The surface of the earth...
is 30 percent land...
and 70 percent water.
A newborn baby is composed of 70 percent water...
and 30 percent everything else.
I guess this means...
that life and water are inseparable.
A human child at birth undergoes a ritual...
almost identical to that inflicted upon a trout at death.
The fish is whacked on the head...
thus putting it out of its misery.
The infant is whacked on the behind...
thus initiating it into its misery.
Upon my birth, my father made sure that I was given...
the proud, manly name of Augustine.
And since I was born into the first family of angling...
it should come as no surprise...
that I was a fishing prodigy.
I caught my first steelhead with my mom...
on a worm when I was four.
I didn't feel any hostility towards land dwellers.
I just had water on the brain.
The only thing I gave much thought to...
was bait versus fly.
On my tenth birthday...
I caught my 180th steelhead with my dad...
on a fly.
By the time high school rolled around...
I was great at attracting steelhead.
Not so great with the cheerleaders.
And when most kids were making college plans...
I didn't bother.
Gross.
Figured the only institution...
my grades would get me in...
was the Oregon State Pen.
But on water?
I understand the way fish think.
My parents' union...
is one of stubborn, extremely loyal...
hot-tempered, polar opposites.
Ma is a bait fisher...
an expert plunker of worms.
My father is a writer secondarily...
and a famous fly fisherman primarily.
My brother Bill Bob is different...
than the rest of us.
He was born with a prodigious ability...
to ignore all things aquatic...
which to a massive extent implies his entire family.
He hates water. Won't drink it.
He wears galoshes and a hat...
almost every day...
just to stay clear of the stuff.
Not that he doesn't need a little protection...
from other hazards now and then.
Good thing Ma has native intelligence.
And she always seems to be
in the right place at the right time.
My father's battle...
with a giant steelhead he named Nijinsky...
was the stuff of legends.
And the story of that fish brought him fame, fortune...
and a healthy ego.
Raised by English aristocrats...
he inherited their speech and manners.
When he autographs a book, he writes his entire name...
Henning Hale Orviston.
To approach every task--
I call him H2O.
He's the one person in the world...
who calls me by the name on my birth certificate.
Augustine...
best get another box from the car.
I just brought in three boxes.
Tell you what, Augustine.
Until you find someone else to employ you...
you might want to do what I request.
Yes, sir!
Do you have children?
Oh, yeah.
Before I take a few questions...
let me conclude by saying...
I like to think of this legislation...
as the Worship the Waters Act.
Yes, little lady.
Hi . Um, curious.
How can building all those new dams be an act of worship?
I mean, even if the wild salmon are lucky enough to survive...
the turbines on their pilgrimage up the river...
their smolt will be swallowed, of course...
by the predators on their way back to the ocean.
Maybe we should call it the Slaughter the Salmon Act instead.
There may be some collateral damage to the salmon...
but this will create jobs and cut taxes, and besides...
we are making great strides with aquaculture these days.
You'd be amazed what we're doing...
with farmed salmon.
There's no smoking here.
You need to put that out.
Of course. The environment.
Come on.
Certainly.
Let's go. Come one.
There's no evidence...
that consuming farmed salmon poses any threat.
Yeah, you and I can debate that.
But we can both agree that fish have better places to live...
than pools of their own shit!
Where are my books, Augustine?
My name is Gus!
♫ And none may come for days ♫
Sorry.
My parents argued about a lot of things.
But it was never a question of who would have the last word...
merely who would have the next one.
How could I tell them I was thinking about leaving home...
when I couldn't even get a word in edgewise.
So, Hen...
have you ever been to Royal Lake?
If I have...
the brain cells recollecting it...
have been destroyed by this merciful beverage.
So go ahead, Gusser.
Tell him about that record bass...
you and Bill Bob pulled out of there that time.
Ma.
Augustine, you call yourself a fisherman?
I call myself Gus.
Well, Gus...
why were you fishing for bass?
Dutch Hines says that--
Dutch Hines is an idiot. What does he know? Bass.
Bass!
It's been said that a man with a Bible...
is more dangerous than a man with a gun.
lzaak Walton's The Compleat Angler...
was my father's Bible.
"The king of fish, the trout."
And since the time I was a toddler...
I heard it quoted and misquoted daily.
"via the fly rod, the most aesthetically perfect experience...
available to mortal--" Don't break my book.
Don't worry about your stupid book. Here.
"Come. Let's kill them all.
"Then let's go find an honest alehouse...
"where we may drink a cup of barley wine...
and rejoice together. "
Completely mistaken.
I swear, Hen.
You've taken his facetious humor...
and turned it into a mortal condemnation.
