Goodnews Bay

Goodnews or Gilgamesh?

Story by Troy Letherman

Fishing the Fifty-year Flood

The poppers and Pollywogs need particular housing, not least for fear of crushing foam and spun deer hair into oddly-shaped washtubs of perpetual threat to capsize. Streamers get their own box, too, a great multicolored flowering of marabou and hackle feathers strapped to big hooks and sporting lead eyes for those deeper-diving patrols. Floating lines, leaders, some extra 2X for tippet and then the reels; packing the reels is like saying goodbye to the encumbrance of responsibility, a final rite for the idea that contributing in some way to my fellow man is the least that should be offered in repayment for oxygen.

I hit the airport in a hell of a mood, floating on a mixture of ignorance and a loose, live-in-the-moment kind of courage that comes on a man when the wind picks up and no one’s there to talk about selfishness. Goodnews Bay was on the departures board and my bags were already tagged with the number of the cabin I’d occupy upon arrival at the lodge, a sign of professionalism far beyond what I expected or deserved. This content is available for subscribers only.

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