Standing In A River Waving A Stick

Brilliant, witty, perceptive essays about fly-fishing, the natural world, and life in general by the acknowledged master of fishing writers. With his inimitable combination of wit and wisdom, John Gierach once again celebrates the fly-fishing life in Standing in a River Waving a Stick and notes its benefits as a sport, philosophical pursuit, even therapy: “The solution to any problem—work, love, money, whatever—is to go fishing, and the worse the problem, the longer the trip should be.” After all, fly-fishing does teach important life lessons, says Gierach—about solitude, patience, perspective, humor, and the sublime coffee break. Recounting both memorable fishing spots and memorable fish, Gierach discusses what makes a good fly pattern, the ethics of writing about undiscovered trout waters, the dread of getting skunked, and the camaraderie of fellow fishermen who can end almost any conversation with “Well, it’s sort of like fishing, isn’t it?” Reflecting on a lifetime of lessons learned at the end of a fly rod, Gierach concludes, “The one inscription you don’t want carved on your tombstone is ‘The Poor Son of a Bitch Didn’t Fish Enough.’” Fortunately for Gierach fans, this is not likely to happen.

The author visits his favorite trout-filled waters from the Colorado foothills to British Columbia and points in between. 15 illustrations.

Brilliant, witty, perceptive essays about fly-fishing, the natural world, and life in general by the acknowledged master of fishing writers. With his inimitable combination of wit and wisdom, John Gierach once again celebrates the fly-fishing life in Standing in a River Waving a Stick and notes its benefits as a sport, philosophical pursuit, even therapy: “The solution to any problem—work, love, money, whatever—is to go fishing, and the worse the problem, the longer the trip should be.” After all, fly-fishing does teach important life lessons, says Gierach—about solitude, patience, perspective, humor, and the sublime coffee break. Recounting both memorable fishing spots and memorable fish, Gierach discusses what makes a good fly pattern, the ethics of writing about undiscovered trout waters, the dread of getting skunked, and the camaraderie of fellow fishermen who can end almost any conversation with “Well, it’s sort of like fishing, isn’t it?” Reflecting on a lifetime of lessons learned at the end of a fly rod, Gierach concludes, “The one inscription you don’t want carved on your tombstone is ‘The Poor Son of a Bitch Didn’t Fish Enough.’” Fortunately for Gierach fans, this is not likely to happen.

Brilliant, witty, perceptive essays about fly-fishing, the natural world, and life in general by the acknowledged master of fishing writers. “Once an angler has become serious about the sport (and ‘serious’ is the word that’s used), he’ll never again have enough tackle or enough time to use it. And his nonangling friends and family may never again entirely recognize him, either.” In other words, he (or she) will have entered Gierach territory. And fishermen who choose to brave the crowds at the big hold, commune with the buddies at the “family pool,” or even wade into questionable waters in the dark of night are sure to recognize themselves in Even Brook Trout Get the Blues. Whether debating bamboo versus graphite rods, describing the pleasure of fishing in pocket waters or during a spring snow in the mountains, or recounting a trip in pursuit of the “fascinatingly ugly” longnose gar, Gierach understands that fly-fishing is more than a sport. It’s a way of life in which patience is (mostly) rewarded, the rhythms of the natural world are appreciated, and the search for the perfect rod or ideal stream is never ending. It is not a life without risks, for as Gierach warns: “This perspective on things can change you irreparably. If it comes to you early enough in life, it can save you from ever becoming what they call ‘normal.’” Even Brook Trout Get the Blues will convince you that “normal” is greatly overrated.

Brilliant, witty, perceptive essays about fly-fishing, the natural world, and life in general by the acknowledged master of fishing writers. Proving that fishing is not just a part-time pursuit, At the Grave of the Unknown Fisherman takes us through a year with America’s favorite fishing scribe, John Gierach, who dedicates himself to his passion despite his belief that “In the long run, fishing usually amounts to a lifetime of pratfalls punctuated by rare moments of perfection.” Beginning with an early spring expedition to barely thawed Wyoming waters and ending with a New Year’s Eve trip to the Frying Pan River in Colorado, Gierach’s travels find him fishing for trout, carp, and grayling; considering the pros and cons of learning fishing from videos (“video fishing seems a little like movie sex: fun to watch, but a long way from the real thing”); pondering the ethics of sharing secret spots; and debunking the myth of the unflappable outdoorsman (“masters of stillness on the outside, festering s***holes of uncertainty just under the surface”). With an appreciation of the highs, the lows, and all points between, Gierach writes about the fishing life with wisdom, grace, and the well-timed wisecrack. As he says, “The season never does officially end here, but it ends effectively, which means you can fish if you want to and if you can stand it, but you don’t have to.” As any Gierach fan knows, want to and have to are never very far apart.

Brilliant, witty, perceptive essays about fly-fishing, the natural world, and life in general by the acknowledged master of fishing writers. Death, Taxes, and Leaky Waders collects forty of John Gierach’s finest essays on fishing from six of his books. Like all his writing, these essays are seasoned by a keen sense of observation and a deep knowledge and love of fishing lore, leavened by a wonderfully wry sense of humor. Gierach often begins with an observation that soon leads to something below the surface, which he finds and successfully lands. As Gierach says, writing is a lot like fishing. This is the first anthology of John Gierach’s work, a collection that is sure to delight both die-hard fans and new readers alike. To enter Gierach’s world is to experience the daily wonder, challenge, and occasional absurdity of the fishing life—from such rituals as the preparation of camp coffee (for best results, serve in a tin cup) to the random, revelatory surprises, such as the flashing beauty of a grayling leaping out of the water. Whether he’s catching fish or musing on the ones that got away, Gierach is always entertaining and enlightening, writing with his own inimitable blend of grace and style, passion and wit.

Trout Bum is a fresh, contemporary look at fly fishing, and the way of life that grows out ofa passion for it. The people, the places, and the accoutrements that surround the sport make a fishing trip more than a set of tactics and techniques. John Gierach, a serious fisherman with a wry sense of humor, show us just how much more with his fishing stories and a unique look at the fly-fishing lifestyle. Trout Bum is really about why people fish as much as it is about how they fish, and it is ultimately about enduring values and about living in a harmony with our environment. Few books have had the impact on an entire generation that Trout Bum has had on the fly-fishing world. The wit, warmth, and the easy familiarity that John Gierach brings to us in Trout Bum is as fresh and engaging now was when it was first published twenty-five years ago. There's no telling how many anglers have quit their jobs and headed west after reading the first edition of this classic collection of fly-fishing essays.

A lighthearted and lyrical new collection of observations on fly-fishing by the author of Still Life with Brook Trout features whimsical complaints about what the author believes is wrong with the world, both within and outside the fishing community. 50,000 first printing.