‘Do you have a license’

Katie Dolac / Culpeper Star Exponent
Published: May 23, 2007

I was following Charlie Meck and 1st Lt. David Folkerts through the wilderness at Rose River Farm Sunday.

They were paired for the first Project Healing Waters 2-fly tournament, a fishing rehabilitation program for wounded war veterans.

Meck, a seasoned fly fisher, was decked out in waterproof boots and waders and had a fishing rod in one hand and a walking stick in the other.

Folkerts, a wounded Iraq war veteran, was also decked out in waders and carried a fishing rod. They were on a reconnaissance mission to find their assigned stream position.

I, the reporter girl who knew little about flies or fishing, was  in jeans and sneaks and with a camera and notepad in hand.

My presence forced them to detour at every crossing, because they - being perfect gentleman - were trying to prevent me from acquiring two soggy shoes.

I could tell I was slowing them down, so I made a suggestion."Why don't you take whatever route you need, and I'll just meet you there," I said.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a spunky, pint-sized Boy Scout behind the wheel of a small, golf-cart sized utility vehicle. His name was Kyle. He had a firm handshake and he was offering me a ride.

"How old are you-" I asked.

"Eleven."

"Do you have a driver's license-" I asked nervously.
Dumb question.

"Kyle," I looked at him blankly before hopping willy-nilly into a vehicle under a sixth-grader's operation. "I hope you know what you're doing, because I'd like to live to see tomorrow."

Folkerts smiled in amusement before he disappeared into the tree line with Meck.

"The last thing I want to do is hurt the press," Kyle said.
Smart kid. Probably wouldn't fare well in the headlines, I told him. He was a Boy Scout, after all.

Kyle lifted up the windshield to allow air to circulate and we were off - and I mean fast. He mashed his little foot on the gas pedal and we were whizzing by trees and ramping off rocks at maximum speed. I held on for dear life.

"I can't drive 55," he exclaimed.

(I was quite impressed by the Sammy Hagar reference, but also frightened).

"No really, I can't," he said, as if to imply he would if he could. Maximum speed on that puppy was about 25 mph, he most graciously pointed out.

Just then, we careened into the flight of an oblivious fluttery butterfly. Impact was enough to elicit an "ouch." (Hey man, it hurt.)

I arrived at my destination in one piece. Sadly I cannot say the same for the butterfly.

I checked my sensitive items and thanked him.
"Not bad driving skills," I said.

Yeah he scared me, but heck, who was I to criticize- I have a lead foot, too. And he was a Boy Scout, after all.

Hours later I was riding in the back of another vehicle and we passed Kyle. His new passengers were two elderly veterans, with terrified looks carved in their faces.

I just shook my head and grinned.

Katie Dolac would like to thank all those who shared comments about her new hairstyle. She's especially appreciative of those who extended positive remarks, because they made her feel warm and fuzzy inside. She can be reached at 825-0771 ext. 138 or .