scott pruitt
Photo: Gage Skidmore

Pruitt sells out sportsmen

EPA head throws anglers under the bus with climate denial

I went to the crossroad, fell down on my knees
I went to the crossroad, fell down on my knees
Asked the Lord above "have mercy now, save poor Bob if you please"

Back in 1936, Robert Johnson recorded Cross Road Blues, one of the all-time blues classics. Johnson’s lyrics speak to regret and despair; he shares the story of a man who sold his soul to the devil and learned the hard way that he has to pay the ultimate price.

BLM lands montana

The ship be sinkin', grab a bucket

Sportsmen can make a huge difference when we stand together and speak with one voice

Back when I was guiding fly fishermen on the Henry’s Fork, I saw a sight I may never forget. We came floating around a bend in the river and there, in the distance, was a partially submerged drift boat. It was upright, and sideways to the current, and while the bow and stern were clear of the water, the rest of the boat was below the surface. Even though we were a hundred yards away, it was obvious that the boat was resting on the bottom in relatively shallow water.

hillary and girls flathead
Hillary Hutcheson and her daughters, Ella and Delaney (photo: Jeremy Roberts).

Convergence screening at F3T, trailer now available

New short film looks at what climate change means to angling families

Convergence, the latest in a series of films co-produced by Conservation Hawks and Conservation Media, looks at what our rapidly changing climate means to angling families. The film follows three different angling families; Hilary Hutcheson and her daughters Ella and Delaney; Travis Swartz (better known to most fly anglers as "Hank Patterson”); Simon Perkins, Els Van Woert and their daughter Pippa, and Pippa's grandfather (and Orvis CEO) Perk Perkins.

Freshwater drum
Photo: Johnny Carrol Sain

The new normal

Are you ready for it?

August in Arkansas. Lawns dried to a crispy, dusty brown. Bathwater lake temperatures, creeks cinched down to trickling riffles with pools full of hungry smallmouth bass. Day after day of 95-105 degree sunshine, which seems a damn near impossible combination with the ungodly and stifling humidity billowing up from the Gulf of Mexico. I like to spend this time waist deep in the creek.

But that’s not what’s happening this year.

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