There is a lady I know that will sit in the boat with her husband for hours on end and read or suntan. He always buys the combo platter resident fishing license just in case you know what freezes over and she might want to fish...

Over to his library he plucked a book. With a shaky hand he autographed a fly-tying book to me. What he wrote shouldn’t be read by the faint of heart. I watched him write it. Then he handed it to me, I read it then, so many years ago. I read it again last night...

After sixty seven straight days of fishing you can get tired. I don’t get tired of fishing, just tired. You fish so much you wear the skin off your index finger unhooking walleyes. The boat is still rocking and you have been in bed for twenty minutes. Close your eyes and the bobber is still floating there...

My son, Tony, and I went up to the UP on the land we deer hunt on over the Memorial Day Holiday weekend. We were on a mission to get a turkey and right out of the gate on Saturday morning we...

Out of the cubicle that is. The other day as I explained to my wife, Mara, the virtues of living a life that did not involve the cubicle mentality, she stopped me in mid sentence and said...

You know the folks that jog; I’m not one of them. Or one of those people who mountain bike. I’m not into impact aerobics. Pounding feet or pounding down the hill and vale will take something out of me and it must for those folks as well. We all have our own way of getting it out, hopefully to getting it back...

The flag is telling me the wind is out of the west. That’s good for fishing, but bad for me. I like the tougher conditions. If I come home without fish I have one less excuse. Wrong wind I’d say, it threw the bite off, and it’s a classic. I press my cap on tight...

This black ribbon rivulet is hard to get to. It is a tough place to fish. Overhung branches make casting impossible. There may be dry fly purists but this is a creek their not invited too. Vegetation so thick you cannot take a stride without tangling in something. Every step better be measured or you’ll be fitted for a primordial casket...

In the fishing world there is a company that produces stick baits. Internationally famous so I will skip mentioning their name and mine in the same sentence so as not to cast a dark shadow. They probably do not want my kudos as I killed one of their lures...

Half way from some where, and all the way to nowhere, Tony is lost. The shorelines materialize and just as fast disappear in the fog. Tony is the guy in the bow of my boat and has no idea were lost, but I’m going to have him aid me in my worrying pretty quick...