You bribed your teacher for your diploma.
Shows a lack of humor. The trout--
lke Walton wrote all that about fly fishing...
just so he could make some extra pocket money.
Stop! Just shut up! Stop.
What would you think of me if I didn't fly fish?
You know what you are? You're a fishing fascist.
You're a diarrhea-mouthed bigot who's blind to anyone...
who doesn't drool over the sound of your stupid, suave talk.
The only person you love is yourself...
because you've got your head so far up your own ass--
All right now, Gus Orviston...
that's no way to talk to your father.
What in hell's gotten into you?
You're a greedy, gloating shrew...
and you don't know shit about fishing or living.
Neither one of you do because you're just both...
dug so deep in your ruts...
that you've got mud in your ears.
I gotta get out of here.
See this?
No no no, not Nijinsky.
This is the source of all your bullshit.
Nijinsky was an honored part of our family...
since before I was even born.
And even though his body...
was stuck over the living room mantle...
his spirit haunted every corner of my life.
What can you say after you've spontaneously cremated...
your parent's prized fish in the fireplace?
The only thing that came to my mind
was "Good-bye."
For me, happiness would never be found...
anywhere but on the banks of a river anyway.
So I took the few possessions I owned--
Bye, Gus.
and turned to the river.
And to a new life devoid of every obstacle between me...
and my beloved art of angling.
♫ I will ask it plain ♫
♫ 'Cause I just have one way to speak ♫
♫ Help to make me strong ♫
♫ Because this world has made me weak ♫
♫ I remember when I started out ♫
♫ There wasn't anything ♫
♫ Any man or any country ♫
♫ Any court or any king ♫
♫ That ever kept me ♫
♫ From my calling ♫
♫ Oh ♫
♫ No wall so tall ♫
♫ I could not scale ♫
♫ But now I feel ♫
♫ Like I am falling ♫
♫ Oh ♫
♫ Lord, don't let me fail ♫
♫ Let me run like I'm a river ♫
♫ Let me travel like a trail ♫
♫ Lord don't let it fail ♫
♫ Let me run like I'm a river ♫
♫ Let me travel like a train ♫
♫ Let me run like I'm a river ♫
♫ Let me travel like a train ♫
♫ Let me run like I'm a river ♫
♫ Let me travel ♫
♫♫ Travel like a train ♫♫
There's just nothing like the feel...
of a trout dancing through the river...
making the pole pulse like a heart in your hands.
It does to your hands...
what dreams of eternity do to your heart.
And yet, I killed the trout.
It's strange to kill your dance partner...
but that's what I did.
I did it because the world is strange.
Because the world does not allow you to make up your own rules...
based on how you would wish things to be.
Because this is a world where no matter who you are...
your happiness, your survival...
is based on sacrifice.
Sweet, bleeding sacrifice.
Nice work, son.
Very nice.
How many you got?
About a hundred.
I'll take 'em all.
Great!
Hey! Stop!
Hey.
Howdy there.
Howdy.
Hi . My name's Kernie.
And, uh, this is Bernie...
and Marlene and Charlene and Darlene...
and this one right here is Ernie...
except we call him Hemingway for short.
I'm Gus.
Oh, yeah . Yeah, yeah, we know.
Yeah, you live right up there, upstream
by the reef forest.
Hey, uh...
maybe, do you guys...
want some fish, smoked fish--
Yeah ! Yeah!
No, no, no. Don't grab, don't grab.
Well, while you guys pick at that, I'm gonna...
move on down the road.
Oh, wait. No, no, no.
We got some stuff for you. Just wait right here.
Hey, you like fishing?
If you ever want a lesson or anything, you know...
you can just come by my cabin.
Here you go.
Oh, whoa.
These are brand-new, so they're really good.
Wow, thank you. Okay. Wow.
Hello.
Wow. This is really-- I don't-- I can't--
Oh, no, no, no. It's good, it's good.
It's great.
You're fine.
Hi, I'm Gus.
Yeah, I know.
Thank you.
Bye.
Thank you. Nice meeting you.
Nice job, Rodney.
Alfred I promise...
I'll eat something else tomorrow.
Abe, are you out there?
Abe! Are you all right?
Hey, have you seen a lone fisherman?
Sorry. I haven't seen anyone.
Abe!
Abe, where are you?
Abe, come on!
Abe!
Oh!
There's one thing you can say about nature.
If you make one lousy rule to describe it...
it'll contradict you even if it has to bust its ass to do so.
And so what? If anybody ever discovered the real laws of nature...
nature would rear back and strike him dead...
before he could pass on the news.
