wrote 8 months ago: The smell of freshly-spread hog manure on ochre September fields was heavy in the air on the banks o … more →
wrote 8 months ago: My Grandma Rosella was in a hospice slowly dying of cancer when I landed my first steelhead. It was … more →
wrote 9 months ago: Steelhead. Chasing chrome. Unicorns. An addiction, the most extreme form of freshwater fly fishing, … more →
wrote 9 months ago: … more →
wrote 1 year ago: The punter evening shift was hiking down as the the punter day shift – the Dark One and your a … more →
wrote 1 year ago: … more →
wrote 1 year ago: Lots of each are nice but sometimes one is all you need. The one need not be big or rare, just timel … more →
wrote 1 year ago: I won’t sit here and feed you a line about why it’s not called “catching” or … more →
wrote 1 year ago: Perhaps it would be good to flesh out and add some backstory to the characters you have and will enc … more →
wrote 1 year ago: It’s that time again. Crap must be reorganized. All that is old shall be made new, or at least … more →
wrote 1 year ago: Far-off and maddening spring, when it’s all next, next, next. Bust out enough of this pattern … more →
wrote 1 year ago: I wish I had a better picture for you. Sunday, November 6. The last short beaten-down day of a 4-day … more →
wrote 1 year ago: is no steelhead. … more →
wrote 1 year ago: Fishing, I mean – there’s no justification for blogging. Bear with me, this question is … more →
wrote 1 year ago: Fish, preferably wild, caught on a fly. Good beer and really good friends. Lots of each are often ni … more →