
Grandpa Allen Putney (of Putney, Ireland, and Putney, VT), born in 1900, came from a line of Adirondack foresters, lumberman, and part-time fishing guides, and became a railroad engineer on the old Adirondack Line. His wife and 4 children (my mother was the youngest), for a time, lived in a cabin on a small lake only accessible by the train. He's in the back on the right. My mom and dad are the bride and groom. The year would have been 1959. Hey, look at Uncle Bob's wing-tips!

I also inherited his “fishing car”, along with his copy of Robert Traver’s Anatomy of a Fisherman (pub. 1964) that was given to him as a retirement gift by his co-workers. The car was a 1966 “Chevy II” Nova wagon in metallic blue that Grandpa bought upon retirement, and one that I suspect he felt was reminiscent of the Willy’s in Traver’s book.


The sticker was still in the glove box when I took ownership of the car (and the book and reel) around 1985 or 86. The car cost $2700 in 1966, and Grandpa had paid extra for a posi-traction rear end for those Adirondack back roads. I’m not sure he got to get all that much fishing in after he retired though, as his health deteriorated. He took to following Yankee baseball statistics. So I made sure the car got its share of fishing in, as I'm sure Grandpa knew I would. I have a soft spot for abandoned hunting dogs and fishing cars. And I made good use of the posi-traction too. A fishing and hunting buddy, Colin, would holler “Chevy II, comin’ thru!!” as we barreled our way to some, usually trout fishing or grouse hunting, destination; The back windows, half rolled down, streaked with Labrador retriever slobber. If you didn't roll the window down, your head would be wet by the time you got there.
I’ve used —and still use on occasion— the old Pflueger as a tribute to Grandpa Allen. (But only for small fish as it just doesn’t give line all that well! I wonder if I could fix that?


The rod here I built from an undated Exxon graphite blank. I bought two of them, in 1984, from the tackle shop I worked in. No one knew where they'd come from and it was thought they may have been prototypes. Both were 6ft long and very light weight, thin-walled blanks that I found had to be handled... delicately. One folded in two one morning, like a drinking straw, as I stripped line off the reel, readying to cast to a rising brookie in a tiny meadow stream I could easily step over. "Well.. there goes a lot of fun", I remember saying with a sigh. I wondered if maybe they hadn't worked out the hoop strength on these blanks then. However, on the second blank I took a 9lb rainbow on a 1kg line and spinning reel. Every time it leapt I had to bow to it, so it wouldn't land on the line and break it, and possibly fold the rod. Took 10min on a watch to best it, and it was darn tired. I decided that that was a bit too much of a stunt, and not to do that again. But I sure learned a LOT about fighting what I came to call "neutrally-buoyant hydrofoils"!
Here's my son, a few years back now, using his great-grandpa's Progress, dapping for bluegills.
