Mark reached under his pillow and pulled back the hammer of his pistol. My eyes are heavy as I started to drift off to sleep. I barely hear the pickup rolling into camp. More shocked by the pistol than the pickup, I urge Mark to put away the gun. Throwing on a shirt I get up, Read More
Drinking in the recirculating air of the terminal, a day on the water sounded like a welcome respite. With the clock creeping near 10pm I had my fingers crossed that the last leg of my flight would come to pass. “Cancelled” and “delayed” were the most common words on every monitor. Customer service lines were, Read More
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
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