Jesus Christ.
No. I think his name is Abe.
Maybe Abe knew.
Maybe he had just figured the whole world out...
and was about to tell me as I floated past.
But God caught wind of it and stuck out His invisible foot...
tripped and drowned him.
If the fool only knew how to swim.
Easy, friend.
Let's see if we can thaw you out.
I am Titus.
Titus I rving Gerrard. At your service.
Nice to meet you . I...
am simply Gus.
Simply Gus? I don't think so.
Anyone who knows the secrets...
to the catches you made today...
is not simply anything.
There's no secrets to those catches.
The trout I caught on a wet fly.
The corpse I caught on a soggy dry.
Yes, well...
you've done old Abe's family some service...
by collecting his remains.
And since we're all bodily destined for corpsehood...
and spiritually possessed of immortal souls...
I see no reason to let the proximity of corpses ruin our day.
If you think we're all possessed by immortal souls...
I'd sure like to see them.
Maybe you're looking in the wrong places.
For clear vision.
Thanks.
M m-hm.
And uh, thanks for the ride.
A fisherman is dead.
Everyone I know will one day be dead.
What can I do about it?
Death is the most natural thing there is...
and we all have a knack for it. The only question is...
when we'll master it. Doesn't matter what we do...
or what we don't do.
This is no passing thought.
It's a gnawing emptiness more real than the cold.
This is bullshit.
Ma tossed the baby rabbit skeleton...
I had hanging in my closet.
ls that tonight's dreefee?
Yep.
I had to get a new one.
Whatever helps you sleep, Bill Bob.
Gussy?
Bill Bob?
I thought it might make you feel better...
to explain that you've got a garden angel.
You mean guardian angel?
Nah . See, you think you're alone.
But you're not. You've got a garden angel...
that's your twin.
It's called a guardian angel.
No. I'm talking about a garden angel.
It's like your shadow.
Dreefee.
Garden angel.
Gussy, garden angels come from the ground...
like carrots.
When they first come out of the ground...
into the garden world, they're very old...
or hurt, or sick.
And the longer the angels live there...
the younger and smaller they grow
and happier and friendlier they get.
When they get little little...
they disappear out of the garden world and into our world...
and we trade places.
We what?
We trade places with our twin.
We go there and our twin comes here.
We journey up and up through a long black tunnel...
till we reach the garden angel grounds.
Sprout up like carrots.
Trade back and forth.
Does knowing this make you feel a little less lonely, Gussy?
Yeah, Bill Bob.
Thanks.
Oh, sorry.
Uh, I'm, uh--
Don't get scared.
I'm just-- I'm just a marmless misher--
I just came here to go swimming.
Oops.
I gotta go.
You know, um--
Do not-- Uh.
Bye.
Hey!
You all right up there?
Yeah.
Well, are you hurt?
I-- No-- No!
Can you get down?
No.
Why not?
Just 'cause.
All right, mummy mouth.
If that's all you got for me, good luck.
No, no, no. Don't go.
Why not?
"No life, good scholar...
"no life so happy and so pleasant...
"as the life of a well-governed angler.
"So we may say that God never did make...
"a more calm, quiet...
innocent recreation than angling ."
I don't suppose he did.
And now, I think it's time...
for you to repair to your angle rod...
which should not be left in the water to fish for itself.
Oh, yeah, is that what we've been doing, huh?
Funny, 'cause I thought...
I was trying to catch me a steelhead.
And you, what are you doing here?
I am a fisherman, but I only came here to swim.
If you're a fisherman, where's your gear?
My gear is at home, on the Tamanawis.
"But let us say grace and fall to breakfast.
What say you, scholar?"
You can say grace all you want.
Just don't fall to breakfast, please.
Why not?
Because you're gonna break your neck...
before I figure out that lingo of yours.
It's Zizak Waltley. I mean Zisac Walters--
lzaak Walton?
Yes!
And what is your name?
Crawl me Gust.
Wh-Wh-Wh-What's your name?
Eddy.
Just Eddy. Nice to meet you.
Eddy, like the swirvles in the river wattle.
I wish.
No.
Eddy like my dad, Edwin.
You got-- You got-- You got a bite.
Hm?
Where'd you go?
Aiee!
Sacajawea Argeiphontes! I am wounded.
Titus?
The Sufi Attar has written...
"One tiny fly which entered the ear of Nimrod...
troubled the brain of that idiot for centuries."
Please, Gus. Spare me Nimrod's fate.
It's hopeless.
I'll never catch one of those beautiful trout.
Whoops. You just used one of the two words...
that should be deleted from every true fisherman's vocabulary.
Hopeless?
