The New Yorker

"With an assist from a helicopter, a nimble fly fisherman, or, for that matter, a sweaty palmed neophyte, could be deposited on a gravel bar in an otherwise inaccessible river and, after a few casts, or maybe just one cast, have an epiphany with a two-fisted salmon that in ones lifetime catalogue of sublime memories would rank perhaps a notch below the birth of ones children…"



