Drifting On The Current

I learned a short time ago of the passing of Joe McLaughlin, fly fisher, of Balls Eddy, Pennsylvania.

I met Joe by chance one evening at the Troutskellar bar at West Branch Angler when he was talking bird hunting with Ben Sheard, the fly shop manager. Joe’s voice had a habit of carrying even in a crowded bar, and I took notice when he mentioned the name Dennis Labare. We talked once his conversation with Ben concluded, sharing our connection with a common friend. Joe knew Dennis from fishing the Catskills in the seventies, and I from working for the conservation of Chambersburg Pennsylvania’s Falling Spring Branch in the nineties.

We became fast friends moving on from that evening, and shared many a fine hour along these rivers that had such a strong hold on both of us. Joe was a fine dry fly angler and tyer.

Perhaps one thing common as we age is the fact that we become more convinced of our beliefs and opinions, and Joe and I both held strong to our own. Strong feelings led to an end to our close friendship and our times along the Catskill rivers. Our contacts during the past few years were few and brief, though personable. I saw him last during the summer, fishing the somewhat lackluster sulfur hatch on the upper West Branch. We exchanged a few words across the water as we passed, idle talk of the ins and outs of the season, and parted wishing each other good luck as I waded on downstream.

I learned just a few days ago that he was ill.

Like all men of common bond, we had our agreements and our differences. I chose to remember Joe for the good days, when friendship and the appreciation for wild trout and bright water created good memories. I wish him well as his spirit fishes on, around the bend.