by Todd Tanner - Thursday, Mar 1st, 2018
When I was a kid back in the late ’60s and early ‘70s, I used to spend my weekends fishing at Murrow Park. The park’s small pond, which was situated in the middle of a gorgeous meadow, had a sandy beach at one end where the locals came to swim in the summer. The deepest spot, out near the middle, was all of fifteen feet.
by Jon Tobey - Monday, Feb 26th, 2018
David came out of the basement as Jill pulled into the yard. He'd taken time off from his contracting business to work on their new house after the honeymoon. The house had good bones, but nothing had been updated. With his skills, the house was a bargain. He was covered in drywall dust when he came over to help her with the groceries and she wrinkled her nose. “You need a shower.” Before the trip, they would both work on the old bungalow, getting ready to flip it so they could move into a more family-friendly house — and she'd never once wrinkled her nose at how he smelled then.
“Why yes, the remodel is coming along fine, and I would love a nice dinner with my lovely wife, why do you ask?” She looked at him across the bag of groceries between them, her lips pressed tight together. He kicked himself for going on the attack like that, but ever since the assault the tension between them had not abated, and he couldn't remember the last time they touched.
“I just need some time, okay? It doesn't help when you are like this.”
He bit back a retort, and reached for the groceries instead. She pushed by him, and walked into the house. He followed and dropped the bag on the counter and went into the guest bedroom where he had been showering. And dressing. And sleeping. When he was done, he went into the kitchen where she was heating up some pasta. He grabbed a beer out of the fridge.“Starting already?” She had a way of arching her eyebrows which he’d never noticed before but particularly got to him now.
“What do you mean 'already?' I've been working my ass off all day.”
“It's just that you've been drinking a lot lately.”
“Well, I guess I don't have a lot else to do.” Dammit, again he said the wrong thing, and he knew it before he did it.“I don't care how you spend your time, David. Just don't get sloppy.”
by Jon Tobey - Friday, Feb 23rd, 2018
David hooked the big brown right where he thought he would, against the far bank under an overhanging snag. He and Jill had hiked upstream from camp in the morning and worked their way back over the course of the day. All in all, a great start to the honeymoon - they’d had a 50-fish day between them, but until now, she had him on the biggest fish of the trip. He was grim and determined as he fought it, saving the celebratory whoops for the netting.
by John Juracek - Tuesday, Feb 20th, 2018
Buying a new fly rod should be an enjoyable experience. But my years working in a fly shop suggest much of the time it isn’t. Customers often find the process rather confusing and intimidating, sometimes even downright scary. It’s easy to understand why: An overwhelming number of makes and models crowd the market. Prices range widely, with flagship models fetching around $900.00. Quality varies widely too, but not in clearly defined ways. Marketing campaigns are slick, captivating, hype-laden. Opinions are everywhere too, and cheap. Who and what are we to believe?
by Chris Madson - Friday, Feb 16th, 2018
It may be my favorite trout stream, partly because, as small as it is, it regularly yields browns and cutthroats over five pounds, and in large measure because it isn’t anything like what most people imagine when they think of trout water. It’s a sun-baked, sand-bottomed creek that winds through the sage thirty miles from the mountains that give it birth, a stream more likely to water pronghorn than elk. And, once upon a time, it was a great place to fish.
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