Living on the Land in The Books Store

In these tall tales, McManus and his buddies learn how not to net a fish, why you should never get your hair cut by someone who's mad at you, what to do when a deer wanders into camp but your sleeping bag has frozen shut, and how to avoid bird-dog flatulence.

Traveling the highways and byways of the Pacific Northwest, the delightful backcountry characters of Kerplunk! understand how a life of hunting and fishing -- and its inherent potential for misadventure -- can resonate with larger meaning. McManus's characters know exactly why it costs $500 to make a fly lure that retails for $2; why installing a boat trailer hookup can lead to divorce; and, most important, why you should always listen for the sound of your fishing line hitting the water -- because in life as it is in fishing, you don't know you're in the water until you hear the kerplunk!

Fishermen everywhere will understand Gierach's quest to discover and explore new waters (and then not to divulge the best locations to anyone), the unlikely appeal of winter fly-fishing ("the ice fishing shanty served the dual purpose of group therapy and the neighborhood tavern"), how impossible it is to predict the best fishing ("Everything that happens is entirely familiar, but I don't always see it coming"), or even the absurdity of the entire exercise ("day after day, you're casting a fly that doesn't look like anything to fish that aren't hungry and may not even be there"). Braving trips on small prop planes and down "Oh-My-God" roads alike, Gierach and his fishing buddies pursue bull trout in British Columbia, steelhead in the Rocky Mountains, and pike so fierce that a wise fisherman wears Kevlar gloves for the obligatory trophy photo.

But as with any activity that depends on unspoiled wilderness, change is constant. Gierach sees this happening both in the landscape ("You never get to point at a meadow full of browsing mule deer and say, 'You know, all this was once condos.'") and at lodges that now require guests to sign liability waivers ("[I] had a brief vision of herds of lawyers coursing over the tundra in search of litigation"). Just the same, he is always awed by the experience of nature, or as he puts it: "You're on a lovely, remote wilderness river in the Alaskan backcountry. There are people who would make this trip and not even bring a fishing rod."

While clearly addressed to the fraternity of hunters, the essays and stories in this collection transcend the boundaries of the field. McGuane, writing passionately about how the hunt for food defines who we are in "The Heart of the Game," observes, as Sitting Bull did before him, "when the buffalo are gone, we will hunt mice, for we are hunters and we want our freedom." Hemingway, in "Remembering Shooting-Flying," an Esquire column from 1935, keeps world affairs in perspective when he wonders "how the snipe fly in Russia now and whether shooting pheasants is counter-revolutionary." "The Forest and the Steppe" is one of Turgenev's evocative "Hunter's Sketches"; evocative also defines "Mister Howard Was a Real Gent," one of Ruark's marvelous "Old Man and the Boy" contributions to Field & Stream.