All the Time in the World
(Sprache: Englisch)
The master philosopher of rivers and streams explains why fly-fishing is the answer to life's problems.
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The master philosopher of rivers and streams explains why fly-fishing is the answer to life's problems.
Klappentext zu „All the Time in the World “
Discover the answer to life's most pressing problems through the joy of fly-fishing from master philosopher John Gierach.Once again, John Gierach tells the world why the pastime of fly-fishing makes so much sense-except when it doesn't. In sparkling prose, with more than a touch of humour, he recalls the joys of landing that trout he's been watching for the last hour-and then losing an even fatter one a little later. Joy and frustration mix in Gierach's latest appreciation of the fly-fishing life as he takes us from his home waters on the Front Range of the Rockies in Colorado to fishing meccas all over North America. From fishing lodges in Alaska to memories of the local creek in the Midwest where he grew up, Gierach reminds us about the indispensability of the natural world around us.
Lese-Probe zu „All the Time in the World “
Chapter 1: Fishermen are Everywhere 1 FISHERMEN ARE EVERYWHERE
Fishermen are everywhere; all it takes is for the subject to come up, and somehow it always does. I had a plumber out the other day to look at my clogged toilet. When I explained that the plunger had no effect, he smiled in the kindly way of a doctor comforting a worried parent and said that yes, he'd seen this before, it wasn't terminal and he knew just what to do. But then on his way to the bathroom, he stopped to look at the fish photos I have tacked up in my office.
"You like to fly-fish," he said. "I'm an ice fisherman myself..." and we were off to the races.
Not long before that, my firewood guy, Fred, was out making a delivery and as we unloaded two cords of dry pine he explained to me, as he always does, how many more trout I'd catch if I'd only use live bait. Fred thinks I fish with artificial flies because I'm squeamish about worms and he is only trying to be helpful, but of course, he's wasting his time. People fish the way they want to and won't be talked out of it. After you've explained in detail how your method is better than theirs in every conceivable way, they'll smile benignly and say, "Well, this is just how I like to do it," and you can't argue with that.
Once I was in northern Michigan fishing with a friend, a local who seemed to know every sweet spot in the county as well as every year-round resident of his hometown of Charlevoix. One afternoon, we stopped at the docks to see how the weigh-in for the Trout Tournament was going and ran into a guy my friend had known since grade school. We told him we'd been out fly-fishing the local rivers and he said, "I thought about getting into fly-fishing once, but it's too expensive."
My friend and I exchanged a look. This guy had just stepped off a cabin cruiser suitable for the high seas of Lake Michigan, with twin 50-horse outboards, military-grade fish-finding electronics, and enough tackle to stock a Bass Pro Shop
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that, all together, must have set him back six figures. We could have explained how much fly-fishing that kind of money could buy, but at the moment the guy couldn't have been happier with things as they were. He'd just brought in a 30-pound chinook that he thought might land him first place in the salmon category, which would be worth a thousand dollars in prize money, a mount of the fish by a good local taxidermist, and a place in local history. So we wished him luck with his fish, grabbed dinner at a café, and then headed off to catch the evening hatch.
When I took up fly-fishing in the late 1960s, I was naturally lumped in with the influx of hippies who'd recently adopted the sport and who were held responsible for techniques that were considered heresies then, but have since become standard practice. I can't say it was a bum rap because I looked and sometimes acted the part, but in fact I was never entirely successful as a hippie. I believed in peace, love, and the simple life in a general way, and still do, but my redneck streak ran deep and the yin-and-yang symbol you saw everywhere then as an emblem of balance and harmony always reminded me of two pork chops in a frying pan.
And I wasn't much interested in heresy, either. Early on I fell in with a crowd that favored the bamboo rods and hackled dry flies that were already beginning to look dated by the early '70s. Maybe we'd turned our backs on so much of our buttoned-down upbringing that we were attracted to this harmless backwater of sporting tradition as a kind of security blanket, or maybe we just understood that those guys had been at this for a while and knew things we didn't. Whatever the reason, we imagined ourselves to be
When I took up fly-fishing in the late 1960s, I was naturally lumped in with the influx of hippies who'd recently adopted the sport and who were held responsible for techniques that were considered heresies then, but have since become standard practice. I can't say it was a bum rap because I looked and sometimes acted the part, but in fact I was never entirely successful as a hippie. I believed in peace, love, and the simple life in a general way, and still do, but my redneck streak ran deep and the yin-and-yang symbol you saw everywhere then as an emblem of balance and harmony always reminded me of two pork chops in a frying pan.
And I wasn't much interested in heresy, either. Early on I fell in with a crowd that favored the bamboo rods and hackled dry flies that were already beginning to look dated by the early '70s. Maybe we'd turned our backs on so much of our buttoned-down upbringing that we were attracted to this harmless backwater of sporting tradition as a kind of security blanket, or maybe we just understood that those guys had been at this for a while and knew things we didn't. Whatever the reason, we imagined ourselves to be
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Autoren-Porträt von John Gierach
John Gierach is the author of numerous books on fly-fishing. His work has appeared in Field & Stream, Gray's Sporting Journal, and Fly Rod & Reel, where he is a regular columnist. He also writes a column for the monthly Redstone Review. He lives in Lyons, Colorado.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: John Gierach
- 2023, 224 Seiten, Maße: 13,9 x 22 cm, Gebunden, Englisch
- Verlag: Simon & Schuster US
- ISBN-10: 1501168657
- ISBN-13: 9781501168659
- Erscheinungsdatum: 26.04.2023
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
"Shrewd, perceptive and wryly funny. . . . Mr. Gierach, the man who coined the term 'trout bum,' is arguably the best fishing writer working." Bill Heavey The Wall Street Journal
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