I stood for a moment atop the steps and looked down at the rows of lodges, outfitters, fly shops and other booths in the fly-fishing building at the International Sportsman's Expo in Sacramento.
Joe Paterno had barely hung up the phone when his wife of 50 years picked it up and redialed the number scrawled on the slip of paper.
Every so often there is a gun control measure put on the ballot for voters to consider. Most such measures are misguided efforts to reduce violent crime. The theory behind such restrictive gun measures seems to be based on the idea that if it's harder to obtain a gun, then violent crime rates will drop. Ironically, the exact opposite has been proven true time after time.
The season began with fans brawling in the stands, and a quarterback who didn't seem worth fighting for.
I could feel it deep down in my fisherman soul. Apparently it showed on my face too.
Recently there have been several news stories documenting the return of the Grey Wolf to California. So far it's only one wolf, wearing a tracking collar that has definitely been recorded appearing in Siskiyou County and then in Plumas County in Northern California.
After what seemed like the perfect swan song and the picturesque way to hang up his whistle, Bill Slikker tip-toed off into the sunset after a 14-0 Valley Oak League championship run as Weston Ranch head coach in 2008.
A lot of people I've been talking to are concerned about the lack of rain we've had so far this season.
I'm not a pessimist, but I did wonder what it meant when I turned on the heat in my truck and was almost overcome by the smell of cooked cat poop that apparently oozed into the treads of my hiking boots on the walk through my yard.
NEW ORLEANS - The moment was about as stilted as it could get, though Les Miles and Nick Saban certainly knew the routine. They posed stiffly for the photographers, smiles fixed on their faces and the BCS trophy between them, even though everyone in the room except the BCS bigwigs who crowded into the photo op knew they would both rather be somewhere - make that anywhere - else.
It's now 2012, and I'm sure many of us have made and probably already broken our New Year's resolutions.
It was fun in a way the NFL often isn't, a midseason diversion that sent fans into a frenzy in Denver and prompted people around the country to drop to a knee. Even if you didn't believe in Tim Tebow, it was hard to take your eyes off him as he found ways to win despite passes that fluttered about like balloons on a windy day.
The rainbow trout in the Stanislaus Rivers had no idea that Sunday was the first of a new year.
Just about this time every year I find myself in Arizona.
Well, are we all ready? Are we standing on top of a grassy hill, fishing rods, hunting rifles, mountain bikes, ab-rollers, recycling bins and piggy banks raised above our collective heads, calling out "Freedom" like William Wallace, ready to attack the new year like "warrior poets"?
I first became addicted to archeology in the summer of 1948. I was a youngster camping along the headwaters of the Mokelumne River with my parents. One morning I knelt down to clear away some rocks on the ground so that I could play marbles, when one of the rocks caught my eye. Upon closer examination, I discovered that my "rock" was really an Indian arrowhead made of shiny black obsidian! I was hooked on archeology from that point on. Collecting arrowheads became a family obsession. We eventually assembled a pretty significant collection of artifacts in our Indian Room.
Like a lot of those reading this, I used to take every fish home to be cooked up for dinner. After a while, I got tired of having to clean fish after a long day of fishing so I just threw them back. Once I started tournament fishing, I'd always throw them back in hopes of catching them again during a tournament.
We anglers are a fortunate bunch. We belong to a brotherhood and sisterhood of helpful gregarious souls who are almost always willing to chat with a stranger and share local fishing information. The past week, I've found myself out in Salt Lake City, accompanying my wife at a genealogy conference. Usually my trips to the Salt Lake area are in warmer weather without snow on the ground. On an ordinary trip, I'll end up fishing the either Provo River or the Green River for a couple days, but this trip I figured it would be too cold and ...
Fishing in the winter is tough.