the guides. Hank had the boulder field between Upper and Lower Nefarious, plus a couple other minor spots, and he knew Danny had at least two or three places just as good that he kept close to his chest. If Danny was talking about a fish heâd caught and didnât reveal the location, it was understood that Hank wouldnât ask where.
Danny didnât know about Red Gate, for instance, which was one of Walterâs many dozen secret places. When Walter had first been diagnosed with cancer, heâd begun divulging his places to Hank, on the unstated condition that Hank not fish them with anyone else. Heâd learned of Red Gate, of Ridge Back, of Tendrils, three places that could produce fish on impossible days. When Walter got word the cancer was in remission, the divulging stopped. But now, when they spoke, Walter would say he ârose two in Tendrils, a couple others in another spot Iâll show you soon.â When Hank passed away, heâd leave his shelf of fishing logs, and all their pool maps, to Danny.
They respected each otherâs secrets because they understood just how essential these secrets were. To love a river, as to love a romantic partner, a person needed to have the sense that the water had shared something intimate. Those confidences, and the promise of further discovery and insight, were the fuel that kept any romance alive. Walter, Hank, Caroline, Dannyâthey all understood this. It was those âchargersâ who didnât, a generation of misfits whoâd never learned to love.
But Danny had a dark side too; Hank couldnât deny it. There were rumors and then there were the truths Hank had seen himself. Like when Danny was eighteen and had called asking for bail. Hank had arrived to find Dannyâs fists swollen and his toe broken. According to the cops on scene, itâd taken five men to pull Danny from the choke-setter whoâd picked the fight.
Hank didnât know for sure what had happened between Danny and his ex. He didnât want to know.
âHave you been exploring the lower river much?â Danny asked. He was standing on shore behind Hank, off to the side so as not to interfere with Hankâs cast.
The lower river had been gouged by two serious floods several years back, its course drastically altered, the old runs buried and new ones uncovered. âIn December and May and June. Trying to catch the waves of fresh fish. I got the impression they were blowing through that water. Why?â
âJust wondering,â Danny said.
Hank stepped down; his next cast would land on the ledge. He dug deep in the cast and made sure the dry fly landed at the same moment as the lineâthe fly was skating the moment it alit. âI take it youâve been spending time down there.â
âI have,â Danny said. Which said everything he wasnât. âMorell was too.â
A step down, a new cast. Morell.
âHe got into it pretty heavy with Andy there last week.â Andy Trib, Dannyâs good friend, though it was no secret theyâd had their own troubles a few years back; the rumors had been viciousâconcerningDannyâs wife at the time, now his ex. âAndy told me he was sure Morell was the one that cut his anchor rope. I told you about that, right?â
A step down, a new cast. He had. Andy had been guiding some clients through a runâHank didnât realize it had been on the lower riverâ when Andy saw his own boat come drifting by. He had to swim for it.
âMorell didnât tell me his side, knowing Andy and me are tight, so I donât have the clearest picture. But from what I can muster up, Andy cut him off at the ramp one morning, then low-holed him that afternoon. That was the thing about Morell, he kept a grudge.â
A step down, a new cast. Guides guarded their grudges like they did their secrets. âI heard that Morell had undercut Andyâs prices, got his client list,
Danny didnât know about Red Gate, for instance, which was one of Walterâs many dozen secret places. When Walter had first been diagnosed with cancer, heâd begun divulging his places to Hank, on the unstated condition that Hank not fish them with anyone else. Heâd learned of Red Gate, of Ridge Back, of Tendrils, three places that could produce fish on impossible days. When Walter got word the cancer was in remission, the divulging stopped. But now, when they spoke, Walter would say he ârose two in Tendrils, a couple others in another spot Iâll show you soon.â When Hank passed away, heâd leave his shelf of fishing logs, and all their pool maps, to Danny.
They respected each otherâs secrets because they understood just how essential these secrets were. To love a river, as to love a romantic partner, a person needed to have the sense that the water had shared something intimate. Those confidences, and the promise of further discovery and insight, were the fuel that kept any romance alive. Walter, Hank, Caroline, Dannyâthey all understood this. It was those âchargersâ who didnât, a generation of misfits whoâd never learned to love.
But Danny had a dark side too; Hank couldnât deny it. There were rumors and then there were the truths Hank had seen himself. Like when Danny was eighteen and had called asking for bail. Hank had arrived to find Dannyâs fists swollen and his toe broken. According to the cops on scene, itâd taken five men to pull Danny from the choke-setter whoâd picked the fight.
Hank didnât know for sure what had happened between Danny and his ex. He didnât want to know.
âHave you been exploring the lower river much?â Danny asked. He was standing on shore behind Hank, off to the side so as not to interfere with Hankâs cast.
The lower river had been gouged by two serious floods several years back, its course drastically altered, the old runs buried and new ones uncovered. âIn December and May and June. Trying to catch the waves of fresh fish. I got the impression they were blowing through that water. Why?â
âJust wondering,â Danny said.
Hank stepped down; his next cast would land on the ledge. He dug deep in the cast and made sure the dry fly landed at the same moment as the lineâthe fly was skating the moment it alit. âI take it youâve been spending time down there.â
âI have,â Danny said. Which said everything he wasnât. âMorell was too.â
A step down, a new cast. Morell.
âHe got into it pretty heavy with Andy there last week.â Andy Trib, Dannyâs good friend, though it was no secret theyâd had their own troubles a few years back; the rumors had been viciousâconcerningDannyâs wife at the time, now his ex. âAndy told me he was sure Morell was the one that cut his anchor rope. I told you about that, right?â
A step down, a new cast. He had. Andy had been guiding some clients through a runâHank didnât realize it had been on the lower riverâ when Andy saw his own boat come drifting by. He had to swim for it.
âMorell didnât tell me his side, knowing Andy and me are tight, so I donât have the clearest picture. But from what I can muster up, Andy cut him off at the ramp one morning, then low-holed him that afternoon. That was the thing about Morell, he kept a grudge.â
A step down, a new cast. Guides guarded their grudges like they did their secrets. âI heard that Morell had undercut Andyâs prices, got his client list,
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