I drove hell bent Washington, DC to Jolo, West Virginia way far south deep in the heart of coal country. All for the purpose of photographing a Pentecostal service where handling of venomous snakes would be the featured attraction. (Vinimis snakes as it’s pronounced in the local vernacular.)
It’s the height of trout season and many roadside pull-overs along state highways are filled with jumbo pickup trucks, the favored vehicle of local fishermen. I spot an angler now by the river’s edge all suited up in a fishing jacket with a willow tree pattern, better to blend in with the river side flora. This gentleman is a bit annoyed when I ask for a picture and he’s not keen on the idea of a book about West Virginia either.