The ranks of the catch and release fisherman, whether fly or otherwise, are growing. Even if you're not a no-kill fisherman, it stands to reason that if the fish you're targeting isn't intended for your dinner plate, it is wise to take care to insure that fish is released safely. Not just released, mind you, but released in a manner that takes all reasonable measures to insure that -- once released -- that fish will survive and live on to be caught another day and hopefully spawn. The fact of the matter is that simply releasing a fish does little to insure it's survival if that fish isn't played and handled correctly.

Following are 10 tips for insuring that your catch makes it back into the water for another angler to pursue. While these guidelines are written from the perspective of the trout and salmon fisherman, virtually all of these guidelines apply to other species as well.

With spring coming to the east and many a fisherman itching to shake off this year's long winter, it seems like a good time to call attention to a wonderfully informative short film about didymo, released last year by Jason du Pont. Most, if not all, of you have heard about didymo, and many others may fish or have fished in waters that have become infected with didymo. For those of you unfamiliar with Didymo, Didymo (Didymosphenia geminata), commonly known as "rock snot", is an invasive algae that thrives in some cold water habitats, forming thick mats on river and stream bottoms.

Despite familiarity with didymo and the threats it poses to the rivers we all hold dear, how many of us have seen didymo first hand? How many of us have experienced the impact of a didymo outbreak? Though we bear in mind the didymo threat and take precautions to avoid helping it spread to water bodies currently not infected but that remain under constant threat because of their proximity to infected streams or rivers, how sincere and extensive are those efforts, espeically for those of us that have no personal experience with the algae itself?

Kype Magazine's George Douglas, steelhead and salmon fishing guide and prolific author, is seeking support for a new book project he's dubbed 'The Fishing Gods'. The book, which seems to be already complete, features sixteen of the world's most prominent fishing guides who reveal their stories, techniques, approaches and favorite flies. The flies featured in the book have been photographed and the book includes step-by-step tying instructions from Dec Hogan and Marty Howard.

Douglas has put together a video introducing the project and providing some excerpts of the book. While I don't know George personally, the one immediately obvious takeaway while watching the video (other than that I wish he'd burn that hat) is that he is passionate about the project. And it seems rightfully so. The idea of fishing knowledge from some of the world's best fishermen compiled into a single resource is a compelling one. The idea of one that's written in such a way as to also be entertaining, and there's no reason to assume otherwise given's Douglas' other writings, is even more intriguing.

Douglas cut his teeth on upstate New York's Salmon River, an excellent salmon and steelhead fishery upon which hordes of absolutely wretched individuals descend annually to participate in a ritual some call fishing, but that no one in their right mind seriously calls fly fishing. Peppered among these masses are a handful of excellent fishermen and dedicated guides who manage to extract the best out of a complicated fishery that should be one of the nation's true gems. Since his time on the Salmon River, Douglas migrated to Washington State and has since returned to the Great Lakes region, now guiding in Ohio's Steelhead Alley.

After seeming like a trip that would terminally remain eons away, we find ourselves less than a week away from traveling to Yellowstone National Park for 5 days of fly fishing in Yellowstone's backcountry. There are plenty of obvious reasons to be as giddy as a child at the thought of fishing the park's waters: large, beautiful, wild and/or native trout, stunning scenery, peace and solitude, etc. One of the most intriguing ideas about fishing in Yellowstone and on other western waters this time of year, especially for fly fishermen from the lesser East who all too often have to do the whole match-the-hatch thing, is the opportunity to fish large terrestrial and/or attractor patterns.

In much of the West and especially on the Yellowstone's Lamar River, which we'll be fishing on the tail end of our upcoming trip, this means hoppers and big attractors like Chubby Chernobyls. True, we're a bit late for the salmonflies and the big salmonfly and attractor patterns that go along with them. And, we're a bit early for prime hopper season, though I have heard that the season is progressing a little quicker than normal. Still. Hoppers.

This isn't the first time I've taken time to mention Albright's seemingly perpetual 70% off sale. I'm also not the only one to take notice, as Bjorn Stromsness over at Bonefish on the Brain has also taken the time to alert his readers to Albright's everlasting closeouts. Still, I thought it worth pointing out at least one more time. Albright, maker of what we only know to be rods and reels of reasonable quality, obviously thinks you have a preposterously short memory and shamefully poor math skills. What else could explain the fact that Albright continues to try to lure customers in with "limited time" high percentage discounts that suggest to the unsuspecting shopper that they're staring at a deal that's seemingly too good to be true.

Of course, that's because it is. As I explained in my original article on the matter, Albright -- a tackle manufacturer with, to my knowledge, no brick-and-mortar product placement -- habitually sets very high MSRPs for their rods and reels, MSRPs at which their products are seemingly never actually sold (I'd welcome eating humble pie on this point, but I've yet to hear of anyone that actually paid anything close to MSRP for any of Albright's rods or reels). The products are then sold at price points that are only a fraction of these MSRPs, making the products appear to be deeply discounted.

