Elliott Adler is The Drake's Senior Editor and host of the magazine's podcast, The DrakeCast. He lives in Madison, Wisconsin. Follow him: @cobaltjackson
For those of you who subscribe to the Drake Magazine, you’ll notice it’s been a while since we’ve heard anything about Clyde, the magazine’s 1974 Mercury Marquis that travels the country. This car invites mishaps, cops, and adoration from anyone who sees him. But where has he been, and what’s he been up to? Today on the podcast, we speak with writer John Agricola to check in on Clyde and hear about his latest adventures.
In this episode of The DrakeCast we head to the backwaters of the Mississippi River to attempt a northwoods cast and blast, chasing a dinner of pike and squirrel from my newly refinished Gheenoe. As a committed catch and release angler, this was a new and somewhat uncomfortable experience for me. Later on, we’re joined by outdoors writer Patrick Durkin to contextualize our mission and talk about the fluctuations in hunting and angling participation over the years.
In this episode of The DrakeCast, we sit down with Drake Magazine founder and editor, Tom Bie, to talk through the Fall 2025 issue of the magazine. We’ll provide some background information on the stories we ran, why we ran them, and hear contributor Mike Fitzgerald read his essay that we both thought was fantastic.
In this episode of The DrakeCast we return to Alaska’s Bristol Bay with The Lodge at 58* North. This is the second part of a series, so if you missed the first one, go back and listen to Episode #70: A Week in Bristol Bay w/ The Lodge at 58* North.
In this episode of The DrakeCast we head to The Lodge at 58* North for a week of fishing Alaska’s Bristol Bay. In between chasing trout, char, grayling and salmon, we chat with the people who add to this already remarkable place.
Badger 2, loading at Antigo, Wisconsin, 1921. A.J. Kingsbury photo, MCRM collection. December 1978 Gazette.
I first met Israel on a steelheading adventure in Southeastern Alaska back in 2018 (a trip we documented in an earlier episode of the podcast). It had been a while since we had seen each other so this past summer he drove sixteen hours north to join me on a search for the best fishing Wisconsin has to offer: smallmouth bass on poppers. It took a couple of days but we eventually found an entire river teeming with willing, surface-feeding fish. But seeing as he had driven all that way, on day three, we decided to shift gears. Or as Israel phrased it, “We absolutely waylaid smallmouth all day yesterday on poppers. So we figured why not kick ourself in the [expletive] and try and go after musky today.”
If you’ve ever flyfished for musky, or even seen a video of others doing so, you have in part to credit (or blame, for those of you who caught the bug) Larry Mann and Wendy Williamson. The pair had cut their teeth guiding in Colorado but in the late 1990s familial obligations brought them to Hayward, Wisconsin. “Our friends in Colorado pretty much thought we were crazy,” remembers Mann. “Then they came and fished with us. And they said, ‘maybe not so crazy…’”
In 2021, the Michigan Department of Natural Resources completed the removal of a derelict dam from the Dowagiac River. For the first time in over 120 years, the bottom four miles of the Dowagiac were reconnected with the 150+ miles of water in the main stem and its many tributaries upstream, making this possibly the most dramatically changed river in the Midwest. But whether or not that change has been for the better is still up for discussion. This episode is about how the people, the water way, and the fish have adapted.
In May of 2025, I found myself in a boat with someone who on paper, I did not like. I was on the oars and my nemesis was watching a popper, twitching it every three or four seconds, along a line of lily pads. It was Wisconsin’s trout opener so instead of battling crowds on the small streams of the Driftless Area, we decided to hit a slough off of the Wisconsin River in search of anything that would bite.
In the late 1880s, a stone mason in Fort Collins, Colorado began building a home out of materials he had salvaged from the decommissioned county jail. After its completion in 1889, this structure would go on to house several mayors, serve as a hospital, and enter the national register of historic places before becoming a fly shop. The shop’s founder had a brother who was a Trappist monk so he named the shop after St. Peter, the great fisherman and disciple of Jesus. Since 1992, St. Peter’s Fly Shop has been servicing, outfitting, and educating Colorado’s Front Range.
On the morning of June 25th, my friend and guide Luke Annear swung by in his truck with his Towee in tow. When Luke isn’t pursuing his third post-graduate degree from the University of Wisconsin–Madison, you can usually find him chasing carp on the rivers of southern Wisconsin. Luke’s guide service, Freshwater Flats, specializes in site fishing opportunities for carp. But that day, we were trying something a little bit different.
Scanning Sudan's legendary flats for triggerfish, permit, bones, barracuda, GTs and whatever else decides to show up.
Alex Gonsiewski is a flyfishing guide in Oregon, where he targets trout and summer steelhead on the Deschutes River, summer steelhead on the John Day, and winter steelhead on the North Oregon coast. Between rainbow runs, Alex hosts angling trips around the world. He’s taken clients to Mexico, Belize, Bolivia, Alaska, Christmas Island, and Puerto Rico.
