tarpon jumping
Photo: Brett Martina

120 Days, Convergence lead 2017 Fly Fishing Film Tour lineup

Another fine lineup of films charges this year's F3T

If I'm being honest, the degree to which I tend to complement all things Felt Soul Media is becoming a little bit embarrassing. But the Colorado-based duo of Ben Knight and Travis Rummel have managed to do it again with a somewhat unexpected short film, titled 120 Days: Tarpon Season. Along with the latest from Conservation Hawks, Convergence, which we wrote about the other day, the two films serve to highlight another strong selection of films that F3T is showcasing on this year's tour.

Iron Creek - Yellowstone National Park
Photo: John Juracek

For the classics

Why is some of the best fly fishing writing disappearing?

For quite some years now, the classic books of fly fishing have been skating on thin ice. Very thin ice. Recently it appears—at least from where I stand—that the ice has finally given way. With luck a couple of classic titles may flounder for awhile, but the bulk of them seem to be plunging unceremoniously to depths from which only the most intrepid of future anglers might dredge them. Yes, the classics are pretty much gone. I’m taking it hard.

Private trout stream connecticut
Photo: Steve Zakur

Wait, do I have to share too?

When private-ish water goes public

There's this small brook, a couple of towns over, that I fish from time to time. It's little known except to a small cadre of small stream anglers. The fishing cannot be described as good, but that's not what turns on people who crawl along thin blue lines. Wild fish. Tricky casting. Ample opportunity to lay out f-bombs when you tangle in a pile of twigs for the third time in consecutive casts. That’s a full day for a small stream angler. Sometimes I go down to this brook with the sole intent of smoking a cigar and sipping single malt. Losing a fly to a tree is just a bonus.

microfiber mop
I catch trouts.

3 flies you hate to love

Those who don't like catching fish should move right along

There comes a time in every fly fisher’s life when your morals are compromised. Sure, you can stay pure and fish that dry fly upstream all the while extolling the virtues of your fine English tweed, but every now and then that nonsense doesn’t work and it’s time to get dirty. It’s time to tie on one of those flies that you hide from your buddies. The ones you tie late at night after that fourth whiskey. The ones that catch fish. Bright colors, flash, pom-poms.

flats casting from bow of skiff
Still on the bow. For now (photo: Chad Shmukler).

Age, pain and apologies

As we anglers age, we face unavoidable, inevitable truths

I woke up one morning late last month and felt like I’d been doing sit-ups all night. Not that doing calisthenics in my sleep would necessarily be a bad thing, but the muscles in my gut had clearly been involuntarily enlisted into some sort of nocturnal enterprise, and not one I consciously approved of.

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