Floating rivers as a whitewater guide, the anglers I encountered were stuffy old males with gin-blossom noses who stood on the side of the river glaring at me as I floated by.
The crops have been harvested, the soil tilled. The fields are blanketed in snow. Normally, this is a farmer’s quiet season. But this year, on either side of the Canada-U.S. border, there’s a chill ...