No. Always and never.
How's it feel?
Eerie, thanks.
Don't mention it.
Consider it de-mentioned.
What's that?
It's a long, dull story.
If I'm not mistaken, I've seen that look before.
ls there a woman in this?
Twice she slipped away now.
She's uncatchable.
Uncatchable as in never?
She's not a fish, Titus.
Maybe not, but it certainly sounds to me...
like you're telling the story of the one that got away.
Live the rest of my life without ever seeing...
the beautiful fisher girl again?
That's-- that's a pretty miserable prospect.
Well--
I guess there's nothing left to do...
but just drink till I die.
I'll admit there is no cure for a soul in your condition...
but there are three consolations.
Okay.
One is hope. You may find her again.
Yeah, fat chance.
Gus, if she's as beautiful as you say she is--
She's twice as beautiful as I say she is.
She knows your name. She knows the river.
She may find you.
Yeah . We may grow wings.
We might.
Okay. What are these other two consolations?
Well, you've already put down a healthy dose of the second.
The third, however, requires more aptitude.
What kind of aptitudes?
Philosophical aptitude.
Titus, I know how to philosophize...
as well as you know how to fly cast.
I think you should get plowed tonight.
And tomorrow, we begin philosophizing.
I just told you...
I don't know how to philosophize.
Well, and I don't know how to fish.
Okay. So?
So we teach each other.
What have I got to lose?
Your unhappiness.
Yeah, right.
What is that?
ls that an imitation of a grasshopper?
This is an abstract representation...
of a fat tourist on a golf course.
It's called Bermuda shorts.
Here, fishy.
I like it. What say we migrate to a watering hole...
a little closer to civilization?
To Portland?
Sure.
The way that goes ahead often looks as if it went back.
I just want to go ahead and find Eddy.
Come on.
Titus?
Titus!
Yes?
Ah.
This your dog?
Yes.
Well, he's kind of staring at me.
So?
Does he bite? Can I move? Or--
Why won't he just go away?
He-- He doesn't bite without cause.
But, uh, you should move.
You're in Descartes chair.
Easy there, buddy.
I'm just gonna move over to the couch.
And then Descartes' silly chair...
will be all fine.
Uh, Titus?
The dog's in Descartes' chair now.
And he's rocking. Should I tell him to get down?
No, you shouldn't. The dog is Descartes.
Oh.
Well.
This is amazing.
How did you teach him to rock a chair like that?
Don't make a stew about it, Gus.
You'll only confuse him.
Descartes' immediate goal is humanity...
as surely as ours is divinity.
What?
Sorry. I guess...
I'm just from the orthodox school, you know?
Fido, Rover, fetch, roll over.
Well, Gus...
are you ready to fish?
Fish for what?
For happiness.
And where do you fish for that?
You believe that stuff?
I'm not sane, Gus.
I believe in the rivers of living water.
I believe our souls swim in that water.
I believe that Jesus, Buddha, Krishna, Mohamed
are the savor in that water.
Wish I believed that.
And why don't you?
Bait or fly.
Fried or scrambled.
Jesus or Mohamed.
I mean, does it really make any difference?
Does it really matter?
Where are all these sages and buddhas holing up...
now when we really need 'em?
Well, would you know one if you met one?
Come on, Titus.
Even lzaak Walton talks about the goodness...
of the God of nature.
I've never seen Him, and I've fished in ten states.
Whoever, whatever, wherever He is or isn't...
if He really wants me to notice Him...
maybe He should stop being so scarce.
All right. Why can't a duffer like me catch a fish?
lsn't the answer obvious?
lsn't it because at my present level of skill...
the fish would have to be so damn dumb...
and utterly unelusive as to be not worth catching?
And how much more elusive...
should a thing as wondrous as a soul be?
Fishermen should be the easiest of men to convince...
to search for their souls, because fishing is nothing but...
the pursuit of the elusive.
How can you be so patient in searching for fish...
and so hasty to write off your soul...
because you can't see it?
Hi.
Yeah . Um...
I was looking for a girl named Eddy...
who works for you.
She-- She worked at your casting pool...
at that angling fair a couple of months ago?
She got a new job?
Okay. Well, could you maybe tell me...
you know, where she's working now?
No, because of privacy issues. Right.
Well, is there a supervisor that I could talk to or something?
You must be the only living thing left in here.
I'm thinking about an ant. That sound good?
Do you think the soul strikes harder early in the morning...
and late in the evening...
kind of like fish?
Could be.
Okay. So how do you suppose...
I ought to fish for mine?
With a soul pole, I suppose.
Where do I get one?
Right here's good.
