Word: trout
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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When he's ready to hit the word processor, McGuane heads out to his office, a freestanding shed with a porch overlooking the banks of the Boulder River. By the door is a fishing rod he keeps just in case the trout start to jump. Fishing, McGuane explains, is just another way for him to stay in touch with the "spirit and poetry of the natural world." Maintaining a primal connection to the environment is essential to McGuane, for both his peace of mind and his work. "I feel strongly that writers need to be some place," he says...
...examination of the carcasses has turned up no unusual concentrations of toxic substances in the pelicans. One wild theory is that fishermen may have poisoned the birds so that fewer of the lake's trout will be eaten by them. Wildlife biologists scoff at such speculation, and city water officials insist that there is nothing in the water to harm humans. But until the Great White Pelican Mystery is solved, worry and rumor, unlike the birds, seem certain to thrive...
...ships, the same number that worked the area in the 1987-88 season. This season the fleet had grown to at least 60 boats. The restrictions do not apply to the approximately 450 boats that ply the North Pacific, where they allegedly net large numbers of sea trout and salmon that might otherwise be caught by U.S., Canadian and Soviet fishermen...
James Baker and Dick Cheney loaded their tents, sleeping bags and fly rods onto packhorses last week and trekked into the Rockies for five days of trout fishing. Before they left Washington, they made sure the word was out among their colleagues: a Secretary of State and a Secretary of Defense who can go camping together in the high country of Wyoming can deliberate -- and even disagree -- along the banks of the Potomac without tearing an Administration apart...
...fisherman is lucky, the passion becomes manageable, second nature, like tying knots in the dark or reading a deep green pool by an undercut bank and knowing where the trout are holding and which fly to use. But having gone through the novitiate, fly-fishermen are never the same again. They scan rivers and lakes, seeing water but imagining the life underneath. They concentrate for hours, zenlike, watching thunderheads build and billow above, gazing at streams running over moss-covered rocks, searching for the sight of a trout, that near perfect fish, as it fins and darts, drifts and feeds...