Rolling over from my plywood perch on the top bunk, I peer down to see all three of my cabinmates asleep. So I rule them out. Slipping the headlamp from beneath my pillow and turning on the light reveals not one but two Alaska-sized mice sitting on top of a cooler, munching saltines. I stare…
IT STARTS AROUND THE SAME TIME every year, in late June or early July. And on a day that you should be fishing, you’re instead making furtive mouse clicks and talking in hushed tones with your buddies, always reminding yourselves that it’s still too early to say anything definitive. Then, as trout fishing ebbs into…
I’M NOT MUCH A HORSEPOWER GUY—I don’t lust after motorcycles or muscle cars—but I am a sucker for a skiff on plane. Back from the ramp, turn toward the fish, and lean into the throttle. Wind in the face never gets old. Just yesterday, I ran several miles up a narrow tidal channel here in…