This where you got yours?
I got mine here.
You got yours in there.
I still can't figure out where this soul pole is.
Shall I show you?
Can you?
I can by analogy.
But you'll have to answer a few questions first.
Fire away.
All right.
Where is Rodney, your trusty fishing rod...
right now?
At this moment...
he is hanging on my cabin wall.
Who made Rodney...
from an indistinguishable blank...
into the singing rod he is today?
I did.
Yes. And who controls his destiny?
Decides when he'll hang on the wall...
or ride in the back of the pickup truck...
or cast for trout?
And who will, one day, decide he's worn out...
and consign him to a funeral pyre?
I will.
Excellent.
Can you get me a couple of cues?
Yeah . Two of them.
Now, who do you suppose...
created you...
into the living fisherman you are today?
I wish I knew.
Excellent!
And who controls your destiny?
Wish I knew that, too.
Very good . And who will, one day...
consign your body to a wormy grave?
I wish I knew that, too.
Perfect!
Why is that perfect?
All I'm saying is, "Oh, I wish I knew."
Come on . Don't you want me to say...
"God does it," or, "My soul does it"--
Gus, I'm a philosopher. I'm not an evangelist.
It's the "I wish I knew" that is crucial.
I mean, to say, "God did it," and then just leave it at that?
That's to abandon the search before it's even begun.
Believe me, no one's ever discovered any truth...
by barfing up Sunday school answers to questions.
Now, you and I agreed, did we not...
that Rodney is oblivious...
to everything save some weight and varnish.
We did.
Therefore, does it follow...
that he is just as oblivious...
to Gus?
Even though Gus is his maker?
Even though Gus controls his destiny?
Even though Gus is--
Let's go ahead and call it. Gus is his essence.
Yes, it follows.
Then therefore, is it possible...
that maybe you and I...
are just as oblivious...
to the presence of a Creator?
Just as oblivious to a controller of destiny?
Just as oblivious to our essence?
An essence that wields you and I even more deftly...
than you wield Rodney.
Sure, it's possible.
Well, there you have it.
Rodney is to Gus...
as Gus is to his essence.
You name the essence soul and you, sir...
have your soul pole.
Me?
So, no matter how hopelessly stupid I am...
in comparison to my essence or my soul...
I still have a profound purpose.
I like that, Titus.
I like that.
Thank you.
I swiped it from Plotinus.
♫ Wait till I wake up ♫
♫ Wish something could interrupt ♫
♫ The dream for much too Iong I've Iingered in ♫
Hold on!
Hang onto it. Easy.
Easy. Don't force it, don't force it.
Easy. Easy.
That's a real nice jack salmon, son.
It's not a jack. It's a sea-run cutthroat.
Oh.
What are you doing?
I'm getting skunked, God damn it.
I've been fishing all day...
and I haven't even gotten a bounce.
I'm plum jinxed.
Or plum dumb.
What's that?
Uh, done.
I got here early in the morning...
nary a strike.
You come here, in ten seconds...
zabba dabba doo.
You land a nice jack.
So, you...
know any good tales about this grand sport of ours?
Yeah.
So, what do you know?
If you want to catch a blueback...
you're gonna need some lighter gear.
You have any with you?
I guess, uh...
I guess we can both use my rod.
Ah, now you're talking.
Oh ! God dammit!
I am sorry. I am sorry.
It's okay, it's fine. It's fine.
Just-- How about you just stay up here...
and hold on to that. I'm gonna, you know, make us something up.
Okay.
Get yourself--
Get yourself a little nightcrawler there.
Some clay. Right there.
Just roll it up like that...
and smooth it out.
What's that invention called?
A Hostess Twinkie.
And get ready.
I got one! I got it. I got it.
Yeah . Don't lose it.
I got it! I got it.
Come on.
You got him.
Look at that.
Nice.
Oh . Oh.
What do you say, 18 inches?
Oh, you can tell people that's 24.
Love it.
Hey, I gotta rush back to town...
and write this up for tomorrow's paper.
For tomorrow's what?
Post Telegram.
Dutch Hines.
The F-F-Fishing Dutchman.
You're Dutch Hines.
Yeah . What's your name?
I'm just Gus.
But that's really just a nickname.
So I wouldn't-- I would-- I wouldn't use that.
You know, I'd like to interview you, Gus.
Haven't had a better day's f-f-fishing...
since I lost nine steelhead one morning on the Kilchis...
two winters ago. I was fishing with Fuzz Gramsay.
Yeah, I-- I remember that trip. You wrote about it 12 times.
Yeah ! So, you wanna do an interview?
Um, c-c--
Can I have one second?
