“Today is your day. Fish or don’t fish.”
We were standing outside a gas station under the roof covering the pumps, trying to stay out of the pouring rain. The river I passed on the way to the meet was rising—off color and moving fast.
I’d come a long way to fish the Varmá and had to ask, “Will we see fish?”
My guide took a slow drink from his coffee in that infuriating way guides do when they know something you don’t. “This is Iceland,” he said. “There are always fish.”
This is Iceland. I needed a new fishing mantra anyway…