Articles

Of these hills

Turkeys start gobbling, shad start running, and crappie start biting when the dogwood buds grow to the size of a squirrel’s ear

by Matthew Reilly - Tuesday, May 29th, 2018

Photo: Matt Reilly

There’s a saying developed and propagated in the great state of Virginia that outshines and outperforms any watch or calendar of any make or ability—at least as far as its use in predicting the outset of the plethora of sporting traditions that burst into effect following the spring equinox. It’s a device fashioned of local knowledge by minds weathered and ecologically observant enough to do so, and it’s made truer with each passing year that it rings on time.

Crawdads

Mudbugs are a fixture in many of the rivers and creeks where we chase fish

by Johnny Carrol Sain - Thursday, May 24th, 2018

Photo: Johnny Carrol Sain

The most humble of waters call to me. Chocolate-milk-colored seeps and tinkling rocky rivulets no wider than a long stride are the most persuasive. I know the denizens of those tiny waters, and they call as well. They whisper of a time that seems not long ago when all I wanted could be found at the end of a long dirt driveway or just beyond the next creek riffle.

I wanted crawdads.

Best fishing sunglasses for 2019

Our ever-evolving picks for the best lenses to help you see the fish you're chasing

by Chad Shmukler - Tuesday, May 22nd, 2018

Photo: Chad Shmukler

Once again, it's been a couple of years since we last updated our picks for the best fishing sunglasses you can take with you to the water, whether that water is a sun-drenched, crystal clear freestone river, a tree-lined spring creek, a murky bass pond, a saltwater flat or the deep blue ocean.

The mountains are calling

The gobble of a wild turkey is a blend of science and magic

by Johnny Carrol Sain - Monday, May 21st, 2018

Photo: Johnny Carrol Sain

I always have to convince myself that the first gobbler I hear in the spring was really a gobbler. It wasn't a woodpecker hammering on a hickory, or a distant barking dog. It was a turkey. The mystique -- much bigger than the turkey -- engulfs the real-world science going on in the woods, and the mystique is in the gobble. It's magic. That thundering warble doesn't seem real. And it can't come from the throat of a bird, can it?

Preacher

Think of this story as fiction ... or the incoherent ramblings of a coot-crazy fisherman

by Todd Tanner - Thursday, May 17th, 2018

Photo: Todd Tanner

I want you to think of this story as fiction. Fiction, or the incoherent ramblings of a coot-crazy fly fisherman. Maybe even the deliberate fabrications of a man without much use for the truth.

That’s wrong, of course. I’m going to write it down just the way it happened. But it will be better for everyone if we treat this particular account as a tall tale.