Sure.
Dutch Hines wants to interview me.
That idiot's got three-quarter of a million readers.
He can write about me for weeks and not be distracted.
Nothing's gonna distract him for months...
'cause he's not gonna catch a fish for months.
He made Fuzz Gramsay rich by endorsing him.
He endorses me...
and I'll have a thousand polers by the end of the month.
Well, what do you say? You want to do an interview?
Listen to this, Caroline.
"By a stroke of dumb luck, this old dog learned a bag full of tricks...
"from a young buck he bumped into...
"who just might be...
"the finest fisherman this great Northwest of ours...
has seen in many a decade."
"His friends call him Gus."
"But he told us this is just a nickname."
Okay. My real name is Antoine Chapeau.
I'm originally from Palm Springs, California...
where I used to manage a--
a beauty salon.
And I would spend my whole day...
just looking at women's hair.
But you know what, Dutch?
I thought I was going crazy...
because I'd be looking at a woman's hair...
and I'd be imagining five-pound tippets.
Or algae or something. Three-pound leaders. It doesn't matter.
Everything reminded me of--of the river.
So finally I said, you know what?
Antoine, this can't be healthy.
So I pulled up the stakes. I moved to Oregon...
and I just started fishing.
All day every day, fishing.
"And fish he does, with a passion and skill...
"he claimed he acquired using a fly rod...
"out in the deserts around Palm Springs.
"This dry fishing, as he calls it, is what taught him...
"both the incredible patience and the shamanistic approach...
to the sport that characterizes him today."
Listen, I gotta get back to the paper. Uh...
what do you say we meet again next week...
and you tell me some more?
Okay. But only if you put a message in the paper for me.
"Will the girl who ran from the guy...
"who recited lzaak Walton in the tree...
"please contact Gus on the other river he named.
"He has your pole and your fish...
"and wants to return them.
"He's totally harmless but urges you...
"to bring a loaded gun if scared.
As long as you come. Thank you ."
Gus!
We want to go fishing.
It's time for another lesson.
Hey, guys. Can we do it another time?
I just-- I just don't really feel like it.
Fishing. Fishing. Fishing.
Let's go fishing.
Let's go.
Here we go.
Very nice.
Hey, hey.
Gimme.
Stop. It's snagged.
Gimme.
What?
It's snagged . See?
Oh, man.
Whoa, whoa, hey!
Hemingway, come here.
Come here. Hey!
Do you wanna catch this fish?
Just get right here. That's the spot, okay?
Just head west. Just head west, all right?
There you go. Good luck.
How's it going?
Yeah, I fish out here everyday with 'em.
Those are good.
Good luck.
How's it going?
Uh,
Yeah.
Uh.
Good luck.
See, I read that I should bring a loaded gun with me, so...
I took your advice to the letter.
I believe you have my pole.
Right.
And a fish.
Wait, wait, wait. I--I get the pole and the fish, but...
what's this?
The belly reel that goes with the-- the pole.
And how'd you know I'd come for them?
I didn't.
Everything in the world made me think you wouldn't.
There is something I should tell you.
About that day.
I never ran.
Huh?
I never ran away.
I was barefoot. So I...
hid in the woods and...
I saw you climb above that pole...
where I hooked the steelhead.
And then, I stepped on an orange...
and this.
See, when you came crashing along...
you came from upstream.
Uh--
And the orange--
Huh? And the orange and this, this telescope...
this telescope were downstream.
Now, I mean, come on. It doesn't take
Sherlock freakin' Holmes--
Okay.
Okay, okay, okay.
Just listen to me for a second.
Spying on me. While I was--
Okay, wait, hu-- Hold-- No--
While I was--
Hold on. Just give me a second.
Okay, I admit that is my telescope.
And I'm s-sorry that I was spying on you, but...
really, I was just wandering around...
looking for a place to swim and then...
there was you.
This beautiful girl.
And you were fishing.
And the "here goes nothing" way...
you chucked that hazel pole...
into the water, and the way you dove in and swam after it, I--
I just knew that you had some way of looking at things...
some way of looking at life and the world...
which is exactly the way of looking at things...
that I've been trying to look at things.
I n my whole life, I've only met two people...
who have ever looked at things...
any way close to that way.
My little brother...
and a philosopher who talks to his dog.
And with both of them it was love at first sight, too.
But I'm not sorry.
When you see the most amazing...
beautiful thing you've ever seen...
you don't think about what's right or polite...
or tell it to cover up.
Because you can't stop looking.
You s--
You're just helpless.
What's so funny?
I'm sorry.
You.
I n a tree.
Spouting off stuff like...
