Word: forkfuls
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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Only a few days before, the May flies had been sighted on the river. Their appearance was a cause for some jubilation in Last Chance, Idaho, a village in the resort area of Island Park (pop. 154) that is perched along the banks of Henry's Fork of the Snake River, or the North Fork as it is known locally. Every summer, the green drake-large and preposterously dandified, resembling, with its translucent upright wings, a miniature clipper ship-makes its appearance on the Idaho stream in an event that is enshrined in fly-fishing mythology...
...calendar. Each commemorates a day immutable as spring: the rise of larvae, or nymphs, from the bottom of certain streams and their emergence as May flies on the surface. But there is no date more important than the hatch of the fabled green drake on Henry's Fork. When the first of the insects is sighted on the Snake River, Henry's Fork and the whole town of Last Chance, as well as all the motels, gas stations, restaurants and tackleshops in between, come alive with their own hatch: trout fishermen...
...perhaps to the dining room of the Chalet Restaurant, and there, seated against the wall in a booth upholstered in red vinyl, they might find Bing Lempke. And whether they are plumbers from Cleveland or industrialists from Los Angeles, they may ask Lempke, who has fished Henry's Fork for a half-century, a litany of questions that run like this...
Tiny Thistle, Utah, a historic railroading town 60 miles south of Salt Lake City, was once considered an idyllic mountain retreat. No longer. Unglued by record spring rains, a 125-ft. wall of muddy earth swept into nearby Spanish Fork Canyon two weeks ago, backing up the small Spanish Fork River for two miles and creating a natural lake, 50 to 80 ft. deep, that has swallowed up the hapless hamlet. Residents of the town's 22 homes fled, and no lives were lost. But despite attempts to drain the new lake, the water has continued to rise...
...weeks later, Watson won his first professional golf tournament, the Western Open, and publicly declared that he intended to be the greatest golfer in the world. It was at a small awards dinner, and the Kansas City Star's veteran sports editor, Joe McGuff, remembers dropping his fork. "In a game almost based on fear of failure," says McGuff, "he never thought how far he had given himself to fall. He was absolutely sure." Watson laughs at that now. "My father got mad at me that night. Even if you think it,' he said, do you have...