If we’re shooting a movie, it’ll be a cross between Deliverance and Hawaii Five-O. A scene from Deliverance was allegedly filmed nearby, but skipping over the lake at forty miles per hour is more like a scene from Hawaii Five-0… minus the sunshine. Storm clouds are gathering, but we don’t care. It’s fish or cut bait, and we’re here to fish! Our guide, Seth, is taking us to his favorite spot up the Forney Creek tributary, a few miles away. When another boat passes in front of us, he throttles back and eases over the undulating backwash. He’s a considerate young man who respects old geezers.
Mindful of our age, he decelerates for the big breakers, allowing us to remain in the boat rather than be tossed like a couple of croutons into the liquid green salad of Lake Fontana. (We declined the life vests.) The surface relaxes, and we resume gliding speed, this time, into torrential rain. Seth and I are wearing appropriate glasses and headgear. But Cindy struggles to keep her wide-brimmed straw hat from careening away. She’s holding it tightly over her face to shield against large raindrops pelting us like something out of the Book of Revelation. It’s probably not funny to her but Seth and I can’t help but roar with laughter. “It’s all part of the adventure,” I shout. At least there’s no lightning. Yet.
We arrive at the mouth of Forney Creek, and Seth swings into action. The last time we went fly-fishing was on the Rogue River in Oregon. The outfitter there gave Cindy men’s waders that pretty much swallowed her whole. But Seth has just the right size. Now soaking wet, she’s determined to pull them on for that much-desired Ralph Lauren look photo op. We gather our gear and hike along the creek a hundred yards or so.
“Ever see any bear around here?” I ask. Seth says he sees them all the time. There have even been some “aggressive bear” encounters, he adds nonchalantly. He leads us through a thicket down to the creek. We watch and listen while he demonstrates how to catch fish in the Smokies. He gets Cindy started and takes me farther upstream. I admonish him several times to keep a close eye on her as she’s of the more fragile sex and can easily get hurt. As soon as I utter these cautionary remarks, I step knee-deep into a hole among the rocks.
I’m fighting to keep from tumbling into the rush of cold water. I think I’ve sprained my ankle. I glance downstream. Cindy’s upright and calmly casting away. Seth, who was highly recruited for college football as a kicker—he was 7th in the nation—is easing around as if on level ground. As for my balance, it’s not what it used to be. Seth is reaching his hand out to me, but, being the proud old geezer that I am, I’m embarrassed to take it. This attitude will soon change.
Finally, I get my sea legs and start fishing. Seth goes back to check on Cindy. Within minutes, I’m catching the prettiest little speckled trout you’ve ever seen—four in all. But the spirited little critters escape the hook before I can reel them in! You’re going to just have to imagine me in a photo holding the fish and grinning at the camera. Maybe next time.
The weather clears. Sunlight is splashing through these magnificent trees, and the fast-flowing water sparkles. I sense a large (non-aggressive) bear laughing at me from behind a tree somewhere.
Without Seth, we would have never found this delightful spot. Seth’s part of a family fishing guide business that spans generations. It’s called Fly Fishing the Smokies, with one of two locations in Bryson City, North Carolina. See: Flyfishingthesmokies.net.
Back at the boat, I’m missing my prized Oakley prescription sunglasses purchased for occasions such as this. Not cheap! The bear is no doubt wearing them by now, I think. Seth and I backtrack and find them on the trail close to where we were fishing.
We batten down the hatches and zip back across Lake Fontana. All Cindy and I have to do is walk up the hill to our car. Seth handles the rest. God bless Seth.
We’re lodging at a posh private residence on the Nantahala River. Guests can fly-fish right off the bank there. And you don’t have to throw them back! You can get a feel for the property on Instagram @nantahalaluxuryescape. Because we’re exhausted and drying out fast, we opt not to go back to the house to change for dinner. Instead, we drive to Bryson City Brewing, located in the historic 1924 RC Cola Bottling plant, and take a secluded table outside in the open air. These guys serve wonderful local craft beer, and their hamburger is outstanding! The burger comes with large, yummy fries. This time, we split the burger. Next time, I’ll get my own.
We’ll rest well tonight. Tomorrow, we plan to ride the Great Smoky Mountain Railroad through the Nantahala Gorge. It’ll pass right by our guesthouse. Afterward, we’ll do some research on the Historic Fryemont Inn (1923), and have dinner there. I understand their pecan-encrusted trout is amazing. The Fryemont sits on a bluff overlooking Bryson City. Its architect was the same guy who designed Biltmore. The Inn has a fascinating history, and I’ll be writing about it for the next issue of BOOM! For more info about the Fryemont, visit: www.FryemontInn.com.
Until next month, many blessings.
Jeff Barganier is a novelist, travel writer and speaker. He travels far and wide upon the slightest excuse for something interesting to write about. His novels include Lawson’s Bluff (2021); The Slash Brokers (1998). He also manages Cindy Barganier Interiors LLC (www.cindybarganier.com) at The Waters in Pike Road, Alabama. Contact Jeff at Jeffbarganier@knology.net. You may print out his features at www.jeffbarganier.com and take them with you when you travel!