I keep promising myself I'll learn how to fly fish.

The closest I've come recently, however, was a return visit to the American Museum of Fly Fishing in Manchester, Vt.

It was a stop at this museum a decade ago that first whet my appetite for the sport. Combining the challenge of matching a fly with what a trout or salmon might want to eat plus the chance to be out in pristine wilderness, fly-fishing seemed to promise an idyllic experience. Reading Norman MacLean's modern classic, "A River Runs Through It," only added to the allure.

PLEISSNER EXHIBIT

The museum has moved a few miles down Route 7A since we last stopped by. It's near the flagship store of Orvis, arguably the best-known purveyor of fly-fishing equipment in America. To broaden appeal, a staff member told us, there's been an effort to mount changing major exhibits. Until Oct. 31, an installation of Ogden Pleissner sketches and paintings fills the main gallery.

Entitled "The Sporting Grand Tour," the works on display do indeed provide a broad sampling of great places to fish and hunt in North America. Pleissner (1905-1983) began his career in Brooklyn and also painted pictures for the U.S. Army in the Aleutian Islands before turning to outdoor sports as his primary subject.

Along the way, he made friends with plenty of important people in high places. Whereas you and I might hole up in a tent or simple shack, he had the chance to stay in a New Brunswick camp designed by Stanford White. One frequent companion was Samuel Webb, scion of the family that owned Shelburne Farms, whom he met in Officers Training School. Pleissner eventually donated more than 500 pieces of art to the Shelburne Museum in Vermont.

Pleissner described himself as primarily a landscape painter. Indeed, landscape dominates the paintings, with an emphasis on light and mood. But I best liked the subtle actions depicted -- like the drama of pulling back on a rod and the arcing and tension of the line.

Of course, there's almost always an angler somewhere in the foreground. The artist does a wonderful job of showing the excitement of battling a game fish. River scenes like "Catch of the Day" and "Salmon Angler, Restigouche" reminded me of Winslow Homer's work. "River Voyagers" shows guides poling upstream in narrow Gaspe boats fitted with mahogany gunwales and swivel chairs. "Maine Guide" is one of his infrequent traditional portraits.

"Evening at the Forks Pool" shows three men in a boat in the foreground; jumping salmon fill the center of the canvas. In contrast, "Beaverkill Bridge" is a domesticated scene featuring a covered span amidst farmland in the Catskills.

FOREMOST FLYTIER

Western scenes interpret the time Pleissner spent guiding and fishing in Wyoming. Later, we came to Quebec paintings and depictions of fishing spots closer to home, like the Battenkill River in Vermont. I'd hoped to see a few Adirondack rivers and lakes, but there's really no other criticism that I'd level at the selection of work on display.

There's occasional commentary. The artist termed one man a "terrible guide, because we always camped in a boggy place which was filled with mosquitoes."

More philosophically, he claimed to paint "the relationship of man to nature or life. Everybody talks about life, but most people are talking only about human life."

Personal artifacts accompany the artwork. There's Pleissner's 1876 Orvis-made bamboo fly rod, work he did for Life Magazine on war-torn Europe in 1946 and a small diary his wife kept. I wish there had been more. It would have helped round out my knowledge of the man.