Maybe if I take five more steps, throw one more mend, skate one more fly, a hero will appear, armored in chrome, and dance to the music of my singing reel.
Calf deep now in the cold river, Trent’s completed his prelude of silky false casts and is ready to start the show in earnest.
Over the course of 6 trips, in and out, and nearly 40 miles, I question whether or not it’s worth it.
Folding neatly the greenhead splashed soundly onto the water. The old lady made quick work of the retrieve.
He’s peering skeptically from behind a boulder at a shin-deep seam that looks to be another of his son-in-law’s eccentricities. The koi pond back home in Florida looks more promising. Fishing? Sure, he loves fishing, been doing it all his life. 360 degrees of Gulf Stream blue horizon, a mile of water under the, Read More
We pointed the truck south without a single rod or gun. Instead we had the whole family, one canoe, a weeks worth of food, and visions of life on a desert river. It didn’t disappoint. River living is hard to beat. The pace of life slows down. Water sounds drown-out front country distractions. The gentle rhythm, Read More
In the past two years Stalking the Seam has introduced Steven and me to a host of new friends and prompted a pile of adventures. Sometimes, when really firing on all cylinders, it manages both at the same time. Such was the case in early June of 2014 when Louis Cahill of Gink and, Read More
So here’s the premise. Matt and I go fishing, with each of our sons. My wife and daughter are at some type of ladies event and Matt just wants to get out. For the record, Matt’s son is 3 and mine is 2. Our kids are intermittently walking, playing with various found implements of, Read More
The ancient Mayans used twenty day names and thirteen day numbers to define 260 unique days in each sacred round. Combined with a long count spanning the length of Time, their system was helpful in determining the appropriate dates for religious observances and, of course, divination. The Hebrew calendar is also used to position, Read More
“Sometimes I just want to sit in the front of the boat and not fish.” The message was clear. I nodded quietly and took in the scenery, curtailing my glances toward juicy water. With 50 some miles and five days of prime fishable water, I suppose it was even a reasonable request. However, it brought to, Read More
“Is it still spring break Dada?” asks the four year old at my bedside. “Yes it is son,” I answer into the pre-dawn gloom, then add without hope of success, “so you should go back to bed and rest up.” “Ohhhh yeaaaaaah!” he cheers, then launches into a pajama-clad spring break dance. The choreography, Read More
It’s time to come clean. I’ve barely fished since September. During hunting season it wasn’t a big deal. Now that spring is here it is. At times I step back and am able to put it all in perspective. Other times it consumes me. Tendonitis, tennis elbow, lateral epicondylitis, or whatever you want to, Read More
“Dada, um when we get home… I’m gonna tell Mama that um… I’m gonna tell her we didn’t catch ANY fish,” said the voice in my head. Or near my head anyway. With the squirt slung over my shoulder it can be hard to tell the difference. Regardless of its origin, I wasn’t, Read More
A blood red sun is about to dip below the horizon. Dogs are in their kennels, collars off. We head down the dirt road, about to put a great trip in the rearview mirror. It takes a couple of minutes but I notice my old man, riding shotgun, still has his vest on and, Read More