- TOP PLAYERSOffensePABLO S. TORRE | August 20, 2012
- TAMPA BAY buccaneersENEMY lines WHAT A RIVAL COACH SAYSJune 28, 2012
- Faces in the CrowdJune 11, 2001
"Five eleven. I was born in Plantsville, Conn."
"I got a brother there," said a man at the counter, adding: "Where do you plan to fish?"
"On the Dartmouth Grant—the Dead Diamond River."
"You can't get in there, not till after he goes. They won't let you through the gate without you got a signed permit from Bob Monahan."
"Well," I said, "I've got one."
I paid for my license. As I went out I could feel the men in the restaurant staring at my back. I didn't turn to see their expressions but I knew no one had ever stared at me like that before.
Seven miles back over Route 16 I turned left on the narrow, gravel, woods road leading into the Dartmouth Grant. At the Gate Camp, on the west bank of the Diamond River, a heavy steel cable with red flags hanging on it barred my passage. Mrs. Grace Turner, the dark-eyed, attractive lady who commands the Gate Camp, came out, took my permit and read it carefully.
"I guess you're all right," she said.
"I hope so," I said.
She went back into the camp, pulled a lever and the cable dropped to the gravel. I drove over it and turned sharp right to cross the bridge over the Diamond River.