Watching the fly fishing going on down at Lewis Creek is a little like box seats at the Bolshoi ballet. You might not even know what those old guys are doing, but dang they seem to do it well.
Long, sinuous casts out from the bank to the Lunker Hole. The Lunker, often dreamed, never caught, but our community would be the poorer without him.
“Fly fishing,” said Marvin Pincus, “is just another name for life.”
“Or love,” said our cowboy, Steve.