In her own mind, Brenda Hoover would be the most unlikely choice to be anybody’s hero. That’s because she’s so modest and unassuming. Arriving with her husband, Andy, and a brand new L.L. Bean rod, she needed casting instruction, only it didn’t take the usual half day. In 30 minutes, Brenda graduated and was on her way to hooking and landing some of the best specimens I’d seen all season. In three short days, Brenda and Andy plied three different bodies of water, each with its own distinct character, while Titan and Neptune, the two gods fishing guides are most intimate with, saw fit to whip up the seas only once. Andy worked from the bow, landing smallmouth bass, pickerel, white perch, yellow perch, and even catfish as they call them in the Hoover’s native Pennsylvania. Fishing from midships, Brenda beamed, not only from the successful rounds she won with her new rod and new expertise, but from the spectacle of the lake and river shores, from those sparkling September waters in Maine, and from the days in general. Laughter seemed to come to her as easily as breathing. It was impossible not to muse how lucky Andy had been to land this prize 38 years previous. And it was impossible, once I learned that Brenda is a breast cancer survivor who also manages, but is not defined by her non-Hodgkins lymphoma, not to view her as one amazing woman, and my newest hero. Yes, we did discuss the inevitable subject–why women outfish men–but we didn’t need to come to a conclusion. The conclusion came to us!
