Examining what happens when water resources disappear, such as on the Big Lost River in Idaho.
Fly fishing Idaho’s Big Lost River is a great spring trip.
There is a creek I know, unremarkable to most. Looking at it you wouldn’t think much of it: willows, dogwood, river birch, aspen and a single fir clutch its banks. It meanders through sagebrush sprinkled meadows where free ranging cows occasionally flatten the vegetation and punctuate the air with a pungent smell. Above the meadow [...]
Anglers make good authors because they are natural storytellers, especially catch and release anglers—when they walk away from the river, the only thing they take away is a story. But there is an even stronger link between the two: anglers and authors are both natural deceivers and manipulators.
I’m no poet, although I’d love to be. As always, feel free to comment—I can take the heat. Last Hole Was this the hole, where limestone walls shoulder the margin between earth and sky? He bends into the current, casts about forgotten water thickened by rains. Forgotten waters, patterns, faces— even the name of this [...]
“Hey, Dad, check it out!” Ben says, pointing to something along the edge of the river. A green cloth, partially in the water, caked with mud. Looking a little closer I see it is green flannel. I reach down and pull it out. A flannel shirt, intact. I rinse it in the river and set [...]
This post was prompted by my reading the book, The Next Valley Over: An Angler’s Progress, by Charles Gaines (a complete review of that book is here, which isn’t flattering to the author because he frequently comes across to me as bragging). As I contemplated Gaines’ motives for writing that book, it caused me to [...]
Part 2 of more than 3. Part 1 is found here. It’s not mandatory to read, but it might give a little background. This is going to be “Talk Me Down” time. I plan on presenting different reasons why we should allow the extinction of cutthroat. I want you to talk me down (or agree, [...]
“This is not your father’s Oldsmobile.” Remember that little slogan? GM rolled that out a couple of decades ago. It was meant to bring in a younger demographic-younger, brasher, self-aggrandizing twenty-somethings. Sporty vehicles to help stoke the speed and stroke vanity of the newest “Me-Generation.” This is the same generation that gave us the X-Games [...]
“A good omen,” John (our personal Calchas) says as the three of us watch the Bald Eagle skying the thermals. The low mountain range to the west flashes orange and red in the early light.
I grope toward the bed in the half dark as my eyes adjust to the diffuse light of the rising Harvest Moon glancing through the five bedroom windows. I strip off my clothes and pause for a moment to shiver in the bracing breeze streaming through the windows knowing that warmth is a step away. [...]
Yesterday was the opening day of the blue grouse hunt. There were eleven of us gas-filled happy grouse seekers: two non-hunting children (Wyatt and Cole), three hunting children (my son Ben, Trevor and Brooks) and six adults who often act as children (John, Richard, Scott, Danny, Justin and Brady). This is an annual trek that [...]
My return to the Portneuf River (my first encounter is chronicled here) made a big splash on the locals. Actually, I think my splash missed Kevin, but it made a pretty big impact on him—he laughed his butt off for at least five minutes! Coach Kevin C (of Coach’s Caribou County Fly Fishing Journal [new [...]
We have returned from our little fishing foray (and I survived the motorcycle expedition – more on that in the next post). If you read the route and map from the last post, you would know that we planned on fishing in Idaho on the upper Blackfoot River and some areas around it on day [...]
I’m no MacGyver, much more along the lines of Red Green…