“What is the little white stuff on it’s back?” “It is supposed to imitate a wing case or something.” “It looks like it has a starched collar. Are the fish going to go for that?” The fly shop owner peered over his newspaper at the two young men picking through the fly bins. The less-than-entomological …
If you want to guarantee that you’ll get rained on, forget your tent’s rainfly. I believe in providence; not luck or coincidence or karma or Murphy’s law. The handful of times I have neglected to ensure that I’m completely protected from precipitation are, in fact, the nights when the heavens have opened up. Waking up …
I was 14 years old the first time I went fly fishing. This means that I’ve been fly fishing for well over half my life. Also, fly fishing has been something that has been part of my life more, from a cumulative perspective, than I lived with my parents, that I’ve known my wife, or …
It probably isn’t normal for a teenage fly fisher to consider streams two hours away as his home waters. Yet living in Northern Virginia, I grew up fishing and dreaming of fishing on the cold, trout-filled waters of South Central Pennsylvania. The Yellow Breeches, Big Spring, and The Letort were where I fished. There were …
For years I maintained that ice fishing was on the extreme end of a spectrum, the polar opposite of fly fishing. You fish up and down. You carry what you need on a sled. You don’t need to attempt stealth. You can eat a sandwich while fishing. Ice fishing is a lot of fun, and …
He said he owned a stream. A stream with big trout in it. His plan was to charge a daily rod fee for the opportunity to fish in his stream with big trout in it. That was why he was in the fly shop. To see if we would advertise his stream and the trout. …
I don’t scare easily. But it was remote and dark. Really dark. Now, if I focused I could hear the highway. That brought a little bit of solace. Then I thought about it. Being in close proximity to cars whizzing by at 80 miles per hour doesn’t add any security. They were whizzing by at …
The first half of this story can be read here on Casting Across. Immediately, the ascent was treacherous. I plodded up the loose forest floor in my wading boots, every step strengthening my resolve to get to the top while simultaneously increasing the force with which I asked myself “why?” Mind you, this was a …
Thought number one: “Well, that’s where the trout were the whole time.” Thought number two: “I’m pretty sure I’m going to fall to my death.” Looking back, all these years later, the latter is clearer. In my mind’s eye, I can see the pool. I can see the fish. I can see where I was …
A year and a half ago I came face to face with the possibility of living very, very close to wild trout. While out on a run, getting a little lost, a glimpse of a fish in a stream captivated me. I knew the water was cool and clean. The species of the fish was …
