Departments
I didn’t really think about potential ramifications until I saw a guy from Nevada driving by in my F-150 pickup.
Photographer: Patrick Clayton/Engbretson Underwater Photography
jWhether it is the short road to the local creek or the long road across borders, one thing almost no fly angler forgets to do is pack and/or stop for food. A quick stop for coffee and donuts, then you hit the water. For lunch, you have a sandwich, maybe two. You include chips, some cookies or a candy bar, and a soft drink too.
j Want to swing flies on Russia’s Kola Peninsula for Atlantic salmon? Or maybe you’re looking to hit the Bahamas, and are willing to forego numbers for a shot at an honest double-digit fish? In 2014, booking such adventures is as easy as a few taps on your tablet.
This innovative and small crawdad is a bass-sticker in Arizona and beyond.
- Photography by: Emily Lilienthal
Four hundred miles of fly-fishing-only water for peacock bass.
p>Painter
Jeff Kennedy
Skills in many media
Bristol Bay River Academy
An Alaskan fishing academy could be a model for all angling communities.
Wide and Deep
Tales and Recollections from a Maine Master Fishing Guide
By Randy Spencer
2014; Skyhorse Publishing
272 pgs; hardcover; $29.95
IF YOU THOUGHT THE PROPOSED Pebble Mine in the Bristol Bay area was the most rash and reckless development scheme ever to threaten Alaska’s fish and wildlife, you’d have been wrong.
Thirty-seven volcanoes rise from the Guatemalan landscape. During an average three days of angling out of Guatemala’s Casa Vieja lodge, in Puerto San José, a guest might expect to raise twice that number of sailfish. To be clear, the fishing isn’t always that good; sometimes it’s better. Much better.
The pr people had a tough task ahead of them. Their bosses—an international multi-billion-dollar syndicate, headed up by a Canadian mining company called Northern Dynasty Minerals—wanted to start digging on a new project.
I’m not into numbers as a way to describe the quality of a fishing trip. If I were, half my life has been wasted on Pacific Northwest steelhead, where a tally of one a day, especially during the cold and rainy winter season, is about as good as anyone can hope for.
Bill and I go back further than either of us would like to admit. Our acquaintance began in the mid-1980s. He has a fishing lodge in northern Ontario; it’s a great place to catch giant northern pike on a fly rod, and then pick up a few walleyes for shore lunch every day. I love Bill’s place.
Fishing in winter conditions, you need the right gear to give yourself a snowball’s chance.
I went fishing a few days after my mother died, and not long before her funeral. This was after I asked my sister if she needed me for anything and she told me, no, everything was being taken care of. The subtext here is that I’m not the one in the family anyone would trust with such important arrangements.
- Illustrations by: Bob White