"Oh, good scholar"
and that "God never made...
"a more pure, innocent recreation...
than angling ."
I like that, Gus.
Can I ask you a question?
Yeah.
What are you doing here?
This is my cabin.
Shouldn't I be asking you that?
No.
Not here, here. I mean--
Here!
Here.
Alone.
Fishing.
What are you doing here?
Here here?
Here here.
Fishing.
You know, I saw you in Portland.
You did? Where?
I saw you rescue that trout from that filthy creek.
I guess you could say it made me...
So, I drove up here...
to see what I could see.
And I ran into this little boy...
who called himself Hemingway.
And he immediately...
launched into this epic tale...
about a giant fish that he caught with help...
from a certain superhero named Gus.
Who spent seven minutes under water
before he wrassled the fish with his bare hands.
Bullshit.
I know.
That's what I figured.
But I could see in his eyes...
what little Hemingway thought of you...
and it made me even more curious.
You know, I must have read...
that Fishing Dutchman's article...
like, 8000 times.
I knew it was you.
And this time I came to see you.
And you know what happened next?
Yeah.
You do?
Yeah.
You threw his prize fish in the fire?
It wasn't just any fish.
He was Nijinsky.
That went over real well, I'm sure.
Uh, not really.
I haven't even spoken to either of them since.
I don't even know why I came out here.
Guess I just needed to get away.
Your parents seem like an interesting match.
I nteresting is a kind word for it.
Bravo, Nijinsky.
There are two stories...
of how Nijinsky found his way...
onto my parents' mantle.
The one that landed my father his book deal.
And the one that's the truth.
Both versions begin the same way.
With an epic struggle...
between a determined young fly fisherman...
and a giant steelhead.
Little did either of them realize...
that their true nemesis...
was lurking somewhere down river.
It was my father's worst nightmare.
A mere plunker of worms...
had cost him his prized Nijinsky.
Whoever this crude interloper was...
he would have to be dealt with.
You--
Man to man.
had best refrain from that pole and defend yourself.
Because one of us is going in that river...
in search of my fish!
So be it, slicker.
But I guaran-goddamn-tee ya...
It ain't gonna be me.
Come on and fight me!
Come on.
Oops.
As my father watched the woman...
reel in Nijinsky for herself...
he had no idea...
that she would become his lifetime adversary.
She would also become my mom.
Looks like you could use a little warming up.
My parents came to an understanding.
The story would be told as maybe it should have been.
After all, my father reasoned...
she did cause his six-pound tippet to snap...
and he had spent all that time tiring the fish out...
making it easy for Ma to just reel him in.
So the deal was sealed.
H2O would have his story.
But never again...
would they use anything resembling reason...
in their discussion of the art of angling.
Never again would they go fishing together...
and never would their marriage vows waver or weaken.
Darn it.
Fly tying is for certain a tedious task...
but there's no need to let it get to you like that, my love.
Yeah, well, it ain't the fly that's bothering me.
Hm . Gus.
I just can't help but feel...
like we let him go.
You can't keep a person...
in a place he doesn't want to be.
No, but can't you at least make it a place...
that they might wanna visit?
Cripes.
Give me the other one.
What's that?
Um, it's today's dreefee.
What'd you say?
When you were a kid, didn't you have...
you know, some stuffed animal...
or a ratty blanket or something...
that you just absolutely...
could not go to sleep without?
I had the grossest pillow...
that I had to take everywhere.
Okay. Well, Bill Bob has dreefees.
Okay.
A dreefee is a, um...
it's a carefully selected relic...
of that day's adventure.
So there's a different one every night.
And just as important as the dreefee itself...
is the placement of the dreefee.
And if that's altered in any way...
before Bill Bob falls asleep...
it has the same effect of not having one at all.
And he doesn't fuss, he doesn't protest, he just--
doesn't go to sleep.
All night long.
M m-hm.
Wow.
There was one time that the dreefee was...
a--it was a dried-up dog turd.
And it had just-- It had been bleached white...
by, you know, the sun and the elements, and...
and it was shaped exactly like a tiny sleeping polar bear.
But Bill Bob said that it was a tiny sleeping polar bear.
And that it had been eaten by a dog and then it had proved indigestible...
and then it had been eliminated...
and due to its unmentionable...
experience in the dog, it was in a coma.
Bill Bob was going to invoke the powers of the Tooth Fairy...
to bring it back to life.
But Ma just threw the poor polar bear out the window...
without a question or even a glance...
at its miraculously sculpted bearness.
She didn't believe his story.
Guess not.
And he didn't sleep all night long?
M m-mm.
Here we go.
