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Three generations of anglers on a steelhead stream
By E. Donnal Thomas, Jr., Photographs by the author
The morning had turned positively pleasant by the standards of southeast Alaska in early spring: high overcast skies, inert mist rather than driven rain, temperature conducive to line handling without the bother of fingerless woolen gloves. A solemn cathedral of cedar and hemlock towered overhead as we crept to the bank and peered into the tannic water below. I didn't really expect to see fish. With the tide falling just beyond the next bend downstream, the water looked low enough to wade and that was all I asked.
