On The Fly

Let’s face it, there’s a certain danger in reading John Gierach's Trout Bum . His wit, self-deprecation, and sharp, effortless satire are entirely infectious. If you aren't careful, his words will inspire you to drop everything, wade into a freezing river, and try to outsmart a creature with a brain the size of a lentil. In my case, re-reading Gierach recently didn't send me straight to the river. It sent me digging through the dusty, spider-guarded corners of my garage. In the early 1990s, seeking a natural escape from Manhattan's concrete canyons, I decided to learn to cast a fly rod. I bought an Orvis Rocky Mountain —eight-and-a-half feet, three ounces, built for a five-weight line—and had absolutely no idea how to use it. To avoid aimlessly whipping the water like scrambling eggs, I took fly-fishing lessons from Al Cucci, co-author of Hatches , on the Delaware River. With his guidance, I fished renowned waters: the AuSable in New York and Michigan, and New Jersey...

In this episode, Unexpected Encounter . . . Life presents peculiar twists that make us ponder the universe’s mysteries. Last week, I found an unexpected book :  Another Lousy Day in Paradise ,  A 1996 fly fishing journal by the inspiring humorist and author John Gierach.  It may seem strange for a random book selection to inspire such reflection but stay with me. I’ve always been a bookworm, often buying more than I can read—ask my wife. This book had been gathering dust on my shelf for over 28 years. As I delved into Gierach’s witty and insightful writing, I was captivated by his unique perspective on life, fly fishing, and the outdoors. In 1992, while living in Manhattan, I stumbled into a shop on 5th Avenue called The Urban Angler . I purchased my first fly rod, an Orvis eight-and-a-half foot, three-ounce, five-weight beauty! I remember thinking Dad would say, “Why the hell would you buy a fishing rod in New York City?” “Because I want to learn to Flyfish.” “In New Yo...