Mississippi Solo

From Mississippi Solo: A Memoir, by Eddy L. Harris:

“Let me tell you,” he said. “When you’re wading out in the stream and the water is swift and cold and the bottom is rocky and slick and you’re fighting hard to keep your footing and stepping slow and you’re squinting with the sun in your face and you’re cool from the hips down and hot from the waist up and feeling just right, oh! there’s nothing like it in the world. It’s not just fishing; it’s making love. You’re making all the right moves, whipping your rod just right, your body is relaxed and your wrist flexible and you’re moving into the right position, slipping a little bit, finding your balance, tension, release, tension again. Aw! it’s beautiful. You know, or you think you know, the right fly to use, what time of year it is and what stages the insects in the water are in, how the fish are feeding, what types of nymphs or flies the fish are hungry for, whether you want to fish the ripples around the rocks or the still pools in the shade, cast upstream and let the fly drift back down to you, yeah that’s really fishing; fishing for the thinking man and if it works just right and that fish strikes, it’s absolutely beautiful. You’re riding a horse, not fishing. The feeling is all in your hands. And in your heart. Exhilaration. No. It is making love, the way you’re playing that fish, milking it of its energy, making it come to you, and your reel just squeals and sings with delight and excitement.”


2 thoughts on “Mississippi Solo

    1. Chris Post author

      Yeah, I like the run-on nature of it. It’s a pretty good book, though I have to say the “modern” Mississippi doesn’t sound that interesting to me as a route to take from source-to-mouth. Too much hassle with all the locks and things for my tastes. I love the lore around it, though, and the role its played in our national identity.


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