In 2023, Alex and a group of clients flew to Sudan for nine days of fishing on the Red Sea’s Nubian Flats. Unfortunately, while Alex and company were on the water, the country fell into a vicious civil war that has since claimed the lives of 150,000 people and displaced more than thirteen million.
Amy and John Hazel, owners of Deschutes Angler Fly Shop in Maupin, Oregon, are committed to consistency. “I’ve never had anybody fish a single-handed rod, and we’ve never had anyone nymph fish for steelhead,” says Amy. “It’s always been swinging, it’s always been a floating line, and it’s always been small surface-flies that are no deeper than a couple inches.” For more than twenty-five years the couple has guided the Deschutes the way they wanted to, mainly because they feel it’s the most effective way to target the river’s summer-run steelhead.
The essay Cold & Clear by John Larison originally appeared in the Winter 2016 issue of The Drake Magazine and to this day, it is one of best stories about steelheading we’ve ever run. On this episode of The DrakeCast we bring you the author reading his story followed by an interview with Larison from 2019.
“This summer I had a single task: spread my mother’s ashes somewhere in Alaska. In May I set out, two black Labs in tow, with the idea of finding the ideal resting spot. I drove the 3,000 miles of the Al-Can Highway, my mom’s ashes bumping along somewhere among the camping gear, bags of dog…
This episode of the DrakeCast takes a deep dive into the seedy underworld of a fishy religion in the Ozarks. Think Deliverance but with john boats instead of canoes. And at the center of this aquatic orthodox are two deities: the almighty streamer and the holy brown trout. But these aren’t your typical streamers or browns.…
Every year for the past decade the proposed Pebble Mine in Bristol Bay seems to die, only to rise again from its still-warm ashes. Despite lawsuits, a rigorous permitting process, and continued opposition by local organizations, Sam Snyder, campaign manager for the Wild Salmon Center, says the mega-mine isn’t just hanging on, it’s gaining momentum.…
Smallmouth: Modern Fly-fishing Methods, Tactics & Techniques Tim Landwehr & Dave Karczynski $29.95 Stackpole Books Most of the how-to flyfishing books at your local library come from accomplished anglers that aren’t very good at writing. This book isn’t one of them. Lifelong smallmouth guide Tim Landwehr of Tight Lines Fly Fishing Company in DePere, Wisconsin,…
Google Maps had led me astray. I had typed in “flyshop” but found myself in a strip mall parking lot. Before I could reroute myself I caught a glimpse of a 1976 Ford Custom Ranger truck covered in trouty spots. Maybe I was in the right place. Sure enough, a hand-painted sign informed me that…
One night during my sophomore year of college, a drunk Swedish exchange student sunk into my couch and began telling tales of the old country. Midsommar’s Eve is a special event in June, Henrick said, when all able-bodied citizens eat and drink till they can’t. He reminisced about his first Midsommar’s kiss, first Midsommar’s beer,…
I’m comforted by the similarities between most fly shops. Sure, the rod rack might be in a different corner and each shop will have a couple local patterns, but that same “how ya doin?” coming from behind every counter reminds me of the common flyfishing culture we share across the country. However, every once in awhile…
“ARE YOU SURE that car’s gonna make it?” the gas station employee asked, without knowing our destination. Clyde was the only one who knew the answer. Instinct and lack of mechanical competence told me to trust him.
Though separated by several hundred miles, the Ozark Mountains and Appalachia share a certain colloquial charm. Small wooden cabins with prison bars in the windows advertise cheap guns, rundown gas stations converted into liquor stores promise a sale on Sundays, and friendly folks serve barbecue on styrofoam plates. Additionally, each mountain chain sports an under-appreciated…
Last we left you, Clyde was crashing shoddy motel rooms, pounding Coors Light silos, and scarfing large Hawaiians from Pizza Hut—clearly reveling in Peach State culture—as he meandered through Georgia’s Blue Ridge mountains. Where’ll Clyde curb-check next? Here, the Southern Revival Tour rolls on.
Clyde may be of industrial-strength Detroit stock. But his love of nuclear northern winters is only lukewarm. Road salt gives him an itchy undercarriage rash. And all that ice fishing ain’t all that, unless it involves Great Lakes-size servings of Fireball. So having spent most of his winter vacay lurking in the Wisconsin Northwoods, it…
Anglers All has good energy. Natural light shines from the two-story windows. Railroad Earth and a snoring dog provide the soundtrack. Employees greet customers with a firm handshake and a “What can we do for ya?”
Google Maps took me deep into suburban Denver, where I wound up in front of a nondescript two-story house. I parked and rechecked the address. I walked up to the front door and knocked. A man appeared. We shook hands. Then he opened his garage to reveal 400,000 flies in a dozen trays. Apparently this was…
