HIGH WATER RESPITE
Family, Chinook and Uncertainty on the Oregon Coast
When I think about fishing in Oregon, I think about rain. Drops falling so fast and furious they seem to bounce when they hit the river’s surface. Standing waist deep in the water there is the sensation of it raining from below, as if the world itself has been turned on its head. The laws of gravity no longer apply.
I’ve been told never to start with the weather. Too mundane. A pedestrian opener for cocktail parties and school-day drop-offs. Yet the water is what matters. The tides and winds that blow at 60 mph—faster than the speed limit in much of the state—set the tone. The sun and its occasional presence are a gift. Every morning the weatherman puts out the forecast, a prediction of what’s to come, but the truth is, no one really knows.
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