-
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.
-
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.
-
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.
-
Banded
Folding neatly the greenhead splashed soundly onto the water. The old lady made quick work of the retrieve.
George Hunker, well-seasoned river guide and fly fishing instructor extraordinaire, once told me, “For all the discussion of equipment, fly selection and casting technique, I’ve found nothing is as important to my fishing success as being where the fish are.” His point is so obvious that, like the proverbial forest hidden among the trees,, Read More
They called him Deadeye Dan, although that was before I came along. He was a great shot. Dropping whitetails on the run as they darted between cottonwoods, elk in the fog at three hundred yard. Always just one shot. By the time I was able to tag along on hunts those days were long, Read More
Direct eye contact is said to incite violence among dogs and bears. Apparently they read it as an affront. Showing a big cat your back, meanwhile, will elicit pursuit and attack. Flight is a prey behavior and must be treated as such. Ravens, pack rats and barracuda are drawn to shiny objects. Antelope have been known to, Read More
Wet snow chilled me to the bone. I held back shivers and tried to remain focused. A half hour earlier I had taken my rain gear off for the fist time in days, trying to be quiet. Laying horizontal, alongside a downed tree trunk, I peered toward the elk. A cow had me dead to, Read More
I lived in a big sprawling metropolis for a number of years after college. For most of that time my commute – 20 miles: 45 to 120 minutes depending on traffic – was the defining element of each day. One Thursday, 3 days before Christmas, during a snow storm and the afternoon rush, a, Read More
A bugle interrupted a few fleeting moments of silence. They had been at it all night. The bull worked across the frost laden meadow as fog rolled off the river. By mid day the temps would be in the seventies but at the moment the chill of fall was still thick in the air. The, Read More
Not all that counts can be counted. Sometimes though, numbers can tell a story.
Wind kicked up debris. Water sprayed across the bow of the boat. Anchored, I sat hunkered as my buddy slowly waded down the bank. A big nose had poked out of the grey water. Despite several attempts the fish was not seen again. Editing photos that night something caught my eye. Something out of, Read More
19th century mystic Sri Kamakrishna once said, “Do not seek enlightenment unless you seek it as the man whose hair is on fire seeks the pond.” So I’ll refrain here from trying to make sense of the adventure drive – no anecdotes drawing connections between challenge and satisfaction; no essays muddling through the allure, Read More
“There are guides who have fallen out of the boat and those who have not…yet.” quipped my buddy merely a few weeks ago. The day after he spoke those words my son fell out of the boat for the first time. While not exactly a fishing guide, I fall into the not yet category. Until, Read More