Fishing the New River with Mike Smith

Anyone who knows my interests knows that if it were up to me, John Carlin's Virginia would actually be John Carlin Goes Fishing In Virginia.

But, that is not what the folks at Fox had in mind when we started this segment just about a year ago. "But you can do a few fishing stories," they said.

The story I've never done is muskie fishing. Muskies, for those who don't know are kind of like freshwater barracuda. They are long and slender with a mouth full of teeth. Muskies grow to be huge. Virginia anglers consistently catch monsters over 40" long.

The problem from a TV perspective is that they are really hard to catch. You can't do a story on muskie fishing, unless someone actually catches a muskie.

So I've been asking around to find the best muskie fisherman I could. A man who ran a campground along the New River suggested I call Mike Smith at Greasy Creek Outfitters. Mike, he said, "caught a lot of muskies."

So I called Mike and asked him if he thought he could catch a muskie in the four hours or so we could devote to the story.

When he stopped laughing, he said, "No."

"It takes 10,000 casts to catch a muskie," he said. "We might catch one, but let's shoot for a big smallmouth bass and see if we don't luck into a muskie along the way."

Turns out that Mike himself is quite a story. He holds a Ph.D. and teaches English at Bluefield State in West Virginia, where he is both a professor and a dean.

He teaches when school is in session and fishes the rest of the time, guiding other fisherman looking for his expertise on his home water – the New River. He guides for Greasy Creek Outfitters and increasingly for New River Fly Fishing, which offers fly fishing only opportunities.

“I got into fly fishing 10-12 years ago and now that’s my specialty,” he told me. “I would like to fly fish exclusively.” He still takes many clients, however who prefer more conventional spin fishing.

You’d think his time would be completely used up with the two pursuits, but he’s found a way to design flies for the Flyman Fishing Company, many of which were just released this week. He’s also written several books on fishing in Virginia. (Hey – he’s got the job I want!)

(Click here for a list of books Mike has written.)

So we decided we would drift the four miles of river upstream from Austinville, throw some flies, talk about English, fly design, muskies and whatever else came up.

In the TV story you will see me casting a massive 10” muskie fly. Try that for about an hour and you’ll understand what tired means. As the day wore on and the muskies continued not to bite and my arm began to feel like it might fall off, I asked him if we weren’t at least close to the magic 10,000th cast.

“I’ve been counting,” he said. “You’re right about at 300.”

It looks like the only thing harder than catching a muskie may be doing a TV story on it.

I’m sure I’ll keep trying.

The 29er craze is real.

I've been around mountain bikes long enough to be dangerous. My wife and I bought a pair of his and hers entry level bikes in the late 80's or early 90's.

Back then it was a revelation. You could actually ride a bicycle in the woods!

Eventually there were better and better bikes in the garage, and racing came into the picture. I did ok in the lower classes, winning some gear and a Commonwealth Games medal. I also crashed in 1993 during a race at Snowshoe, breaking both of my elbows in the process.


That's pretty much my mountain bike resume. I still ride some, but most of my energy in the past 10 years has been devoted to running and riding on the road.

So it was a bit of a shock when I walked into Just the Right Gear to interview owner, proprietor and local endurance legend Steve Hetherington for this story.

The bikes are lighter, faster, feature better suspension and braking systems and have an upgraded feel over the bikes I left behind when I departed the sport for skinny tires and Nikes. I felt like a 30 year old at the prom.

The newest innovation is the 29-inch wheel set. Gradually the trend is rolling over the long established 26-inchers.

"It's a gimmick," one rider told me as she cruised into the parking lot at Carvin's Cove, fresh off the trail. "I don't see any need to change." Another rider agreed, saying he had just invested in a new frame and had an expensive set of 26-inch wheels. He was more than happy with his ride. In fact he was grinning.

Posts on the Internet suggest the larger wheels are heavier, that they don't handle as nimbly as the 29ers, and that suspended 29ers don't have the full range of motion or travel compared to the 26ers.

