A Wet World that Burns

Spending more time at home lately? Fancy yourself a writer? Could you use $2,500? Then consider entering a submission for the 2020 Robert Traver Fly Fishing Award, sponsored by the John D. Voelker Foundation and the American Museum of Fly Fishing (AMFF). Here is the link to the awards page: https://www.voelkerfoundation.com/traveraward/  and below is the winning submission from 2019—”A Wet World that Burns” by Jimmy Watts (photos by Carson Artac), which first appeared in the summer 2018 issue of The Drake

Small Mouth Bass

Small mouth Bass

A Hoosier Welcome

Dear prospective southern Indiana resident: You would hear the hum of the dirt track four miles from your house on Friday nights. The sound would somehow travel all that way through the absurd continental humidity. It would be eighty five degrees at ten p.m. You would sit on the porch and drink beer and suffocate.


Happy Father’s Day

We all gotta start somewhere… Of all the letters we receive at The Drake, none is more common than those written by sons or daughters or grandchildren, telling us how either their dad or grandfather introduced them to the sport. You know the image: Friendly-faced, white-haired grandpa standing ankle-high in a river, helping his grandson cast. You know the…


The Notorious PMD

Ain’t no dun like a pale morning dun, dog! Whadup, yo! Thought I’d drop in and give you a little lesson on His Paleness. I’m hatchin’ my ass off from now till Rocktober, so I’d suggest packin’ plenty of me into that gay chest pack of yours—‘specially out West. West is the best, beeyotch!


Introducing Satire

Re: Drake Management Restructuring We received reams of mail regarding the “Drake Management Restructuring” satire piece in the current issue. For the record, what you hold in your hands is NOT the last print edition of The Drake. The 17th issue, Spring/Summer 2010, will in fact be our largest print issue to date—a testament to…

releasing bonefish

Fiction: Catch

“It’s been a grand tournament so far – don’t you think?” asked the prideful chairman to the leather-tanned skiff guide approaching the trophy table. “Grand, perhaps, in the sense of fine weather,” the guide scoffed with a sidewise glance toward the competitors gathered on the dock. The chairman set down his Styrofoam cup with the…

Bugs on leg

Bugs: Desert Storm

–Mike Muri It’s an orgy that would have made caligula jealous. an unusually warm mid-may day filled with frenzied lovemaking, the participants’ bodies locked together coupling with a purpose, oblivious to all that surrounds them. Onlookers are left to gape in wonder as caddisflies in every shape, color, and size procreate with an intoxicating intensity.…