Au Sable Apocalypse

In the minds of many anglers (most famously Norman Maclean), there is considerable overlap between religion and fly fishing. From the union of these two spheres comes a number of good things: acts of stewardship, for instance, or stories that others find moving and inspiring. Other results can be just plain odd. This is a case of the latter.

On a May evening a few years ago, after a day of fishing, I was walking back to my truck at a popular access along the Au Sable river to eat my supper. While still some distance from the truck, I heard loud and contentious voices. As I got closer, I made out that two men, sitting against the far side of a car parked next to me, were debating the fate of unsaved souls. One proclaimed resolutely that they suffered eternally in the flames of Hell. His antagonist contended that God simply annihilated them into nonexistence. The two went back and forth for some time, each marshalling intricate, high-decibel proofs for his position, and scornfully rebutting those of his opponent. This was a long way from the "One with Nature" sort of spirituality that fishermen are often disposed to while on the water. Munching my sandwich, I wondered idly if the apostles of Jesus carried on such rows while tossing nets on the Sea of Galilee.

The argument lost steam around the time I finished eating, and the former antagonists fell into quiet conversation about fishing and the fine weather. After I rigged to return to the river, I decided to have a chat with these riverbank mystagogues, mainly for the purpose of finding whether they'd been catching anything. I had enjoyed only fair luck that day. Walking around to the other side of their car, I found two cheerful looking men in their late twenties. They were quite friendly when we got to talking, and, to my relief, made no attempt to proselytize. Remnants of their own brown-bag supper were scattered on the ground, along with at least ten empty beer cans. It seemed one had caught many chunky trout, while the other had gotten skunked. Did this mean that one of them really was in touch with the order of things and attuned to the will of the Almighty? This was an intriguing and slightly scary notion, but in the end I couldn't determine which belief was held by the man anointed with trout. I couldn't match the voices staking out positions in the debate with those gently speaking to me now, and so went back to the river as agnostic as I'd come from it.

Toward sunset I enjoyed some fine fishing during a hatch of black caddis, which was a kind of redemption in itself.

Tags: Fishing; Spirituality