I put all of those questions to Hetherington, who put most of the objections to rest. He says after three years the trend is getting stronger. Half the bikes he sells in his shop -- and he just found out it's been named to Bicycling Magazine's Top 100 list -- are 29ers. He even sells a brand called Niner, which makes nothing else.

As you will see in the TV story on Fox 21/27 in our demonstration, it's clear that a larger wheel rolls over roots and rocks more easily than a smaller wheel. Likewise, it doesn't drop into ruts as deeply. The result is an easier and smoother ride in the woods.

It turns out that the 26 inch wheels go back to what was available when industry pioneers were converting old beach cruisers into trail bikes. They had 26-inch wheels, so that's where the industry went.

Now it is clearly headed down a new trail, one that looks like it will stick.

The Shot Tower -- An American Curiosity

The Shot Tower, along the New River Trail in Wythe County captured my imagination years ago. It would have been in the late 80's or early 90's when I discovered the trail as a place to ride my mountain bike. (They had just become widely available at bike shops.)

We did family outings on the trail. First with my now college-aged boys riding on the seat on the back of my bike. Later they rode their own bikes on the hard-packed surface enjoying a ride that offered nothing in the way of hills, and plenty of excitement with trestles and old railroad tunnels to ride over and through.

And there above the trail just off Interstate 77, was (and is) the Shot Tower.

In the TV story we showed how liquid (melted) lead was dumped through a sieve creating droplets that fell 150 feet. Along the way they would harden into perfectly round musket balls, or smaller, bird shot. At the bottom, the lead's fall was cushioned by a cauldron of water. Conveniently, the bottom was at river level, and boatmen could transport the product down the New River.

Though it was only used for actual shot making for a brief portion of its 200+ year history, from approximately 1804 - 1839, it stands today as a marvel and a curiosity.

On the outside, the part that sticks up into the air is a graceful structure, and unlike anything else you've ever seen. From the entrance looking down, is a shaft that drops 75 feet through solid limestone bedrock. I asked how they made that hole back then.

"With picks and shovels," said Park Interpreter Patrick McFall.

One of the many tourists who showed up while we were shooting the story asked, how they knew that 150 feet was the proper distance.

It goes back to England and a man named William Watts, who built a tower on the side of his house and kept adding on until he got the distance right. Thomas Jackson brought that information with him to Southwestern Virginia.

Somebody in the group remarked that Watts must have had a very understanding wife, to allow him to build a tower on the side of the house and play with molten lead.

Whether its carving a 75-foot hole into the landscape, making musket balls or figuring out how to make musket balls, it's cool to have the chance to marvel at how we arrived where we are today.

If you would like to see the Shot Tower, you need to plan to be there on a major summer holiday. (Labor Day is the next one on the schedule) or contact the New River Trail State Park headquarters at Foster Falls. The Rangers that I worked with on this story said they typically try to accommodate as many requests as they can -- but it's impossible to handle everything.

You might also be interested in volunteering to lead tours through the relatively new Americore program, which provides tour guides and or interpreters at all 35 of Virginia's State Parks.

The first thing you should do is check out Kurt Steger’s pronounced “Stager”) website. If you have any doubts about his talent or the authenticity of his approach that should settle it.

It might very well be that he could mass produce pieces of art with his look and style. The fact is that he doesn’t.

He sequesters himself away on his mountaintop retreat, living in a small (I mean small trailer--maybe 300 square feet?) and living with his work.

He “watches” pieces of wood in their natural setting for years. Pulls them to the front of his work shop and “sits” with them (not literally) for sometimes months, until they tell him what it should look like as a finished product.

“What I want to point out is that we are always in connection with nature. Man and nature are always coming up against each other. Whether we are in the woods or in NYC we are always on that edge of meeting nature,” he said.

If you look at his work in any detail, you’ll see that he focuses on that place where man and nature meet. He is obsessed with it.

Think about how his approach to what he does compares to yours. Let me tell you that in my section of Roanoke County suburbia which I affectionately call cul de sac corner, we do not sit around and look at pieces of branch or roots until they “tell us what to do.”

Nor would we take one another seriously if we did. We are too busy running to soccer games and driving mini vans. Yet, after half a day with Kurt, who has forsaken family life to live a hermit-like existence, you understand that he is legit. He needs that time to:
a. think about the work
b. complete the work.

