Most people tend to turn their face toward Mecca, but in a blatant disregard of protocol, I turned a blind eye toward Mecca and rode on. Actually, truth be told, one eye was on Mecca and the other was on the road. OK, OK, sometimes both eyes were on Mecca and I was lucky to not crash and burn.
Catch and release, as well as fish pain, debated (not really, one-sided for the most part) at NY Times’ “Room for Debate.”
The latest media craze in fly fishing? “Fly Box” is a mixed media presentation in Racine, WI.
Cutthroat Stalker bypassed some mighty famous rivers of the west to get to what two locations? A little game to pass your time: Stalking the Stalker. Link to a map.
“Can I see your license?”
I handed Mr. Tan Polyester Pants my license.
“Are you awake? You seemed to be weaving all over,” he said as he glanced at my license and looked through the windows at the boxes lining the rear of the SUV and stacked on the folded-down half of the rear seat. He seemed to step back and notice the sag of the rear end of the vehicle and debating with himself what the relationship was between the sag and the boxes.
“Could you tell me what’s in these boxes?”
Day 2 of the Appalachian brook trout quest was the day I was most worried about in the planning stages. We were looking for the northern strain that day and we wanted to fish the Rapidan River to do it. The Rapidan has great historicity when it comes to fly fishing and it’s supposed to have a good population of brook trout. But most of what I read mentioned that accessibility might be an issue—3 to 4 miles of vigorous hiking just to get to the stretches with the fish, then the actual fishing mileage, followed by a 3 mile hike back to the vehicle, uphill. We were on a tight schedule, and that just wouldn’t do.
By popular demand (if you can call one request “popular”), here are some photos from my second trip to “Chalkstream” this past Wednesday and my first trip to “Bonneville Creek” this year.
The humiliating day of skunkage in King Kong sized proportions gives way to the Intermountain West’s finest “Chalkstream” containing some sizeable fish. This angler was there for an incredible day of biking, beauty and dry fly excitement during a prolific hatch.
The entire mix created a carnival-like atmosphere—the worst kind of traveling carnival that stalks America with the worldly pleasures only carnies can provide small towns. For Dan and I, this was the gateway to our worldly pleasure too: Salvelinus fontinalis, the brook trout. Specifically, the southern Appalachian strain.
Bad weather and no fishing makes me head south for some camping, warmer temps and beautiful scenery in Capitol Reef National Park.
I am pleased to announce a magazine that stimulates the heart and mind of the angler. Rise Forms: Fly fishing’s literary voice, seeks to publish work that conveys both the passion and contemplative nature of fly fishing through high quality, literary articles.
The winner of the free book, Do Fish Feel Pain, is Joe P. Congratulations Joe!
Would you like to win a new book that is hot off the press? I have one I’m giving away. Learn how to get your name in the drawing.
If you are in the least bit interested in native fish, the Paiute Cutthroat is an important species to help. The few remaining fish in their native range in the entire world are in just several miles of creek in the High Sierras of eastern California.
In case you’re worried, Cutthroat Stalker still fishes, there’s just a big project on the docket consuming his time.