What Michael Copperman’s Fishing Lessons Reveal About Life Will Surprise You
“Look here!” Uncle Bill called, and so my brother and I took in our lines and turned back to look. Uncle Bill pointed the lit end of his cigarette into the mist and, out of it, in a huff of gears and blinking lights, a tall tanker-truck with a National Forest Service logo backed down the boat ramp to the edge of the water. Uncle Bill went to the window and chatted someone up, then let out a whoop of excitement. And then, as the tank tilted up and a great pipe extended downward, the truck released its cargo: a thousand stock trout, uniformly twelve inches, pouring quicksilver into the pool. An undeniable bounty of riches.
