Articles

Big boy camping

The bacon sizzled in the skillet, and the lake, a giant black-water pothole lined by cypress, oak, beech and gum trees, was brimming with potential
Photo: William L. Farr / cc4.0

The hardwood fire smoked and sizzled in the early morning mist as Benny arranged the coals so they might support the weight of a cast-iron skillet lined with strips of fresh bacon. The smoke curled slowly — almost lazily — through the naked, gray branches of the cypress trees where it eventually mingled with the morning fog over the lake and seemingly disappeared.

Can you tell a good cast from a bad one?

The journey of a million casts starts with one clear image
Instructor John Juracek demonstrates proper casting mechanics to students at the School of Trout (photo: Jeremy Roberts).

I’m going to make a statement that may surprise you, but that I’m convinced is absolutely true.

Many fly fishers struggle to tell good fly casting from poor casting, or to distinguish a mechanically-sound fly casting stroke from a flawed stroke.

That sounds crazy, right? Every single fly fisher should be able to identify good casting. It’s the first thing we need to learn, because without that understanding — without knowing good casting when we see it — we have no clue what we’re trying to achieve with a fly rod in our hand.

Photo: Outwitting Trout with a Fly by Bertram Lackey

The photo shown above is from an obscure book titled Outwitting Trout With a Fly, Letters of a Western Angler, written by Bertram Lackey and published in 1929. I'm rather struck by the caster's attire. Seems to me more fitting for a night on the town than fly casting instruction. Then again, providing commentary on the sartorial choices of any female, in any era, is miles outside my ken. I'll simply note that styles appear to have changed over the intervening years. On the other hand, I feel much more qualified to discuss the casting mechanics being demonstrated.

Leave it to the Beaver

The DeHavilland Beaver is one of the most durable and dependable aircraft the world has ever known
Photo: Chris Hunt

As we glided over the boreal forests of northwest Ontario some years back, the 20-something pilot of the vintage DeHavilland Beaver in the seat to my left gave me a nudge. I looked over at the kid — the first question I asked him upon boarding was, “How many hours do you have?” — and he pointed to the sticks in front me.

His blonde hair poked out like corn silk from under a ball cap and his youthful face bore a questioning look. He glanced again at the sticks, and gave me a nod. Realizing what he was suggesting, I looked him dead in the eyes and mouthed the question, “Me?”

Daniel Webster's ghost

Is there any ground whose fruit was not once watered in blood?
Photo: Albert Sands Southworth

I stood on the bridge over Punch Brook, watching a small barefoot boy who had fallen asleep in the sun, his line still in the water. There was a school of brook trout just below me, and I wondered why they were not enticed by the boy’s offering.

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