by David N. McIlvaney - Tuesday, May 3rd, 2022
As I wrote in “Little Black Shit”, I don’t tie flies. I need it said up here again for the end of this to make sense.
I was back in California and heading north from San Francisco to fish Hat Creek and/or the Fall River as I wanted to do some dry fly fishing. On the way, I reached out to my friend, Max Fink, and told him of my plans. He paused for a moment then said, “Dude, don’t be an idiot. Go to the Pit. And get a wading staff if you don’t have one.”
by Johnny Carrol Sain - Saturday, Apr 30th, 2022
Wars and rumors of wars. Pandemic. Supply line failure. Shifting climate.
The Four Horseman of the current apocalypse (how many have we had now?) vary a bit from their Biblical forerunners, but uncertainty is certainly in the air nowadays. And though fear is the mind-killer, uncertainty is fear’s dark and unfathomable mother. You’d think we’d be more comfortable in her presence nowadays. She’s only been here since the beginning.
by Spencer Durrant - Friday, Apr 29th, 2022
The wind howled from the West and snow fell sideways, which made trout fishing rather pointless. It was the kind of spring weather that you just can’t fish through; you have to wait it out. So I stayed home for the better part of a week, tying flies and filling boxes full of patterns I’ll need when summer rolls around. I kept looking out the window, hoping for a break in the weather and warm enough temps to coax a blue-wing hatch into existence.
by Tom Davis - Monday, Apr 25th, 2022
The guy’s name was Charlie, I think. The one time I met him, at the now long-defunct Gustav Pabst Invitational Hungarian Partridge Shoot (a.k.a. the One Box Hun Hunt), he showed up in a Jaguar sedan with his German shorthaired pointer riding shotgun. That was pretty cool, but what made an even deeper impression—and permanently endeared Charlie to me—was that after a full day of bird hunting in the fencerows and stubblefields of east-central Wisconsin, he opened the door of the Jag and let his wet, muddy, stinky dog jump right in.
by Todd Tanner - Saturday, Apr 23rd, 2022
As we were finishing up our annual School of Trout class in Idaho last fall, a student brought up the subject of fly fishing guides. He wanted to book a guide for a couple of days on the Henry’s Fork before he headed home, and he decided to ask for my opinion. It’s been quite a while since I wrote about fly fishing guides, so it’s probably not surprising that our conversation nudged me to type up this particular piece.
I've always thrived on learning off the cuff, being thrown to the wolves, sink or swim.
Back in the mid-90's I interviewed for a magnet crane operator job at a...
“This isn’t something you normally say when you’re fly-fishing,” mused Kyle Zempel, “but thank goodness for the wind.”
What Zempel, the proprietor of the Black...
The Tongass National Forest in the U.S. state of Alaska is a special place for conservation biologist Dominick DellaSala, even after decades of traveling the world to...
Almost a year ago, I reviewed the original Korkers River Ops...
That old, weathered ball cap that’s endured the best of adventures and is likely worse for the wear is a time-honored look. Torn and worn, faded and, let’s face it,...
After the coronavirus completely spiked the 2021 Fly Fishing Show season, the 2022 show schedule went off mostly as planned, with the exception of the postponement of the...
