“As boys growing up, we knew the Rappahannock like we knew our own bedrooms. Heck, all of us kids did. Every summer the banks were peppered with children, fishing, swimming, exploring. It was the perfect place for us. Don’t see a lot of it these days. People are too busy with those damn gadgets, eating potato chips . . . .”
“Anyway, summer of ‘37 was terrible hot and dry. We were in the middle of a long, drought. The river was at the lowest point I’d ever seen. There were sections up by Falmouth that’d run dry, rocks popping out into the air that hadn’t been exposed to direct sunlight in over a century. Even so, there are sections that’ll never run totally dry, depths unknown to even the most experienced river rat. I say “river rat” with the utmost respect. Of the most dedicated river ra
