Читать книгу Fly Fishing Virginia - Beau Beasley - Страница 5

When I set out to write Fly Fishing Virginia, I thought it would be a simple project. I quickly learned that I would not be able to write this book alone. Along the way I had a lot of encouragement and assistance. First, I owe the most thanks to my wonderful wife Leila who edited every word of this book and read and reread the manuscript many times.

I am also greatly indebted to my good friend and mentor King Montgomery, who helped out a great deal with photography and has always encouraged my writing. Thanks also to C. Boyd Pfeiffer and Lefty Kreh for their words of advice about how to write a book. Lee Walker and Larry Mohn with the Virginia Department of Game and Inland Fisheries also gave me some great advice about what to cover. Most Virginians have no idea how hard this agency works for its sportsmen.

Many thanks to the folks at Fly Fish America, who gave me my first national writing platform. To the many guides and shop owners who assisted me, space constraints prevent me from listing each of you individually—but you know who you are, and I thank you. And I would be remiss if I did not mention the hard work of Howard Fisher, Doug Goewey, and the other fine folks at No Nonsense Fly Fishing Guidebooks, and map creator, photographer and designer Pete Chadwell of Dynamic Arts.

I would also especially like to recognize John Ross, Paul Kearney, Dan Genest and Captain Cory Routh for their technical assistance and advice. Last but not least, I wish to thank John Loss, a firefighter’s firefighter, who knew that I would write this book before I did. Thanks, John. You have no idea how much you really helped.

My introduction to fishing came from my father, the hardest-working man I’ve ever known. Although he routinely worked long hours and often traveled several hundred miles away from our humble home in South Hill, Virginia, in pursuit of work, he made time to take me fishing. I still remember him loading me and my little brother Jason and all of our gear into his old blue pickup truck. My loving mother, a newspaper reporter at the time, knew how important this family time was and sometimes joined us on our fishing excursions.

Years before I became a fly fisherman, I remember my father casting to resident bluegill and the occasional bass in a nearby farm pond. Looking back, my fondest childhood memories are of the times I spent fishing with my Daddy.

It is my sincere hope that you enjoy using this book as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. I also hope that if given the opportunity, you take your own children fishing with you. Those memories may last a lifetime.

—Beau Beasley