The Jedi master of fishing, Lefty Kreh, is the subject of two new books. Most of us would kill for one volume, and here's Lefty with two keepers.
One he has put together himself, something he has been threatening to do for some time but never found the time. The other is a tribute from some of fishing's big names.
Kreh, who held the job I now have until his "retirement" in January 1992, has written an entire library full of fishing books and magazine articles. But for his autobiography, My Life Was This Big, he has teamed up with Chris Millard, a former editor at Golf World magazine.
The other book, All the Best: Celebrating Lefty Kreh, is the work of Flip Pallot, angler, author and TV host. As a biography, it covers much of the same ground. Its advantage is the stunning number of photos - some by Kreh, many of him - and memories shared by those who have fished with him.
As Nick Lyons, no slouch in the writing and fishing departments, notes: "This is a happy book - a book written with love and profound gratitude to celebrate a man who has accomplished so much, befriended so many, and added to our small world of fly fishing a unique and enduring luster."
The autobiography is a fun read with lots of background on the origin of his famous fly - Lefty's Deceiver - which was depicted on the 29-cent postage stamp in 1991; how he came to be a world-class caster with either hand; and his own casting technique, a far cry from the traditional 10-and-2 style taught to generations of fly anglers. For carp fishermen, he even includes a can't-miss recipe for dough balls.
A Depression-era kid from Frederick who honed his outdoors skills to put food on the table for his widowed mom and three siblings, Kreh includes stories about fishing with Fidel Castro and Ernest Hemingway and with regular folks like you and me.
In any autobiography, there are bound to be stories that don't make the cut. I wish his publisher had found room for the one about Kreh being contaminated with anthrax while working at Fort Detrick (the sub-strain is named for him) and the one about being marooned in the Everglades with two outdoors greats: Vic Dunaway of The Miami Herald and Nelson Bryant of The New York Times.
I'm not going to spoil those tales, in case Kreh decides to pen a Volume 2.
One quibble: The title of the autobiography is in past tense. Even at 83, Kreh still has some living left in him.
