Articles

Calculated risk

Part 1 of a 2-part story

by Jon Tobey - Friday, Feb 23rd, 2018

Photo: James St. John / cc2.0

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.

Buying a new fly rod

The comparisons you should—and shouldn't—be making when buying a fly rod

by John Juracek - Tuesday, Feb 20th, 2018

Casting to gulpers on foggy day on Hebgen Lake in Montana (photo: John Juracek).

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?

The price of procrastination

I’ve given up fishing my favorite trout stream

by Chris Madson - Friday, Feb 16th, 2018

A Kanorado, Kansas, grain elevator during an April dust storm (photo: Chris Madson).

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.

On fire

I’m slowly becoming the odd man out

by Spencer Durrant - Wednesday, Feb 14th, 2018

Photo: Wray Sinclair

My life stands at the critical juncture where, as Gary LaFontaine once said, young whippersnappers need to consider events of merit, like marriage, a mortgage, and a minivan.

I’ve considered them. I ruled out the minivan immediately.

Most of my friends passed this stage in life years ago, and while they debate names for unborn children, I’m trying to decide what to have inscribed on my next fly rod. Do I go with my full name, or name the rod after one of my favorite streams?

The pear-shaped paradox

No bird exemplifies the hunter’s paradox of killing what you love more poignantly than the woodcock

by Tom Davis - Tuesday, Feb 13th, 2018

Photo: Rodney Campbell / cc2.0

Ernie always swings for the fences. This has been his m.o. since he was a pup, and he shows no signs of throttling back and adopting a more measured, moderate approach. You’d think that at his age he’d be satisfied simply to make contact and get on base once in a while, but that’s not Ernie’s style. If he can’t knock it out of the park he’ll take a mighty cut and go down swinging, dammit.

If nothing else he’s proved true to the spirit of his namesake: Ernie Banks, the Cubs Hall-of-Famer who expressed his boundless joy for the game in his signature phrase “Let’s play two!”