He simply is not willing to compromise. He wants to be able to kick off his shoes (“I prefer to work barefoot.”) and work to the wee hours of the morning if the mood strikes him, or in some cases, if he is driven by the passion to see a work manifest itself.

We went there to do a story on the Burden Boat Project, which in fact we did. But I am most pleased to have had the chance to meet Kurt, to see how he thinks and to realize that he is what he says he is.
The Burden Boat Project will appear at the Smith Farm Center for Healing and the Arts, as part of a show entitled, The 9/11 Arts Project. Healing 10 Years Later.

From the Smith Farm website: At the core of our work is the belief that each of us harbors enormous powers of healing within. We also recognize that there are both new and time-tested techniques to enhance health and well-being- even in the midst of crisis. Our integrated approach of stress reduction and inner quiet, art-making and telling your story, supportive listening and loving community, healthy lifestyle choices and state-of-the-art medical care can birth simple yet profound changes that radically transform the experience of illness.

The show runs from August 22 -- September 30, 2011. During that time visitors will be asked to write down their burdens on a piece of rice paper. When the show closes there will be a ceremony only this time Kurt will use water instead of the traditional fire. "Fire is too closely associated with the tragedy," he said. The water will destroy the rice paper and with it, the burdens written there.

Bluebirds Along the Parkway

The Blue Ridge Parkway is one of Roanoke’s great treasures. If you’ve followed my reporting and maybe even some of my activities over the years, you may have noticed that it’s a resource I’ve always enjoyed.

With a natural calling to run, bicycle and more recently, drive my Mini-Cooper, I’ve spent more time on the Parkway than most. Despite the time and mileage logged, I’ve never known the story behind the bluebird boxes that dot the landscape along Roanoke’s section of the road.

Were they maintained by someone? Monitored? A Boy Scout project of some kind? A state or federal project maybe when I was young my folks saying that bluebirds were fussy. Boxes had to be a certain height, face a certain direction and that getting a pair to nest was a great accomplishment. That was all I knew about bluebirds – except that there were these boxes I had run and biked past literally hundreds of times.

It turns out they are maintained by the Roanoke Valley Bird Club, which monitors the boxes during nesting season. Only members of the club or approved volunteers may open the boxes. They count the eggs and the young and turn the numbers over to a larger organization, which presumably puts them in a database to track bluebird numbers.

The Bird Club also works to protect the nests from snakes and other predators who prey upon they eggs and the young. They allowed me to help install a snake guard during our story.

Kudos to Alyce Quinn, who along with her husband and another couple, have been chairing the committee that oversees this bluebird trail and two others in the region. Alyce has been in charge of the trail for 13 of the 30 years the trail has been in existence.

(By the way, Alyce says the birds are not particularly fussy here in Virginia, they just want a nesting site that is safe. She says they depend upon man-made boxes because cavities in trees are too scarce in our modern world.)

When you watch the story – pay attention to the part where Alyce demonstrates her ability to identify the birds in the trees by their songs. It’s clear that the members of the bird club are very good at what they do – and that birding can be a lot of fun.

Next time you’re on the Parkway slow down and take a look at the boxes. You might see a mother bird looking out at you. You’ll definitely see the results of a lot of hard work by Alyce and her team.

Other bluebird information: Virginia Bluebird Society

California Superbike School

Note: The initial blog was in fact written on a smart phone while watching the WWE Smackdown at the Civic Center. Call it bad time management on my part. I am now adding some pix and links. -- jc


Reader beware. This blog is being written and filed from my iPhone. While I am attending the WWE Smackdown at the Roanoke Civic Center. I'll explain later.

Meanwhile, at the track....

Seeing motorcycles buzz by in excess of 150 mph is a thrill. But when you see these guys laying the bike over in the corner, hanging off the seat with an inch of rubber holding the road, it's like watching a magic trick.

This school takes that racer's ability to handle a bike, to the realm of everyday safety. The better you can handle a motorcycle, the reasoning goes, the less likely you are to wreck.

