Peace like a River~Fly fishing the Little J
The Juniata River streamed through my childhood summers like a steady, reliable friend. I canoed it with Girl Scouts, boated it with family and more recently viewed it on wintry train rides meandering south where it joins the Susquehanna.
I’ve stood on the Little J’s banks while my hubby pulled trout from its pools, content with my role as photographer. I never suspected that someday I’d be the one wearing waders and fishing boots, casting for rainbows in its clear waters.
Then again, I never suspected I’d get cancer.
I spent last weekend in the hamlet of Spruce Creek, a guest of Casting for Recovery with 13 other breast cancer warriors, all of us randomly selected to take part in a fly fishing adventure held at HomeWaters Fishing Club.
CfR, with its compassionate leaders and generous supporters, believes women with BC deserve –free of charge and free of the stress of treatments, home and workplace–a few peaceful days in a beautiful natural setting.
When we first met as a group everyone was asked to give a word to describe herself, beginning with our first initial. When it was my turn, “Juniata Jan” flowed out of my mouth. That wasn’t the only surprise of the weekend.
“Jeep Jill,” the only guest other than myself living with advanced cancer, is pragmatic about her future. She depends upon support groups as a life line and is fervent about efforts to increase funding for all kinds of cancer research. Everyone agreed BC has greater visibility than most types of the disease, which are equally devastating.
I was uncertain I’d fit in with a group of fisherwomen, assuming everybody was more coordinated than I’ve ever been. I still recall my stomach rippling with anxiety when I was reprimanded for my paddling style at canoe camp.
With trepidation, I approached a field to practice casting Saturday morning, expecting to fling my line wildly or make other awkward mistakes. I vaguely wondered why I’d accepted CfR’s invitation without considering embarrassing consequences. As I cast –I’m a lefty– our instructor Briget said I did a good job controlling my line. I glanced around to make sure she was speaking to me!
The following day we were each provided a private fishing guide to stand by our side in the river. Early on, I felt a sudden, exhilarating tug.
Oh boy! This is it!
“Fish on!” someone called.
There was magic in those words.
“Fish on!”
Juniata Jan caught the first fish that morning. I grinned to my hat brim as I lifted a lively brown trout out of the net and then released it to swim another day.
Thigh deep in water with my trusty guide, hours later I hooked a bigger rainbow.
“Fish on!” someone again cried, as they had every time a woman’s rod bent under the weight of a trout.
“Big ones are harder to land,” my guide consoled me when mine got away. “Feeling that tug, knowing you’ve made a good cast in the right spot is really what it’s all about.”
I now have two flies–miniature hooks decked with tiny feathers and shiny beads—evidence I accomplished something I thought was beyond my skill set.
It makes me ask, “When else have I assumed I wasn’t good enough to do?”
And that raises the question, “What is success?”
For me, it’s being at peace about what I’m doing, trusting I’m in the right place at the right time, aligned with God’s intentions for me in that moment.
For sure, success is measured by more than the fish we catch. Briget, a founder of this event, said she fly-fished a year before netting anything. “A day of fishing with no fish is better than a day with no fishing,” she said, laughing.
We gathered before breakfast on Sunday for stream-side reflections. I was asked to read a meditation I’d learned as a scout song 60-some years earlier:
Peace I ask of thee o river,
peace, peace, peace.
When I learn to live serenely,
cares will cease.
From the hills I gather courage,
visions of the days to be,
Strength to lead and faith to follow,
all is given unto me.
Peace I ask of thee o river,
peace, peace, peace. (traditional folk song)
The Source of all Courage speaks to those seeking refuge from dire circumstances: Behold, I will extend peace to her like a river… (Isaiah 66:2, English Standard Version of the Bible).
An old songs says, “I’ve got peace like a river in my soul.” I’m wading through rough waters at this unforeseen bend in life’s river, grateful I’m moving more serenely than through past torrents. I left my Casting for Recovery weekend happy that, while cancer steals much, peace was my prize catch.
All will be well.
This event is sponsored by Casting for Recovery of Western Pennsylvania, https://www.facebook.com/CfRWPA/ held at the beautiful HomeWaters Fishing Club: https://www.homewatersclub.com/fishing/
Texting Thru Recovery/ Indiana Gazette /Copyright © Jan Woodard 2019
12 COMMENTS
So GLAD you got to experience fly fishing on the Juniata with Casting for Recovery, Jan! My sister-in-law, who is 78, did the weekend in Eastern PA this June. I told her my experience with them was fantastic, and she had a blessed time as well. Seeing Briget and Gretchen’s smiling faces again in your photos and noticing that I think you and I had the same highly skilled, very friendly guide lifted my heart with the memories of my time on that beautiful river. Yes, “Fish on!” and “All shall be well!” Praying for you.🙏❤
I now understand why my husband is an avid fisherman, Rebecca, like my guide, Peter. And glad to share this special experience with you across the span of a year!
You are indeed an inspiration my friend. I, like you, would think fishing is not my thing but when you open your heart to God, you are blessed with many opportunities! Thank you for sharing your blessings with us!
I love you, Belva!
Every time I return to Centre County I am reminded of the 23rd Psalm. I can feel my blood pressure lowering and a sense of peace surrounding me.
It is no longer my home, but I have in-laws there, and many memories of growing up there. Two favorite places I try to visit are Whipples Dam and Stone Valley. Regardless of the time of year naturw is in its glory. I have a blanket, a book, and binoculars in my car when I go so I can find a quiet spot to watch and listen to nature. Sitting quietly, the bird come close, the chipmunks and squirrels forrage for bits to eat, turtles crawl onto logs to sun, and fish jump and splash. I’ve even seen a black bear at Whipples Dam. if I feel like it, there is swimming, canoeing, and fishing. There are newts to net and birds to Identify, and places to wander amid the flowers, ferns, shrubs, and trees.
It is a place to be still and be at peace with God.
I wish I’d known you in high school, Janet. I think we have a lot in common; as I remember, Karen & I connected on several levels. Whipples was a favorite spot for family picnics, finding salamanders, swimming and even ice skating. And my 6th grade class spent a week at Stone Valley, like kids in my children’s generation did at environmental centers. We are so blessed.
Beautiful & inspiring description of your weekend. Serenity & peace despite facing disease, & oddly, sometimes because of it.
Thank you, Janine! It’s hard to know light if you’ve never seen darkness!
Glad you had a great time fishing. I remember many good times swimming and ice skateing at whipples dam and also lots of deer in the area. I think I was at Stone valley once or twice. Also at state park at Spruce several times. I think Raystown dam is a branch of the Juniata. God bless you. You are in my prayers every day.
Thanks for sharing those memories, George. I’m blessed to have you as my praying brother & to have spent time together, this summer. Shawn’s family will be with us, today — Labor Day.
Jan, I am so very excited that you did this. I remember the first time I put on waders and walked out into a trout stream with my husband. It wasn’t graceful but I had such a wonderful time. It was the first time of looking good in my waders. It is really fun, isn’t it?
Sure is!
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