A slight wind blows from the east. Just enough to put a steady chop on the lake. In the west, the sun creeps toward the horizon making a sharp glare. Squinting into the water, visibility is next to nothing. Standing on the bow, the drift boat became a skiff. Tamarisks became mangroves. A reservation reservoir, Read More
Considered a complete nuisance by most, and something akin to rotting garbage by others, (which pretty much becomes true with time), pinks are at the bottom of the salmon totem pole. In some places they are considered worthy of targeting, but anywhere where there are more majestic fish, such as steelhead, they are a scourge. As, Read More
I’d been hearing it for weeks. Hushed reports from friends that it was happening. The talk became so pervasive it was clear it wasn’t a secret any more. The buzz was becoming unbearable. No matter how hard I tried the stars were not aligning. I wasn’t able to get in on the action. There are many, Read More
The river is a master storyteller. It gives cold weight to the tug at your calves, voice to the broad, gentle riffle, tang to the shower freshened air, and mystery to the sliding greens and blues of the long, glassy channel. Before the subject of its narrative is introduced – a tiny yellow puff, Read More
Spray from the river and your jacket collar take turns slapping you in the face. Wind pushes waves upstream. After driving a couple of hours and dumping the boat in the river the options are limited. Keep pushing. Spring is fickle. Calm bluebird days are interspersed with harsh winds, snow storms, hail, graupel, and nearly every, Read More
Yesterday I was risking sunburn and drinking gin and tonics. Today a chain law was in effect.
The fly rod was packed, but it wasn’t a fishing trip. A few half-hearted cast early on weren’t cause for inspiration. The kids were happy hanging out on the beach and the fishing prospects didn’t seem great. Then a three day Norte kicked in. Waves crashed relentlessly, churning up the bottom. When the wind finally laid down I figured, Read More
I heard Steven set the hook from thirty yards downstream. “Fish on?” I asked over my shoulder, unwilling to abandon my own drift just yet. “Uh, you could say that,” grunted Steven in reply. It was the year’s first post-work outing. With the equinox behind us and daylight savings time tacking an extra hour, Read More
We’ve known each other for years. In the days when I spent more time with a belay device in my hand than a fly rod, we climbed together often. But geography and time pulled us apart. So I was thrilled when Toby called and said he wanted to come visit. It was an opportunity, Read More