Today is not a holiday. But tomorrow is. And like any red-blooded American, I’m working today before stocking up on meat, charcoal, and colorful imported explosives. No time for fly fishing writing. But, the Rusty Flybox is a channel for me to break out a few posts that didn’t get a lot of traction the …
The ultimate holiday of the year is nearly upon us. Children are waiting with anticipation. My refrigerator is over capacity. Magic is in the air (mingled with a smidge of stress). Yet even with all the enchantment of snow and reindeer and yuletide and whatnot, I’m unable give everyone a unique, personal present. However, I …
Fly fishing is an inherently contemplative activity. Although we frequently think about what we are doing, as the intricacies of pursuing fish demand such focus, there is ample time for our minds to wander. Personally, I believe that there are some things to ponder that are more valuable than others. That being said, there is …
Maybe if Christopher Columbus had been a fly fisherman, he would have been much more benevolent and less sleazy in disposition. Who knows, perhaps Europeans and indigenous peoples could have gotten off on a better foot if the tarpon, bonefish, and permit of Hispaniola were a source of camaraderie and mutual interest. Regardless of a …
Ah, Labor Day. A time to eat meat, stop wearing white, and generally avoid contemplating the checkered past of our country when it comes to industry. For fly fishers, it is the real and present reminder that fall is around the corner. So long, hot days. Adios, leaving the trout (mostly) alone. For fly fishing …
Fly fishers can appreciate the necessity of the darkness that comes before the light. It allows for rest. We can regroup, recalibrate, and renew ourselves for another day on the water. The night prevents fishing, but provides these important things. It allows for reflection. A bad day can be, to a certain extent, mitigated by …
