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The Steelhead With A Thousand Faces
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.
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The Birth of A Fishing Town
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.
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In The End, Style Might Be All We Have
Over the course of 6 trips, in and out, and nearly 40 miles, I question whether or not it’s worth it.
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Banded
Folding neatly the greenhead splashed soundly onto the water. The old lady made quick work of the retrieve.
Kamchatka taimen fishing is just plain awesome. Top-water peacock bass action deep in the Amazon doesn’t suck either. And please, don’t get me started on swinging for Atlantic salmon in Northwestern Iceland. I ask that you not inquire because I don’t want to lie. I’ve never done any of those things. As a garden-variety,, Read More
My heart sank. Three shots, three hit birds, none in the bag. It’s called hunting for a reason. Do it long enough and things don’t always go right. Good dogs, responsible shooting, and practice mitigate lost or crippled birds. Normally, in a given season I might lose a couple, but this was entirely new, Read More
Years ago I read an account of a contemporary deer hunt in Gray’s Sporting Journal in which the author, after making the kill, swore to the animal that he wouldn’t waste any part of her. “Not one ounce,” he wrote. I don’t remember much else about the story, but that piece has stuck with, Read More
This fall we had the opportunity to spend a couple days fishing with our friend Tobias MacPhee. Toby is an old friend and an incredibly talented photographer. Check out the interview we did with him nearly a year ago, to learn about the awesome stuff he normally shoots. Today we just want to share a couple of his stunning, Read More
Conventional wisdom holds that there are two types of content that reliably succeed in a digital medium – kittens and naked people. As Steven and I are always trying to refine STS to give readers more of what they want, we’ve exhaustively considered both options. Since neither of us have a kitten, our path, Read More
A glow from inside the fridge illuminates the room. I’m the only one awake. Pulling a half gallon of milk from the side door a sharp pain shoots up my arm. Nearly dropping the carton, my left hand springs into action and helps guide the milk safely to the counter. Scotch and Ibuprofen dull, Read More
This is supposed to be a story about an elk hunt – a chronicle of scouting, spying and scrapping all fall; a tale of braving the elements, rugged terrain and early morning dark for a chance at a chance. There should be tracks in the snow and fateful first glimpses, stalking, crawling, held breath, Read More
It isn’t South Dakota. Grease wood at eye level impedes all progress. Russian olives pierce through layers of clothing, and they are out for blood. It’s tough country not traditionally suited for pheasants. Roosters take on the character of their surroundings – tough, wily, birds with well developed legs, that loathe to fly. They relish in mocking, Read More
A new year is dawning. So should old acquaintance be forgot? Heck no, that’s how we found all our new acquaintances! 2014 was very kind to STS, largely because you’ve been so generous with spreading the word and sharing our work with others. “Thank you” doesn’t do our gratitude justice, but it’s the best that we’ve, Read More
Kids are in the back seat, headphones on, watching a new National Geographic DVD. Under the seat is a 12 gauge and six weight. Interspersed throughout the cab are stuffed animals, a fuzzy pink blanket, tripod, binoculars, sippy cups, and a soft sided cooler with enough snacks to feed a small army. Confined in the, Read More