Humor
I pour a little rum in my cider and get typing. At present, I am coupled with winter, 400 square feet of cabin, a half-empty bottle of rum, and memories of my rookie year of guiding in Yellowstone Park. The only sound breaking the tap-tap of the ‘writer is the occasional gust of wind dusting…
Here’s how you float the Yellowstone: With a good friend, it’s impossible to make a mistake. It’s also impossible not to. Every oar splash and drift through a seam is cause for good-natured accusation and graceful riposte (“You’re the shithead.” / “Hey, fuck you.”) Waiting your turn at the put-in, sizing up the other fishermen.…
“There was no evidence to show they’d been around. There were no boats, no wreckage. There was nothing.” – Henry Bain. Andros Island, Bahamas Image:Chip Bates On the morning of August 5, 1995, Stanley Bain stood in front of his Cargill Creek Lodge and surveyed the small flyfishing empire that he’d built. The resort sat…
Excerpt from the new Fall 2007 Issue How did I get here? I’m lying on my back in a sticky, soaking, sagging, zero-degree, goose-down mummy bag, shivering like a dog shitting a peach pit. The canvas ceiling above our heads has reached total saturation while the frame creaks and sways through 40mph winds. The canvas…
What to do when a fish morphs from gills and guts into something larger – a memory that splashes across three generations of anglers, alternating between dream and reality? Born to my grandfather, this fish swam through my father Charles and landed with me. Even before I hooked her one cool April morning on Georgia’s…
“A brook trout wouldn’t last five minutes in this water,” I say to Haroldo as he leans over the gunwale and washes the slime off his knife. “Never mind the water temperature he’d be dead before he ever felt the heat.” Haroldo looked up, smiled, and nodded like he understood. “You believe in natural selection?”…
Ephemerella grandis is, like the rest of us, a sex fiend. From the moment he sheds his heavy, heinous body of youth, his thoughts are dominated by mayfly fornication-drake nookie, if you will. He can’t sleep. He can’t eat. He can do nothing but flutter about on the breezes of desire, looking above the river…
Flyfishing is a sexy sport. This I know because I’m in awe of good fishermen, which has left me attracted to grubby guys I normally wouldn’t have noticed except maybe to offer them change. I’m not too experienced a flyfisher and I’m a terrible flirt, yet when it comes to mixing the two together I…
One is a ridiculed fish.One is a ridiculed haircut.We explain the difference.
When booking the trip, inform your guide that you are prone to epileptic seizures, get kidney dialysis twice a week, and are recoverÂing from surgery on both your knees. You can’t walk very far or stay confined in small spaces for more than a couple of hours, but would like to get on uncrowded waters…
Fly shop guy is staunchly heterosexual, twentyÂsomething, and uncertain of his politics. Fly shop guy spent six or seven years at a southern university and is named Justin, Jeremy, Jonathan, Gifford, Trevor, Tripp or Tristan. Fly shop guy will say things across the river when fishing is poor like, “Holy shit, dude, even the choice…
See them coming, swimming toward you like ducks across the sky at dawn. It’s hard for a Northern Rockies trout chaser to fathom: no hatch to match, no current seam to aim for, just you and a couple dozen bonefish headed your direction. Throw it too late and you’ll spook ’em. Too early and your…
Sitting up in the pilot house, we could see with our own eyes that a serious storm was coming. The Weatherfax hadn’t shown a good picture of it the day before, but you could see it on the radar, streaming through above Cuba, across Grand Bahama, and now it was on top of us. Chris…
The game, it seems, is to see who can use the smallest boat to catch the biggest fish. And Adam Kimmerly is getting good at it. Kimmerly discovered sit-on-top kayak fishing a little more than a year ago, not long after moving to San Diego. Now it’s his passion.