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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.
“Dada Dada there’s um… there’s um… you have a dragonfly on you!” announced my four year old as though I’d won the lottery. “Coooooool,” I said, humoring him but not bothering to look. I know better than to take my eyes off a half-tied blood knot. “Yep, on your special wader pants that give, Read More
Wind blew dust across the parking lot. A western facade adorned the front of the roadside gas station and paint was chipping off the sign above the door. Far from home, I stepped inside to grab a drink while my buddy and I waited to meet another friend to fish. At a picnic table, Read More
“In any collision someone is the hammer, and someone the nail. Be the hammer.”
Certain places have a way of getting their claws into you. I didn’t know what to expect the first time I pointed my truck south from Rock Springs on Highway 191. Rumors abounded of big deer, pure Colorado cutts, and stories of bottomless draws where outlaws like Butch and Sundance disappeared from the law., Read More
You live in a proud community which is chock full of admirable institutions and civic virtue. In all likelihood I’ve never been there, but I’ve experienced enough places to make that claim with confidence. I’m equally confident asserting that the local fly shop does more for you and your corner of the world than any other outfit in town. You disagree?, Read More
The clock reads 4:15am. The alarm is set for 4:45am. A few minutes pass and I decide attempting to sleep any more is futile. Like a kid on Christmas, I still have trouble sleeping when I’m heading out early to hunt or fish. I toss and turn and often am up before the alarm goes, Read More
I play at predator each fall. What hours I can spare from making a living, I spend slinking around the mountains and sagebrush steppe. In a good year I’ll kill an antelope, an elk, maybe a deer and a few birds. These I bring home to my family, where I pour more hours, and more love,, Read More
Two thousand miles of heartland are between us. I’ve always been bad at staying in touch, the same isn’t true of my brother. Eleven weeks ago, the playing field was leveled when I became an uncle. Within the first ten weeks my brother has gone solo for several days with the little guy, been on a road trip, Read More
Imagine if you will the year’s first ripe watermelon. You’ve been getting up each morning, munching some world traveling supermarket fruit with your eggs and coffee, and stepping out the front door to face the day, more or less satisfied with your circumstances. Then one bright afternoon you spot a sun-weathered old man selling fruit from the, Read More
Yesterday I was risking sunburn and drinking gin and tonics. Today a chain law was in effect.