Allen is a good friend of mine, and I always enjoy his stories. I hope you like it, too.
I went fishing on Wednesday full of anticipation of a myriad of large trout but also with a sense of uneasiness at releasing my latest book two days earlier.Fly fishing and writing combine to be the counterpoint of my life’s rhythms.
After arriving at the North Mills River, I was sweltering from the unusual heat but still eager to tie into a few fish. I waded in and tied on a small soft hackle green nymph figuring the fish were bound to be on the bottom. I was right…. they were on the bottom and apparently comatose from the heat. The fishing progressed slowly without so much as a bump (to use a bait tosser’s term). I had arrived tired and the mid-day sun seemed to have whispered, “You should have stayed home fool….” I went to autopilot casting mode as I was quickly convinced the day was going to be a…
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