Joy
There is a small creek nearby that I often fish in the summertime. It isn’t anything special as creeks go, but something about it has always resonated with me. Maybe it’s the way the willows screen the water enough to dapple the sunlight just so. Or perhaps it’s that particularly eerie quality the old-growth Lodgepole pines...
Winter on the Niangua
It is mid-day in January and trout are rising on the Niangua. Wool shod, from top to bottom, I make the fifteen minute drive to frigid seclusion at the top of the Ozark range. As I pull in, the mist sags above the flow. The white oak trunks are black against the snowy hillsides. While glancing expectantly,...
Paddling Isle Royale
I’m sitting in my kayak under one of only two bridges in Isle Royale National Park. The water is shallow, clear, and lined by variegated and brightly colored stones. No one knows where I am, I am all alone and supremely happy. Through this narrow inlet that leads to the vast expanse of Lake Superior...
The Greenhorn
I had just threaded my line through the guides, attached a fly to my tippet, and was ready to cast when the uninvited fisherman emerged from the curtain of alders near the river’s bend. In a rushed act of desperate deceit, I hooked the fly to one of the rod’s guides, tightened the line around...
Trout on a worm
My trail companion and I took the morning to fish a small trout stream. I would not be fly fishing today as the vegetation grew to the narrow water’s edge, leaving no room for a cast. Walking to the bottom of a steep waterfall, I dropped my line into a deep pool created by an...
The Genius of Fishing
“The public is wonderfully tolerant. It forgives everything except genius.” -Oscar Wilde “If people don’t occasionally walk away from you shaking their heads, you’re doing something wrong.” -John Gierach In this world, there are two types of people—among myriads— who have always been on the fringe of society: Geniuses and Fishermen. These two may, at...
Water and Trout
Her world was water. Moving water. The rocks around her had changed little over the years, but the cold, liquid medium she existed in was forever morphing to the substrate through which it flowed. The water originated from snow pack, not far from her location at the headwaters of the stream. Cascading and rushing violently...
Big Fish Story
Water. A boat or a bit of shoreline. A rod, bait, maybe a net. That perfect fish. I’d place my bets that you’re already seeing it, that time when you pulled a slick, silvery body in. That time a surge that felt a lot like love came up with the end of your swallowed line....
Cabin Creek
In Connecticut, we are fortunate to have many small streams that have good populations of wild trout. These streams are located on state land and have good access. This is one such stream. A winding, tumbling crystal clear stream with lots of woody debris to make it a challenge to get your fly to its...
I Know This Place
I know this place I know every rock Every cut bank, every sunken log Every deep run, hidden pocket, and back eddy Every tree I know this place Strangely, I think, it’s beginning to know me Maybe even tolerate me Though it didn’t always I know every rock And there’s an eternity...
It Looked Like He Knew What He Was Doing
I have a friend who casts a fly for neither distance nor accuracy nor stealth. Aside from those limitations he’s a splendid fisherman. It’s not for lack of strength or dexterity or intellect. Warren is a farm boy from Catawba, Wisconsin, and he has the farm-boy frame you’d expect: bone, muscle and gristle. He learned...
Sudden Slack
In the opinionated world of the fly angler, you will hear a bunch of “gospel” telling you everything from what you should wear, to what tippet you should use. You doubt me? Google, “Tenkara Fad” and see what happens. My favorite opinions are the ones that tell me if I am actually trying to catch...
