Bass
Early Season Smallmouth on America’s First National River
Like the sun, now below the thickness of trees blurring the canyon rim, Ben had snuck away. I spotted him, stock-still at the edge of the pool, an immense heron holding a fishing rod. I hadn’t gone looking for him; just took my camera for a walk. I snapped a few frames, shutterclicking code, a small act of larceny. It was my first time on the Buffalo River and the next day would be the last of the trip. Soon after finding him, I let the camera...