Fishing
Cumberland Valley, Pennsylvania, where Whistlestop Bookshop is situated, is generously watered and drained by creeks renowned for their fishing. Conodoguinet Creek, which flows about 100 miles to the Susquehanna River and is nearest to Carlisle, is actually better known for the fishing in its two tributaries, Big Spring Creek out of the Newville area (only 5 miles) and Letort Spring Run, which arises south of Carlisle and flows north 9 miles to the Conodoguinet. The Yellow Breeches Creek, which flows along South Mountain for 56 miles to the Susquehanna, is internationally famous for its trout fishing.
Naturally, a trout-fishing and especially a fly-fishing culture has developed, sometimes thought to be mostly local, sometimes acknowledged to be of world interest — the world that loves the quiet and focus and solitary rewards of fly-fishing. Rarely, the local zen masters of fishing wrote books. Charlie Fox was once a customer of Whistlestop, and Joe Humphreys is still in print and in fact the subject of a documentary we carry. Fishing does inspire fine writing, after all — the names of Izaak Walton, Norman MacLean, Thomas McGuane, Patrick McManus, John Gierach suggest the range of approaches in writing about “standing in a river waving a stick,” to use Gierach’s famous descripton.
Dedicated to the memory of a great fisherman and an even better brother, Gordon Wood (1956-2020).
Dumb Luck and the Kindness of Strangers
Dumb Luck and the Kindness of Strangers
Witty, shrewd, and, as always, a joy to read, John Gierach, "America's best fishing writer" (Houston Chronicle) and favorite streamside philosopher, extols the frequent joys and occasional tribulations of the fly-fishing life.
"After five decades, twenty books, and countless columns, [John Gierach] is still a master" ( Forbes). Now, in his latest fresh and original collection, Gierach shows us why fly-fishing is the perfect antidote to everything that is wrong with the world.
"Gierach's deceptively laconic prose masks an accomplished storyteller...His alert and slightly off-kilter observations place him in the general neighborhood of Mark Twain and James Thurber" ( Publishers Weekly). In Dumb Luck and the Kindness of Strangers, Gierach looks back to the long-ago day when he bought his first resident fishing license in Colorado, where the fishing season never ends, and just knew he was in the right place. And he succinctly sums up part of the appeal of his sport when he writes that it is "an acquired taste that reintroduces the chaos of uncertainty back into our well-regulated lives."
Lifelong fisherman though he is, Gierach can write with self-deprecating humor about his own fishing misadventures, confessing that despite all his experience, he is still capable of blowing a strike by a fish "in the usual amateur way." The "voice of the common angler" ( The Wall Street Journal), he offers witty, trenchant observations not just about fly-fishing itself but also about how one's love of fly-fishing shapes the world that we choose to make for ourselves.