ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD

The dean of fly-fishing turns in another celebration of the free, unfettered life spent working a quiet stream.

Though Gierach confesses to enjoying a good practical joke, he allows that sometimes—as with the case of an errant rubber snake—they go a bit too far. Moreover, they can lead to a bad-karma jinx. “At a certain age,” he writes sagely, “you’ve made so many dumb mistakes that you’re able to identify the kind of faulty thinking that leads up to them.” Snake stowed away, his fishing game immediately improved, and he notes that “although fishing is no longer really about success, catching fish is still somehow right at the heart of the game.” The author catches fish with the best of them, and in this collection of sketches, he takes us to some fine waters—perhaps the most inviting of them in Alaska, where he found gigantic rainbow trout and the little-known sheefish. “They’re good to eat, but they don’t freeze well for shipping, so few outside Alaska have ever tasted one,” he writes. The more remote the stream, the better, and the more knowledgeable the angler, the better as well. On that note, Gierach opines on the best flies for different occasions, such as the Turle knot that he whipped up on a New Brunswick salmon river only to have his Mi’kmaq guide study it “from every angle,” then retie it “with a Turle knot that, I thought, looked exactly like mine” but that yielded success in the form of two fish. The author also describes bespoke fishing rods and the excellence that underlies their making as well as the need for an angler to know how to read weather and avoid unnecessary danger. On that note, Gierach, ever self-effacing and pleasantly conversational, confesses to good luck, dodging both fires and deadly floods through both caution and dumb luck.

Just the thing for any fan of fly-tying and artful casting.