As long as I can remember, I have had a fascination with maps, preferably old maps. In fact the older a map is, the more fascinating it becomes.
Getting stranded while on the water has to be one of my biggest fears, especially if I'm far away from a launch ramp.
When I make an online purchase to replenish leader, fly-tying materials or new fly line, I imagine rivers and forests. I'm happy.
Earlier in the week while I was getting my morning coffee at 7-Eleven, the cashier asked if I'd like to buy a Power Ball ticket.
I have a terrible time resisting fish.
Here it is in mid April and the opening day of trout season is right around the corner. You've probably read the news reports that this has been an especially dry winter. The water content of accumulated snowpack is about half of normal.
It's been over a year now and I'm still trying to catch my first fish on an Alabama Rig. I'm sure a lot of you know by now that the Alabama Rig has become one of the hottest new baits on the market. If you don't, an Internet search will surely clue you in to its potential.
The brand new dirt oval at the San Joaquin County Fairgrounds drew a packed house of 10,572 ecstatic race fans to the inaugural STP World of Outlaws event on March 23.
The easy part was getting rid of Mike Rice, something Rutgers had little choice in doing once the governor of New Jersey and the king of basketball weighed in on his videotaped transgressions.
One of the advantages of being unattached is the opportunity to set my own schedule. A side-effect is that I don't always plan really well, so Friday morning when I woke up and decided to go fishing, I ended up going north on highway 99 unsure of where I'd end up. The Lower Sacramento seemed logical, maybe the Upper, but I merged onto I-80 east and realized I was taking myself to the Truckee River. Cool.
Part of the beauty of being an outdoor enthusiast is observing and participating in the eternal cycles of nature. Recently I attended Easter Sunday church services with my son, son-in-law, daughter and grandkids. As I observed my grandkids participating in the celebration of The Risen Christ, it struck me that a generation ago it had been my children who were participating as small children and that a generation before that it had been me and my brother and sister learning the eternal story. In another generation it will be my great-grandkids learning about the conquest of death.
Sometimes no matter how a place may change over the years, the memories you have of it always seem to remain the same.
Once you've caught a huge rainbow trout, you've caught a huge rainbow trout.
LAS VEGAS (AP) - Lois Tarkanian answered the phone at the family home, offering a word of caution before handing it to her husband.
My first impression of the Delta was that as long as I stayed within sight of where I launched my boat I would be able to find my way back.
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.