by Chris Hunt - Tuesday, Feb 12th, 2019
Several years back, on a float trip in northern Utah where the murky currents of the aptly named Red Creek dump into the Green River, I had an epic day of fly fishing.
A summer squall had moved across the steppe country the day before, and Red Creek was brimming. The Green, cold and clear in its A section below Flaming Gorge Dam, collided with the muddy flows of the tributary and created a visible line between clean and dirty water that meandered downstream for a half a mile.
by Chad Shmukler - Monday, Feb 11th, 2019
Most of us try to improve our fishing by spending as much time as we can on the water. We throw ourselves into our angling with all the passion we can muster, and we learn through observation, trial and error, and—if we’re smart—by coaxing a valuable lesson from every single mistake we make. Becoming a better angler, truth be told, is mostly a function of time and patience. Lots of time and patience.
Unfortunately, though, most of us don’t have unlimited free time, or unlimited patience ... so we settle for learning what we can, when we can, and then hope for the best.
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.
In much of rural America, the town dump remains the great equalizer. Sometimes known as the more sanitary sounding “transfer station,” it’s the place that virtually...
It felt like a slower-than-usual day. But then, on the morning after, I noticed a tender area a few inches to the right of my belly-button—not coincidentally, the place...
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...
