Day 0

About three weeks ago, I received a phone call. I was at the Detroit airport, in transit from France heading to State College, Pennsylvania. I had been awake for over forty-eight hours. I was returning from my father’s 50^th birthday. It was an amazing banquet. I would describe the feast, but it would detract from the point… o what the hell: it’s worth a read. But close your eyes and imagine.

We started the evening with a brouillade de truffe, an egg based dish layered with truffles. Then, I had lamb, with vegetables, followed by an assortment of local cheeses (the tome Provençale is always a good choice), and cakes with a pistachio flavored crème anglaise. It was a great evening, concluded with rifle shooting at the local fair.

Fast forward. I pick up the call:

-Hi sweetheart.

-When are you getting home?

My heart shattered then. Whatever had happened, whatever would happen, my seven-year relationship was over. I cannot say that I was too surprised, but all the same, my relationship ended that day. Her visit the following week-end confirmed the fact.

A new chapter needs to open. I flew to San Francisco. In those cases, family helps. I talked, I cried, I was angry, I was sad. The range of emotions is stifling. Needless to say, my ability to work has been seriously compromised. While in San Francisco, I saw what is perhaps the worst movie I have seen in years (ok, maybe not the worst; that distinction goes to Megashark vs. Crocosaurus): the Bourne Legacy (nice actors, nice special effects, but the plot is the same as the Bourne Identity, except worse).

While the new Bourne (whose name escapes me) was running around in Alaska, I began thinking about what was happening to me. This is an opportunity to stand tall again, to not let my life be dictated by someone else but me, to not compromise on choices, and to have the career the way I intend it. Not that I was told what to do, but decisions are always made with the other in mind.  At any rates, I saw myself in the wild, doing something I had always wanted to do again since I was a little boy: fly fishing.

I am currently residing in State College, Pennsylvania, one of the best fly fishing area in the United States (I hope to make it to Montana). After the Bourne movie, I picked up a compass, drew a three-hundred miles radius and I will pick the best spots to fly fish. Each week, I will try a new one. After the ten days, it will be time to move on with my life, and explore new things. So far, I have picked

1/ Spring Creek

2/ Penn’s Creek

3/ Ithaca Falls

4/ Delaware River

5/ Lake Eerie

Any suggestions are welcome for the remaining five.

I will blog this journey to self-discovery. Each week a new locale, each week a new story.

I bought my rod today, and a set of flies for Spring Creek. I stepped outside of my apartment on the lawn, and tried to cast. I am particularly rusty. I don’t plan on catching a single fish during my ten weeks. 

I remember the words of Norman Maclean: “The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops.” There are elements in this world that are bigger than I am, and resisting their call is useless. I am called by the river, it has something to teach me, and I, its willing student, will listen, and share.