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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.
We write occasionally on STS about the gear we find useful to our pursuits. We’ve examined, fly rods, optics, backpacks and assorted other essentials. But thus far it’s gone unsaid that no piece of equipment is half as critical as what we carry in our heads. It’s worth saying so now. I’ve been taught, Read More
The line stopped in the tea colored water. A quick head shake and the trout headed up stream. Minutes later we had a gorgeous brown at our feet. The sun was just coming over the horizon, we began fishing only moments earlier. Swollen and slightly off color, we thought the stream would be tough, Read More
“Dada… um… is that elk dead?” asked Everett, peering tentatively from the garage doorway, eyes pinned to the hanging animal. “It sure is.” I answered from my seat at the butchering table. “Want to come in and see it?” “That means it can’t move anymore” he said, either reminding himself or seeking confirmation before, Read More
Clean white snow covered the faint two track. Nobody had been into the basin since the last storm. The truck pitched forward and we cautiously made our decent. Without talking my dad and I both had the same feeling in the pit of our stomach; a level of excitement for elk we hoped to, Read More
I’m no reptile expert, but even I recognized the alligator as a monster. He was 10 feet long, black as tar and as broad across the midsection as a kitchen table. And unlike the typical gator sighting – nothing but nostrils and eyes – we could see every last menacing inch of him floating, Read More
Darkness slowly begins to give way to light. Slight hues of grey yield to orange while the world is still and quiet. The hour before sunrise has become somewhat of a sacred time. For years I rarely noticed it. I either just plain missed it or during my childhood, when I would get up, Read More
Pop, pop, pop. “Dada, what’s that noise?” asked Everett, excited. “That would be hunters shooting at birds.“ I explained. “Why don’t you shoot at birds?” he whined. “We have to find them first son. But we’re trying” I answered, the picture of paternal patience. We were hunting pheasants near home with a few stolen, Read More
Someone once described my brother Ryan as a combination of Greg Brady and Davy Crockett. An odd pairing, yes, but in some ways it made a lot of sense. At age 12, Ryan was on the Pro Staff for Matthews bows and one of the best under-18 archers in the country. As a chubby-cheeked, Read More
It’s Black Friday, the national holiday of acquisition and consumption. I bet attendees of the original Thanksgiving set about finding and collecting assorted provisions after their feast too. It was called hunting back then. Team STS may find time for some old-school shopping this afternoon, but first we need to finish counting our blessings., Read More
Filled with energy and as stubborn as her mother, she used to have a motor that never quit. She’s helped raise two kids and has pointed birds for over a dozen years. I didn’t know her in the early days, but as a grey faced elder she’s hard not to love. A few weeks ago, Read More