Backcountry Ink
CLOSING THE TAILGATE, I shouldered my pack and stepped off on a seven-mile hike into West Virginia’s backcountry. It was late in the season, increasing my chances for some secluded time on the water, drifting flies for wild brook trout.
On the way in, a black bear plied through bushes across the river, and a juvenile eagle banked around the trees. Other than these residents, I was alone. But as I neared the area where I planned to spend the
