by Tom Davis - Tuesday, Feb 5th, 2019
Like most of us, I'd always thought that wine writing was 99% BS. You know, crapola like "a supple but substantial vintage, insouciant but not brazenly so, its soft undertones of plum and black cherry in lilting contrapuntal harmony to hints of oak, vanilla, and cardamon …"
by Tom Davis - Thursday, Jan 31st, 2019
These days no one bats an eye at the idea of flyfishing for muskies but there was a time—not so very long ago, really—when it was regarded with deep skepticism. If you have any familiarity with “conventional” muskie tackle it’s easy to figure out why. You could winch jackknifed semis out of ditches with the reels, buttress mineshafts with the rods, moor aircraft carriers with the lines and leaders.
by Todd Tanner - Wednesday, Jan 30th, 2019
You know I’m a writer. Been one for thirty eight years. I haven’t written much over the last few months, but I’ll do the best I can with this.
I was just watching two little birds. They flew by, twisting and turning in an intricate dance above the river, and for a brief moment I saw grace. Not the oft-used word but the thing itself. Grace. Wing tip to wing tip, feather to delicate feather, there was a living vision of purpose, beauty and control before my eyes, and then it moved on, upstream, out of sight.
by Chris Hunt - Monday, Jan 28th, 2019
There was a barbecue somewhere in Port Isabel over the weekend, and the folks sitting around drinking Shiner had quite the story to tell while the pig finished up in the pit. It was the kind of barbecue I would have loved—sunshine, great weather, good people … some great food and beer.
Just good friends enjoying one of those patented South Texas winter days before the throngs of tourists and spring breakers show up and generally throw everything into chaos.
I'm guessing it went something like this:
by Chris Hunt - Wednesday, Jan 23rd, 2019
Years ago, I was told that a small lake in the Lost River headwaters here in Idaho was "basically fishless—a few small rainbows." Not long after that, while camping with my kids, we took a hike to that lake, and I stowed a fly rod in my pack, mostly because the hike paralleled a small creek most of the way up the mountain, and I'd been wondering if the stream held any trout. We didn't fish the creek, opting instead to trudge up the trail to our destination if, for no other reason, than to see what was sure to be a stunning view of the lake and the mountains around us.
How much do you really like fishing? What’s the longest you think could go without?
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Killing native wildlife, defined by the ecologically challenged as “varmints,” is a popular American tradition, especially when organized into social events in which...
Korkers new Stealth Sneaker is a hybrid of the wading shoes we’ve seen grow in popularity lately and the tried-and-true wading boots...
There’s a creek freak in every fly fisher, even if it's compartmentalized away, deep in the emotional recesses of our psyches. Most of us who have fly fished for years —...
Fall is officially upon us, and fly-fishing gear manufacturers are pushing new rods, reels and other goods out to consumers this month. From a handful of new reels — both...
