Icebergs, Tuckamores, & Salmo Salar by Norm Zeigler

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The little purple fly floated high as it bounced down into the sluice. I followed it down with the rod tip at the current speed to preclude any slack. As the fly drifted into the deepest, narrowest part of the channel it disappeared and I felt a hard jolt. In a split second the salmon shot away upriver, tearing off seventy feet of line.

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“That’s a big fish, Norm,” Junior said. The fish paused a second, then raced back toward me, forcing me to crank the reel handle as fast as I could while holding the rod up and pulling back and turning my body at the same time. I felt momentary slack as it shot downstream past me and then the line came taut again. Then the fish leapt like a dolphin, turned sideways in the air and landed with its slab side on the water’s surface in a thunderous splash 20 feet in front of us. “Oh my God, you’ve got a whale,” Junior shouted.


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