By Mark Taylor Trout anglers love a good hatch, when popping bugs create a feeding frenzy. I was on Virginia’s J ackson River recently when a different kind of hatch came off with a fury. I heard it before I saw it: Happy shouts and the echoing booms of plastic kayaks hitting river rocks. Soon,
By Eric Booten Excuse the grip and grin, but this fish and smile come with a story. I enjoyed talking fish with Sam, my fishing buddy and coworker. Several hours of the work week were routinely lost to these discussions, but when you work to protect fish and their habitat, sometimes you just take some
Some of the “new generation of conservationists,” Bay Area Youth Fly Fishing event, May 19, 2018. By Sam Davidson I recently spent a day fishing for trout—a rewarding mix of small wild fish and 10- to 12-inch stockers—on an obscure tributary to the upper Salinas River that flows out of the Santa Lucia range on
By Toner Mitchell I recently visited a tailwater stream known for its capacity to produce lots of brown trout, some of them quite large. The reservoir feeding this stream is operated exclusively for downstream agricultural users, the result of which is that the fishery i s also renowned for its poor conditions in winter, when
By Eric Booton I start by asking the kids “what kind of rod is this?” While holding up a basic Shakespeare 8-weight combo rod on display for them to analyze. The answers vary, some are wrong, some are accurate, and some are obscure. The best answer remains “it’s an old timey rod!” I am self-taught
The author, wade fishing the Trinity River. By Sam Davidson A guy I didn’t know die d recently while wade-fishing the lower American River near Sacramento. One moment he was there, the next he wasn’t. Impossible to say, exactly, what happened, since no one witnessed the incident. Apparently, he was a newbie to wading, likely
By Kirk Deeter I just finished floating the Deschutes River in Oregon with my friends from Korkers. The Deschutes is easily one of my favorite rivers to fish (and least favorite rivers to wade) in the world and there’s nobody better to fish that river with (and remain mostly vertical) than the crew from Korkers.
By Mark Taylor I have a friend who is an artist at the fly-tying vise. I mean, literally an artist. His creations don’t end up in the water, let alone in a fish’s mouth. They go into shadow boxes. Other friends actually fish their fancy flies, including articulated streamers that can take an hour each
By Eric Booton I learned a memorable lesson while on an overnight camping trip with a group of friends during college. We camped next to a small and freshly stocked reservoir in a quiet, Colorado valley. The fishing was easy and trout were on the menu. The following morning was complete with consequence, not just
“History is written from what can be found; what isn’t saved is lost, sunken and rotted, eaten by earth.” —Jill Lepore By Dave Ammons Hey, I found your fishing rod. It was early morning during my daily walk up the road as the lig ht was breaking across the canyon walls. I passed the day-use
By Chris Hunt The desert of southern Idaho is immense. Sliced ear to ear by the Snake River, this place is defined by fire. Some of the lava flows in Craters of the Moon National Monument are only 2,000 years old. Others are leftover from the last big blast from t he Yellowstone “hot spot”
Taking a break for a warm coffee on a dreary day on Virginia’s Smith River. (Sam Dean photo.) By Mark Taylor My friend Aaron reached out the other day with an invitation. “Got a seat in the boat for you.” A couple days later we were floating down Virginia’s Jackson River in Aaron’s new Boulder
By Eric Booton A handful of my fellow Southcentral Alaska trout bums manage to fish year-round on one of the larger river systems that remains mostly open. Frigid waters flow between ice shelves, their invitingly shallow depths a recipe for cold toes and frozen boots. The sun creeps above the ridgetops providing a brief amount
“The friends I can count on, I can count on one hand”. — Anonymous I have a fishing buddy who’s fond of sayings and that particular one has resonated with me. He’s always been one of the guys I have counted on. Not sure he can say the same thing about m e. We are
Just as a snake sheds its skin, we must shed our past over and over again. – —Gautama Buddha By Sam Davidson Recently I saw a post on social media reminding people that as spring comes on strong, so do snakes. The post offered visual proof (see above) of this, in the form of a
Photo by Mike Sepelak By Chris Hunt FOLKSTON, Ga.— I’ve never been a boat guy, choosing instead to find my best fly fishing using my two feet, usually after driving to the end of the road, and then wandering on a bit farther to the water few others bother to reach. It’s a preference thing.
By Chris Hunt The first time I visited a blackwater swamp, I was probably about 12. My dad rented a little jon boat from the marina near Uncertain, Texas, and he manned the tiller as we glided over the glassy waters of Caddo Lake. I was instantly enchanted. At the time, 35 years ago, East
“Oh, these vast, calm, measureless mountain days, inciting at once to work and rest! Days in whose light everything seems equally divine, opening a thousand windows to show us God. Nevermore, however weary, should one faint by the way who gains the blessings of one mountai n day; whatever his fate, long life, short life,
By Chris Hunt I got lost last night. Not your traditional, “I have no idea where I am,” kind of lost. But lost just the same. My daughter is home for a scant month between jobs—she’s returned from Colorado’s ski country and is a month away from her next gig at Colter Bay on Jackson
TU’s Brian Johnson, the Steelhead Whisperer, and Scott Yates at the end of the steelhead season on California’s central coast. By Sam Davidson The steelhead season ended almost exactly the way it began. I spent both the opener and the close at the same place, with the same crew. With the same results. Which is
