Hey! I've been to Taylorsville Lake!
It's a fine place for fishing, or at least it used to be. No idea what it's like now. On the great snake adventure, there were three of us: Steve "Snake" S., Shawn R., and myself. We were a pretty strange lot, I guess. Shawn was maybe the weirdest, a tall, lanky, very strange fellow. His dad was Jesse Stuart's biographer (and editor for at least one volume of JS's short stories, I think). Shawn was a really strange guy with an uncanny sense of direction and judgement for distance. He took pictures of the lake all through the process of them tearing down the towns, though the building of the dam, and flooding. He later made a slide show and then a video he called "Death of a Valley, Birth of a Lake" or something like that, which he set to Vangelis music. It seems a pretty emotional piece to me, but I was out with him when he took some of those pictures.
As for the foot, I'm pretty sure I was in eighth grade when J found it. Probably about 14. No excuse for bringing it in, really, except I wasn't thinking clearly. There was only a little bit of meat and tendon left on it.
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