Category: Fish Story

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Running from ‘rona in Argentina

If it’s the last trip I ever go on, then I have no regrets.

About three months ago, my wife and I flew to Argentina for my brother’s wedding in Buenos Aires and a little R&R in northern Patagonia. The economy was churning, coronavirus was a distant problem in China, and the world was full of hope. Now, the world is a much darker place, each day bringing more death, lost jobs, and human isolation. It’s hard to write about what an amazing experience I had when so many are suffering today, both from the virus itself, and the economic hardship the virus has unleashed. Not only are we in the midst of a novel viral outbreak, we’re also conducting an experiment in social isolation on a scale our species has never seen. This writeup won’t solve any respiratory ailment or bring back a lost job, but perhaps it will feed someone’s lonely soul. It strays far and wide from fly fishing, encapsulating the full range of human bonding I experienced in this beautiful country. I never appreciated how tenuous and fleeting that experience could be, now that we are into our third month of social distancing. It is a reminder of the way the world was, and how it can be again, once we pull together and make it through this pandemic.

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The Three Faces of Fall – Part II


The kaleidoscope of colors on a speckled trout dazzle in the morning sun.

Fall’s second face is its prettiest face. Another cold front triggers the leaves to change. The marsh grass begins to take on a golden hue, drowning out the subtle green undertones, reminding us of the fading warm weather. Ospreys are leaving, replaced by cormorants and ducks. The water can be nippy, especially on a cool morning, and on a mid-October trip to my favorite spot, I wore my Gore-Tex trout waders. I was late for the sunrise, and as I hustled down the beach, a rough seam rubbed my ankle raw. Upon arriving, I discovered that my waders leaked, and my wound was treated with a dousing of salt water. Numerous fish breaking the surface quickly erased any angst I had about the long walk back in my soggy waders.

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Three Faces of Fall – Part 1

The Chesapeake Bay offers an astounding variety of fish to chase throughout the year. My favorite part of the calendar has to be fall, which brings some incredible shallow water fishing to Virginia. Summer can feel like the movie Groundhog Day; the same heat and humidity drag on with little change. By contrast, fall moves rapidly, offering a fleeting chance at some of the year’s best fly fishing opportunities. I feel that the season shows us three distinct faces as it whisks us from summer into winter. Each face is a season-within-a-season, offering its own unique brand of fishing opportunities and environmental conditions. The color of the marsh grass, the leaves on the trees, and the birds hovering around are good indicators for what bounty swirls beneath the surface.

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Passing The Test

The only thing that could have made this day more perfect is if the Queen, Paul McCartney, and Hugh Grant had been there to cheer me on.

I noticed the fish on each pass I made up and down the beat. How could you not? The dark torpedo shaped leviathan had claimed a small eddy on the far bank of the stream, well shaded and protected by overhanging limbs, a perfect ambush spot for the bug buffet that swept by in the current. On each pass, I’d sent over an unacceptable offering – first a hopper, then a damselfly, followed by a beetle, and finally a caddis. The afternoon shadows were lengthening, and my time here was coming to a fishless end. I tied on a gaudy daddy long legs, and slung a perfect delivery just upstream of the eddy. A stirring! The fly drifted into the beast’s cone of vision, and he began a casual glide towards the surface, characteristic of a curious fish. But would he take it?

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Wild Wild West Part 3

This part three of a serialized account of a trip my wife and I took to Colorado & Wyoming earlier this summer.  I will release subsequent editions over the next few weeks.  Some names and places have been changed. Part one Part two

7 AM Monday – I woke fresh in the morning, ready to find a service station in CumminsTurbodiesel, Wyoming that would work on this millennial urbanite Euro THUD SCRRTCHH rental car. Surely a handlebar mustachioed mechanic with a six shooter on his hip would zip-tie our bus car back together, if only we fork over our life savings.

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Wild Wild West, Part 2

Image result for furthur bus
from www.goingfurthur.com

This part two of a serialized account of a trip my wife and I took to Colorado & Wyoming earlier this summer.  I will release subsequent editions over the next few weeks.  Some names and places have been changed.  Part One

12 PM Sunday – Leaving Colorado behind, Colleen and I planned on making a brief stopover Sunday night at the Bison Hoof Hotel in Dubois, Wyoming.  An early departure the following morning would put us into Jackson by 9 or 10 on Monday.   Continue reading “Wild Wild West, Part 2”

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Wild Wild West, Part 1

This part one of a serialized account of a trip my wife and I took to Colorado & Wyoming earlier this summer.  I will release subsequent editions over the next few weeks. Part Two

Back in late June, Colleen and I flew to Colorado for a good friend’s wedding.  My friend is a fly-fishermen, and his bride is an avid hiker, and they made the brilliant choice to get married in Fraser, Colorado, 90 minutes west of Denver at the Devils Thumb Ranch.  Being that it was near to the 4th of July, we decided to make a road trip out of it and continue onto Jackson Hole, Wyoming for the holiday. Continue reading “Wild Wild West, Part 1”

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Shad and brown trout on a nice April weekend

I was lazy with the camera yesterday and didn’t take any photos. Here’s a shad from the south side of Mayo Island last year.

I hitched up the skiff and headed west to Richmond yesterday to get out on the James with two old high school buddies.  We launched at Ancarrows around 1PM and headed up just below the 95 bridge.  I was late in arriving to the ramp, and they had already scouted a spot along the bank where plenty of shad were jumping.  The river was high and muddy from a torrential storm last Sunday evening, and we knew we would have to work for the fish in the low visibility.  Continue reading “Shad and brown trout on a nice April weekend”

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Starting off the New Year right!

First bonefish!

Unlike partygoers and thrill seekers across the world, I spent the final hours of 2017 withering in pain in my bed in an old British loyalist cottage on Harbour Island in the Bahamas. My right elbow was severely inflamed, immobilized with an ace bandage, and a feverish  ache was beginning to spread to the rest of my body. The overtly pessimistic black hole of medical self-diagnosis, WebMD, told me the affliction was olecranon bursitis, where small fluid sacs that enable smooth movement of the elbow joint become inflamed and infected. A visit to the island’s health clinic produced a cocktail of steroids, antibiotics, and painkillers, but I was convinced my rod would gather dust for the week while my casting elbow recovered and the rest of my family chased bonefish. Continue reading “Starting off the New Year right!”