No one knows that better than Keith Code, a cycling icon who has raced at the top levels of the sport. Code has developed all kinds of training tools to help his students "get it."

The lean bike might be the coolest. He's attached training wheels with hydraulics to one of the school's superbikes. Now to be fair, I want to be clear that students xo not take to the track on this contraption. Instead, under the watchful eye of Code's team, they circle a parking lot at about 30 mph. They lean as if they were going much faster-- with essentially no chance of wiping out. After a few loops the instructor re-positions the rider on the bike. Small adjustments here make a big difference on the track or the highway.

I asked Code why he trains people on the BMW bikes, which are billed as the world's fastest production bikes, rated at 200 mph right out the box. "People think speed and power are dangerous," he said. "They are not.
Our incident rate has dropped by 40 percent since we went to these bikes."

Code even teaches U.S. Marines how to handle bikes so they don't get hurt off the battlefield. "Those guys think they are invincible. We need to give them training to match their confidence," he said.

Most of the guys in this class are far from marines or racers. They were mostly middle aged executives who could afford the roughly $2,200 cost of the two day event. But they were all smiles, hanging out with Code, and learning hang just right in the curves.

Wayne Henderson, Guitar Maker

Update: June 19, 2012.  I am pleased to announce that our TV segment on Wayne Henderson -- the one that accompanies this blog has won an Emmy Award from the National Academy of Television Arts and Sciences.  It is truly an honor for my photographer/editor Curt Schruth and I to have been able to do a story on a man as deserving as Wayne Henderson and to receive recognition for it.  

It's important to recognize the commitment of Fox 21/27 to this project.  There are very few places in today's television environment where a reporter is allowed to seek out these out-of-the way stories.  So thank you to Fox and to you, the viewers for appreciating our efforts.

The story can be viewed here. http://youtu.be/uFs5WCak_SU




It's hard to figure out how Wayne Henderson can be so humble.

Really. Either it's the best delivery of false modesty I've ever seen, or Henderson is truly gifted.

We know he's gifted when it comes to making and playing guitars. He played in my story, and he plays all around the world. He says younger players are better than he, but that he could once hold his own.

"That's the way it's supposed to be. The young hot player of the day deserves his time. I had mine," he told me when I asked about awards he has won at the famous Galax Fiddler's Convention.

As we reported on TV, Henderson charges only about $4,000 for one of his guitars, even though they often bring upwards of $40,000 on the secondary market. Even though the wait for a Henderson guitar is years -- from four to twenty depending upon whom you talk to.

"I never had any money growing up, don't see much need for any now," he said during our on-camera interview


Who says that?

Yet Henderson walks the proverbial walk. He lives about a mile from where he's always lived and gone to school. He produces masterpieces in a nondescript brick building. It's purely functional. I thought it would be at least, quaint. Take a look at the pictures. Judge for yourself.

As I reported from the Floyd Country Store earlier in May, the key to the popularity and success of the Crooked Road Music Trail and the mountain music it celebrates and promotes, is the authenticity.

I loved the line from the interview in which Henderson recounts having played at Carnegie Hall. When asked where he would play the following weekend he told the fan, "... at the Rugby Rescue Squad."

Now that's a great answer. It's funny. It's Clever. It's quick. It made me laugh, and I'm sure he trying to be funny. I wish I could be that witty. To be clear, Henderson knows it's funny. I'm sure it gets a great smile from anyone lucky enough to hear him tell the story. But I wonder if he was trying to be funny when he answered the question there in New York.

Henderson say he prefers to play the small towns around here. He really doesn't want fame and fortune. He really did keep his day job as a mail carrier for decades even though he could have earned more making guitars -- which he obviously loved.

He thought a pension and health insurance were more important than taking the risk. That's just common sense.

That's just Wayne Henderson.

Every year Henderson hosts the Wayne C. Henderson Music Festival and Guitar Competition on the third Saturday in June at the Grayson Highlands State Park.

The winner receives a Wayne Henderson guitar.

Since the festival began in 1995, more than $57,000 has been awarded to aid young, local, traditional musicians in continuing their music exploration and education.