It's fair to say that you couldn't classify me as religious. I don't subscribe to any school of religious thought, I certainly don't attend services of any kind and the only higher power I spend any time dwelling on is the one behind the inner workings of the trout streams I frequent. That said, there's clearly a deity of some sort at work to prevent me from ever casting to, let alone catching, a bonefish. Either that or I've just had some shitty luck.

Two times in the last 4 years, 2 nearly finalized trips to chase bonefish on the Abaco Out Islands ended up being cancelled. These are trips where the details couldn't have possibly been easier to finalize. The house at which which were scheduled to stay was owned by a family friend and the guide we were scheduled to hit the flats with lived next door. Fool proof, right? Nope.

Who would have thought that a long avoided -- but in the end, considerably pleasant -- family trip to Disney World would offer up a fresh chance to finally chase bones on Bahama flats, even if only for a day? A quick stop of our Disney cruise ship in Nassau offered up a day to get out with a local guide and be back on the boat in time not to be stranded while my family sailed on to a private island that Disney felt necessary to turn into a shamelessly manufactured theme park instead of letting people bonefish on any of the several perfectly good looking flats that surround it.

Until one of my good friends became a custom rod builder, I was squarely under the assumption that having a custom fly rod built was a luxury intended specifically for grey-haired men who spent their evenings sitting in multi-million dollar fishing lodges drinking $200 bottles of scotch. In other words, guys who have money to burn on having a fly rod built to their exacting preferences. While this can certainly be the case, I've since learned that having a rod built to your custom specifications is not only for blue bloods with swollen bank accounts. In fact, having the rod of your dreams built by a custom rod maker can not only yield a rod that you've helped design every aspect of, but can also save you a considerable amount of money in the process.

To be clear, I'm not talking about custom bamboo rods built on rod-maker designed and crafted blanks. That's something I know nothing about and still, probably ignorantly, think of as a luxury confined to the aforementioned grey-haired blue blood crowd. I'm talking about that Sage One, Orvis Helios or R.L. Winston Boron IIx you've been eying up, but have been reluctant to drop $700-900 on. What if you could have that One or Helios, with custom designed aesthetics and hand-selected components and backed by the same warranty as you'd get buying from your local fly shop or online, all while saving as much as a hundred dollars or more in the process? This might not happen with every rod, but it is often the case.

If you're a regular reader of one of my favorite fishing blogs, Gink and Gasoline, then you already know that Louis Cahill and Kent Klewein continue to spew out interesting, entertaining posts from their seemingly endless supply of fishing tips, stories, videos, fly recipes and more. That Louis guy, whose photos seem be on the cover of every fly fishing magazine that shows up at my house these days, ain't too bad behind the lens either. G+G's latest tidbit shows anglers how to remove that hook you'll inevitably drive into your own or an angler buddy's skin, and how to do it right.

The whole how to is presented in video form, which you can see just above. And to be clear, the presentation won't leave anything to your imagination as to how this hook removal theory will apply to a real life hook-in-arm situation. G+G's Louis Cahill takes a hook in the arm not once, but twice, in order to provide a proper test subject for Kent Klewein's removal demonstration.

You know how it goes: you're 3 days into a 4 day fishing trip and already you're dreading the trip coming to an end. Getting away, being in a beautiful place, doing something you love isn't often something you're eager to put behind you. Not only are you dreading the current trip coming to a resolution, you're probably standing there, feet in river, planning your next trip in between casts. This is typical. It's something that almost every one of us who considers fishing a passion can relate to. On certain rare occasions, however, the best part of a fishing trip isn't the biggest fish that came to hand, or the time spent catching up with friends, and it most certainly isn't the whiskey hangover you spent the second morning of the trip enjoying. Sometimes, the best part of a fishing trip is the drive home.

Now, I know I'm not supposed to say this. If you read a healthy variety of fly fishing publications these days, you've likely come under the impression that the true die-hard breed of fly fisherman spends every waking minute on the water. If you consider yourself a die-hard fisherman as well, then you best not talk about not fishing or otherwise performing fishing related activities. Not ever. The ecstasy of being on a river, rod in hand, is at all times so overwhelming that the very thought of leaving is preposterous. True die-hard fly fisherman have tales of glory to share, tales of steely reserve that allows them to be on the water in the most inhospitable conditions without experiencing a moment of displeasure. This modern, agro fly fishing denizen fishes in Alaska in sub-zero temperatures while simultaneously being dispatched by his 14th wife and/or girlfriend and while grizzly bears maul and consume his children. Stopping. Fishing. Can. Not. Happen.