house, a nice screened-in back porch for when it rains so you can tell lies and talk about fishing and bird dogs and turkeys.
All this was great, but it was the front porch that really grabbed me. Every morning I would meet Wesley at 5:30 in the kitchen, get coffee and head to the front porch to see the world wake up and hear what the birds had to say. It was wonderful.
In fact, the entire grounds at Wesley Hodges Fly Fishing and Bird Hunting’s home base seem to speak to you: “Come on in, rest, recharge, ease that frazzled mind, and get ready for an adventure in fishing or trailing behind a skinny bird dog.”
After breakfast, we were out on the road to meet the guides at different put spots on the James River. Again, the guides, the boats and other gear told you this was a first-class operation. Dave and I drew Jamie for our guide, and Tim and his brother Terry rode with Brady.
I was immediately impressed with Jamie, who turned out to be a local boy who has fished the James his whole life. You just can’t beat that kind of experience. While he was telling us to cast to a certain spot on the bank or other structure, he would add that he had fished this spot since he was a kid. He knew just where to throw a lure and how to work it; that is what a good guide does. I think Tim and Terry were just as impressed with Brady.
We basically caught fish all day for two days. I would not expect it to be that good always — that would not be fair — but the guides along with the wonderful accommodations and food would make up for any shortcomings by the fish.
“Memories are not necessarily made from the number of fish you catch but from the place you stay, the good food you have, and the people you meet,” Wesley said. “I love guiding, and I love teaching clients something new and something better that maybe they’ve never done before to land that trophy fish.
“Also, I love guiding because people get so consumed by everyday life and just basic living that I love giving them the chance to get back outside and get in touch with what they really are passionate about. It’s about trophy fish and harvesting nice birds, but it’s also about living life to the fullest.”
The Big Three (plus one) met at the Wesley Hodges Fly Fishing mecca and got reintroduced to living life to its fullest.
“Guns & Cornbread” is written by Larry Case, who lives in Fayette County, W.Va. You can write to him at larryocase3@gmail.com.