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I'm going to write my column this week on Dennis McCarty. Right now, I'm not up to it. I lost my best friend. Spent so many hours in so many ways with Dennis the last 6 or 7 years. We spent so many hours driving to the river, fishing together and just enjoying the river and our company. And, of course, the last 3-4 years I've enjoyed his company on his back deck at Red's Landing. We had many breakfast and lunch meals in Fayetteville pushed in between our work so we could talk about fishing, family and just laugh. He would listen to my stories and I'd listen to his. Some of it was fishing, but not all. And he always wanted a fishing report from me on my way back if he couldn't go. Not everyone wants to listen to someone else talk about their trip, but he always did.

That's what we did most of Wednsday-Friday this past week, just talk. Wayne covered the little bit of fishing we did Thursday morning.

Dennis and I talked about a lot of things on his deck Wednesday and Thursday night at Red's Landing. We sat up and talked both those nights for hours. He wasn't going to sleep much because of pain, so we'd just sit on the deck and tell stories.

Not many know this, but he had stepped away (or at least told the key people) from both TU and his other volunteer work in the last week. It wasn't because he was less enthused about it, but because he no longer felt he could be effective because of his failing health. He wanted it done right and didn't think he could do it right any more. He'd missed a couple of meetings at different points the last two months because at the last minute he was just too weak to make whatever drive was necessary.

We discussed all of that, and his other sad issue ... that he was finally getting things organized to lessen his role at work to get to fish and spend more time at the river ... but was no longer strong enough to even make the drive over there. Because of severe pain, he had started to take pain pills, and they weren't reducing the pain. And, he could not drive at all either in pain or with the pills.

He and I planned to go to Colorado next week to fish the high country together near Walden in and around what they call North Park, a trip I've made the last five years and a trip that Dennis had turned down in the past. He wasn't turning down the invitation this time, or until the last week. A buddy of mine who has leases there was going to take us up on horse back and fish lakes on the Continental Divide. Dennis had to cancel because his medical trip to Mayo had to be the same week. He talked about skipping out on the Mayo trip to go with me, but I was not going to let that happen. I was afraid of what Pat, his wife, might do to me!

Dennis was like a brother to me in some ways, and also like the father I lost 7 years ago. He entered my life just at the right time.

We talked about anything and everything and knew that was where it stopped.

He was an encourager, an advisor and definitely someone with whom you could confide. I never heard him say anything bad about anyone, even when some took opposite views.

He remembered the little things. He was there for you, and was he ever kind and gracious.

I knew when we left to go over to the cabin on Wednesday that what happened on Sunday night with Pat there could happen with me there. You just knew Dennis was weak and was getting weaker by the day.

Got the call from his grand daughter just a few minutes after Pat, his wife, had gone with the ambulance to Calico, and I headed that way pretty quickly.

Drove his tahoe and his labrador retriever back from Red's Landing on Monday afternoon.

This is the first time I've felt like looking at the forum. It's just been a tough two days.

What I know is that Dennis died at a place he loved, his cabin, and on the river. We talked a long time Wednesday night about just how much he loved it there, watching that beautiful river roll past.

I know Dennis and I both appreciated Wayne Reed letting us walk in down his steps at the Norfork on Thursday morning. Two things were obvious on Wednesday when we drove over: 1, there weren't going to be a lot of wade options on any of the water, and, 2, there were not a lot of wade options that would allow for the weak condition that Dennis was in late last week. So I'm grateful to Wayne, as was Dennis.

We were going to try to do it again Friday morning and Dennis woke me up at about 4:45 with a typical shout up the stairs to my bed I'll always remember, "Zero units! Come on down. It's going to be a great morning on the river!" About 15 minutes later as I was pulling on my waders on his deck, he told me, "You go on. I'm going to rest and you guys come back and get me for breakfast. Just a little tired right now." I said I'd stay and he wouldn't hear of it. Like he's said so many times, "You bring me back a fish story. And, you are only going to be gone an hour. They are going to turn on at 6 again." And, that's how it worked out Friday morning, and we did have a good breakfast with a good group about 7:15.

I have some Dennis McCarty stories for later this week in my column.

What a fine man. I was so lucky to call him friend.

-Clay