With all the fog that we've been having recently, I'm reminded of how important it is that we slow down on the water.
I was at a pretty good place mentally as I headed into a two-story building laced with the scent of preserved animals and musky hunters.
About 100 years ago, my Grandfather earned his living for several years as a professional flyfisher. He would fish the trout streams of Colorado with his flyrod, & sell the fish to the mining & logging camps. Since it was his livelihood, Grandpa's primary concern was catching as many large fish as possible, & he utilized numerous techniques to fill his fish sack. One of the most effective techniques Grandpa used was the dropper fly, which consistently produced more and larger fish. The dropper fly is still an amazingly effective technique today.
WESTON RANCH – There's hot, and then there's Eddie Andrade hot.
I obviously wasn't the only person excited about Friday night's marquee matchup between the Sierra and Weston Ranch boys basketball teams.
The first fishing advice I ever received was to be patient.
When I was 8, I put a filet of salmon in the microwave.
Last weekend I was as shocked as almost everyone else in the nation to learn of the shootings of Representative Gabrielle Giffords and 19 other people in Tucson, Arizona.
When up to your pelvis in a river, and the insert in your waders is bunched at the toe, its annoying. Not debilitating but something you will surely address next time you are on shore.
Now that Christmas is over I'm sure many of you have new fishing equipment that you're dying to try out.
I think I am over the New Years Eve thing.
The California Department of Fish and Game has released the results of their annual Fall Midwater Trawl of pelagic (open-water) species in the Delta.
Purely by coincidence, life-clarity has coincided with calendar change.
While updating my phone it crashed, and I lost all of my information.
My fishing buddy from this summer, Steve the cook, is up before the sun.
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.