“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…

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