Our family has an old cabin on a small river that doesn’t have many fish in it. It’s in Michigan. The next cabin downstream, and the one after that, belong to extended cousins, so it’s become somewhat of a ritual to meet for happy hour and share stories about things like the fish you caught or the plans you had for the blanket drake hatch you just know will happen after dinner.
I distinctly remember one such cocktail hour around 1991 (I was newly married and just breaking into this family scene) when Uncle Fred brought a dog-eared copy of a little book titled Sex, Death, and Fly Fishing over for my father-in-law (also named Fred) to check out.
“This guy… Gierach… is pretty funny,” he said. “You can tell he knows and cares an awful lot about fly fishing, but he doesn’t take himself or anything else too seriously.”
Humility was a hallmark of Gierach’s writing, and that certainly resonated not only among my family, but also millions of anglers throughout the world. I ended up borrowing that book and became an instant fan.
Gierach and TROUT
Flash forward 25-some years. Through a series of small miracles, I had become the editor of TROUT magazine. I had also gotten to know Gierach through magazine and book circles over the years. And now TROUT magazine was the proud home of the “Convergence” columns that John wrote, Bob White illustrated and eventually got turned into books like All the Time in the World.
John and I would meet for lunch a couple of times a year where we’d threaten to go fishing with each other. I frequently lied and told him about the abundance of trout in the home river in Michigan and asked him to visit. Being a native Midwesterner himself and always eager for the angle, John actually took me up on that offer just a few years ago. Photographer Mike Dvorak joined in, as did a couple of other friends.
So, we invited Uncle Fred to happy hour on the first afternoon of that visit, and on the same porch where he had passed around that copy of Sex, Death, and Fly Fishing, I got to introduce him to John Gierach in person. It made for a pretty cool “closing of the circle” moment.
The one and only, skunked
But alas, despite our best efforts over the next few days, and despite weather conditions that made us just sure the gray drakes would fall like rain from the sky at any moment, the joke turned on me.
Somehow, I managed to get John Gierach skunked.
Sure, he caught a few salmon smolt and baby rainbows, and even a small brown trout or two, but we don’t count those. He never tied into a big daddy, drake-munching brown trout I would have bet the farm he would encounter. I was mortified.
More than just catching fish
Still, John managed to write a wonderful piece that we ran in the Spring 2023 issue of TROUT that rightfully focused on the many other aspects of fly fishing—like family and sacred places—that ultimately matter more than pulling on fish.
Artist Bob White made a beautiful painting from a photo I sent of my favorite bend in my home river. He called it “Spring Peepers” and it shows a silhouette of John, head tilted, looking downstream.
I bought that painting from Bob and have it hung on my wall at home in Colorado. It brings me great joy and fond memories of very talented, gracious and kind man I had the honor of working with in John, and still do work with in Bob.
Admittedly, sometimes when I look at the image, I can’t help but wonder if John is admiring the beautiful sunset, or simply wondering, “Why did I ever believe Deeter’s fishing stories?”
I’m fine with either.