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Want a peaceful, picturesque way to stay active while social distancing? Fly fishing could be the cure.

Fly-fishing in the backcountry for native brook trout is the ultimate in social distancing, a solitary pursuit with a pair of waders and wading boots, a fly-rod and some dry flies.

Off the trail, you are focused on catching trout while aware of natural – and perhaps supernatural – surroundings.

That was the case for me two Fridays ago when I explored the Hughes River in Shenandoah National Park. More stream than river, the Hughes starts as a trickle on Stony Man Mountain, empties into the Hazel, which empties into the Rappahannock, which empties into the Chesapeake Bay.

Usually, I start at the lower park boundary and hike in, but because that trailhead is adjacent to a more popular trail, the parking lot was overflowing with vehicles the weekend of March 22. The trail resembled Monday morning at O’Hare more than it did a peaceful hike. Social distancing protocols were ignored, and park officials were not pleased, closing county roads that lead to those trailheads.

Responsible hiking has become a hot topic as people look for a respite from confinement during various stay-at-home orders. It’s best to stay in your area/region and avoid popular hikes. Find trailheads with parking spaces for six, seven cars to minimize your contact with other hikers. If you know your way around these mountains and trails, you can avoid people.

A hike through Shenandoah brings you to some prime fly-fishing locations. Jeff Zillgitt, USA TODAY

This is a slight deviation from the Working Out From Home concept so please adhere to government mandates and use common sense.

You can access the Hughes from up top along Skyline Drive, and that’s what I did, hiking down 1.5 miles to the stream. (Now, that same trailhead along Skyline Drive is essentially closed, too. So before you go out in your area, check to make sure you have access.)

I parked at the trailhead, threw my waders, wading boots, flies, water and sandwich into a backpack, grabbed the fly-rod and began the hike, which starts off steep and rocky before a more flat, gradually descending trail takes you to the Hughes.

A view of Corbin cabin located in Shenandoah National Park. Jeff Zillgitt, USA TODAY

Families lived in the various sections of what is now the national park. Along this trail lived the Nicholson and Corbin families. George Corbin built a cabin streamside in 1909, and it still stands today.

Corbin carved out a life off the land, which included farming and moonshine (apple and peach brandy and whiskey), before he was removed from the land. That’s another story.


It’s said the area is haunted by Corbin’s second wife, who died in the cabin while giving childbirth. In an interview, George said he walked four miles into town to get milk for the newborn after she died then dug her grave.

I’ve never noticed anything unusual along this stream near the cabin, which is where I ate lunch. But in the mountains, not everything is what it seems. The shaded boulder 50 yards ahead looks like a hunched black bear, and the stick on the ground in the leaves looks like a rattlesnake at first glance.

I tied on a purple Adams parachute fly and began fishing. The trout are small but feisty – they survived the ice age – and vibrant with their blue, red and orange spots. What they lack in size, they make up for in beauty, one of the most colorful of freshwater fish.

The reward for a hike down and back up is the opportunity to catch native trout in clear streams. I don’t know how many trout I caught; keeping score has never been my ideal day on the water.

Following lunch, I fished some more, caught some more and hiked back – about a 900-foot gain in elevation. My legs were tired and sore, my heart was pumping and my mind at ease by the time I reached my car.

The late poet and author Jim Harrison implored everyone to walk in the woods, “to draw away your poisons to the point that your curiosity takes over and ‘you,’ the accumulation of wounds and concomitant despair, no longer exist.”

Can’t wait to return.

Jeff Zillgitt | USA TODAY

Click HERE to read the full story on the USA Today website.

Roanoke’s Orvis production center turns from embroidery to mask making

In a facility designed to make personalized products, Roanoke’s Orvis employees are now making personal face masks.

Mike Rigney, the vice president of operations for Orvis in Roanoke, said the effects of the pandemic have forced Orvis to close stores across the country. In Roanoke, it’s also required furloughs and the layoffs of 30 to 40 percent of its workforce, Rigney said.

But with the 100 or so employees still working in their operations center, Rigney said they are keeping busy contributing to the community.

For the last two weeks, staff who normally hem pants and do embroidery work for personalized items are making face masks. They’re using the sewing machines to make medical-style masks as well as cloth masks. So far, Rigney said they’ve donated around 900 of them to the Roanoke Rescue Mission.

Their own employees are using masks, too, while maintaining a distance between each other in the 300,000-square-foot center, Rigney said. But they are also working on a partnership to distribute masks to the staff with Feeding America Southwest Virginia.

Rigney said the staff making the masks has been excited about the opportunity.

“It was very energizing for the associates that are working here. It is very consistent with our values; we have an ongoing relationship with the Rescue Mission so seeing us take it to another level with another opportunity,” he said. “I think the group felt pretty motivated, pretty excited about it.”

Rigney said so far, they’re making 300 to 400 masks a day. Eventually, he said, they’d like to create around 600 per day.

By Leanna Scachetti | Copyright 2020 WDBJ7

Click HERE for full story and video at WDBJ7 website.