It has been nearly 20 months since I departed without farewell or
explanation from this forum. Through my absence, I have missed the
company of my friends here as well as the peace of the sport itself. I
knew that sooner or later, I'd be back to say hello; and a chance
meeting with a ROFFian on another newsgroup reminded me that time was
overdue.

I have on occasion peered through the windows and satisfied myself that
ROFF was alive and well; and I have been both comforted and amused that
so little has changed; but the sad fact is that I have given up fly
fishing, and consequently had nothing on topic to contribute.

I came to this painful decision in May, 2004 following yet another
spring when family pressures overwhelmed my ability to wet a line with
enjoyable regularity. Every outing became a domestic confrontation.
The stress of having an intense desire to fish without a relaxing
opportunity to do so was killing me. To be honest, the wonderful
camaraderie and resource that is ROFF only made it worse. To learn
what I did not know made the thirst for that knowledge stronger. To
wish for experiences beyond my ability for realization added to the
frustration. The more I stayed here, the more I read of others'
experiences, the more I beat my head against the wall only further
highlighted my continued discouragement with my abilities and
opportunities. On top of that, I was unemployed and fast approaching
broke.

That June, my local fly shop, where I had begun my interest in the
sport, my brick and mortar connection to the sport, and refuge of
goodwill and good cheer, closed its doors for good. I took it as a
sign, and simply went cold turkey.

There were no hatches for me that year, no claves, no shad run, no
tying flies, no wrapping guides. In October, I did drag out the gear
for my annual Salmon River trip, more for my son than myself. On the
second day of that trip, my custom-made 8 wt. shattered in three places
as I leaned on a big coho. That was a stake in my heart; the last nail
in the coffin of my fly fishing life. I loved that rod as much as one
can bestow such affection on an inanimate object. Its demise
completely deflated me. I knew I would never rebuild that rod, and I
haven't. I was done.

So, in a nutshell, that's the depressing answer to the question,
"Whatever happened to Joe F.?"

In the intervening time, I've simply done other things, among them
the construction this past spring of a fantastically beautiful 17'
mahogany stitch & glue kayak for #1 son. It was through this avenue
that Kevin Vang recognized my screen name on rec.boats.paddling and
prompted me to stop in & say howdy.

I do miss you guys, especially my many good friends here. I still
check the NC & Illinois scores for no apparent reason. I find myself
inexplicably rooting for the Pats. Memories of claves past play in my
mind often. I wish I had more to offer ROFF these days; but I have
squat for on topic contributions to justify an occasional OT rant; and
my present job does not allow for much newsgroup time anyway.

I apologize for my sudden disappearance those many months ago, but I
never liked grand announcements anyway, and I wasn't about to make
one myself.

So, for the present, I am alive and reasonably well. Tight lines to
you all.

Joe F.