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A Fishing Adventure with Old Pals on the New River

“I think the bite pattern is boulder, current, sycamore shade, railroad gravel, foam,” Chris Ellis says. Ellis is a big guy, a goateed squirrel-dogger and self-described West Virginia hillbilly. He announces his prophecy from the bow seat of the raft, just as he launches an old-school Tiny Torpedo into a foamy eddy behind a boulder where the current pushes along a shore clad in railroad gravel. It lands in the deep shade of a riverside sycamore.

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