![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS-17ED6pN2bjrJvyImdn6XTWjRurnXsVoEfbHuYjZbNmuwZGfhzcSXPOhiNNPNyr-aU2L-YQvuD_oYOKBV_MU4HAus0ZXdvT_6njAWRScSBbqRRPnHEniCZAH_ksAFlpsHYBi_nFhiEEc/s640/Snowy+Woodpile.jpg)
I’m supposed to be standing in a Smokey Mountain creek right now, a fly rod in my hand. Instead, I’m sitting here at home, gazing out of my window at a winter landscape, held at bay by snow-obscured, icy roadways. It’s Mother Nature's latest, and most desperate, effort to disrupt my fishing plans. I should be disappointed, but I'm really very happy to be home.