Claude’s secret but likely identifiable fishing spot My first Sunday in Ashton, Claude, the Washington and Lee Intern, did me the great kindness of taking me fly fishing for the first time in my entire life. I am not in any way an experienced angler. I’ve caught one fish in my entire life. I can’t identify it, and I only caught it with the help of my vastly more experienced little brother. Upon arriving here, it immediately became clear that my utter lack of angling experience simply would not do, and I had to correct it. So I pulled on my waders, crammed my feet into my boots, and got ready to begin my learning journey.   Though I can’t fish to save my life, I love the water. My family has called me a “creek chub” my entire life due to my affinity for swimming in the winding, spring-fed Arkansas creeks in my mom’s hometown. Growing up, you’d have to basically drag me out of the water—and that didn’t mean the battle was over. I was slippery. I’d jump back in if you turned your head for even the smallest second. And I love fish. In the crystal clear