Where are we going?
Well, I'm going to Portland tonight...
and you...
you're staying here.
Come on.
Come on what?
What's the lightest leader you've got?
Three pound.
All right, hand me the rod.
Tie it up and bait it.
Come on.
Will it...
will it mess up your plan if I ask...
what exactly you're doing?
I'm fishing.
You do realize...
there's nothing but Chinook...
in the water right now, don't you?
I know that.
Those can weigh fifty pounds.
I know.
So...
even if it were possible...
to hook a Chinook...
on that leader without breaking it
you couldn't land him even if you played him all night.
I know that.
But you have to leave before dark.
I do.
But you don't, Gus.
Got to follow through with the plan.
There. Come here, Gus.
Come here.
Take the rod.
Keep your tip up.
Don't fight it.
Play the Chinook.
What?
You getting a little tuckered out there?
Me too.
Aha.
You heading home?
I thought you might be a girl.
As we walked upriver...
I felt like we were on a primordial journey...
to some forgotten, ancient home.
The fisherman in me was being unmade.
With so light a line...
there could be no question...
of ever bringing this great fish to bay.
So there would be no betrayal.
No struggle. No sacrifice.
No death.
There was only a Chinook...
leading an undone fisherman...
deeper into the night.
As I watched the sun wake the valley...
I felt as though an oldest, greatest, longest-lost friend...
had come to walk the road, unseen, beside me.
And just as quickly that feeling left...
and blended with the sunlight.
I knew from this point on there was no escape...
and nowhere to go.
I was already there.
♫ When the bough broke ♫
♫ We were crossing America ♫
♫ You with your stories ♫
♫ And me hanging on ♫
♫ Hands on the wheel ♫
♫ Your hair out the window ♫
♫ lts counterfeit color ♫
♫ Danced in the September air ♫
♫ When the bough broke ♫
♫ We were flirting with Canada ♫
♫ You said prove that you Iove me ♫
♫ And live with me there ♫
Today's dreefee.
♫ And leave all the frivolous ♫
♫ Back in America ♫
♫ You found true love ♫
♫ In a picture that you saw somewhere ♫
♫ He took her hand ♫
♫ They did cartwheels right into the air ♫
♫♫ And then they fell ♫♫
Eddy!
Ma?
What are you doing here?
I'm fishing with Eddy.
Cripes O'Reilly.
It's Glum Gus.
His name is...
Gus.
Hen?
People often don't know what they're talking about.
But when they talk about love...
they really don't know what they're talking about.
The one sure thing you can say about love...
is that there isn't much you can say about it.
Not that you shouldn't try.
You can make analogies.
Love is like a lot of things.
One thing it's like is a trout stream.
Try to capture a trout stream with a dam...
and you get a lake.
Try to catch it in a bucket...
and you get a bucket of water.
Put some under a microscope...
and you get a close-up look...
at some writhing micro-cooties.
But a trout stream...
is only a trout stream...
when it's flowing between its own two banks...
at its own pace...
in its own sweet way.
Run run river
♫ Carry me to my home in the ocean ♫
♫ Carry me away ♫
♫ I know I have a home ♫
♫ Somewhere far and removed like the stars ♫
♫ That make you feel like you got friends ♫
♫ Stars'II make you feel ♫
♫ Like you got friends ♫
♫ Follow the empty valley ♫
♫ Past the hills to the marshes of the estuary ♫
♫ Come in peaceful river ♫
♫ In the Iight of the moon ♫
♫ With the river I do run ♫
♫ In the hope that one day I will dive ♫
♫ Beneath the ocean ♫
♫♫ And that this river will forever run ♫♫
♫ Bet you're going fishing all of the time ♫
♫ Baby going fishing, too ♫
♫ I bet your Iife for your sweet wife ♫
♫ Gonna catch more fish than you ♫
♫ Oh, many fish bite if you got good bait ♫
♫ Here's a Iittle tip I would like to relate ♫
♫ Oh, many fish bite if you've got good bait ♫
♫ Oh, I'm going fishing ♫ ♫ Yes, I'm going fishing ♫
♫ And my baby's going fishing, too ♫
♫ Bet you're going fishing all of the time ♫
♫ Baby going fishing, too ♫
♫ I bet your Iife for your sweet wife ♫
♫ Gonna catch more fish than you ♫
♫ Oh, many fish bite if you got good bait ♫
♫ Here's a Iittle tip I would like to relate ♫
♫ Oh many fish bite if you've got good bait ♫
♫ Oh, I'm going fishing ♫ ♫ Yes, I'm going fishing ♫
♫ And my baby's going fishing, too ♫