The “Just for a Few Hours” Invitational

December 22, 2004

on a fly-fishing bulletin board i post on once in a while, someone started a thread mocking the idea of fly-fishing tournaments. tournaments may be well and good for for bass fishing, but most trout fishermen i know would have nothing to do with organized competition. anyway, this is my suggestion for an event.
The “Just [...]

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why i want to move out west

December 9, 2004

i’ve been reading robert traver lately. he was a very well-respected trout fishing author from the u.p. people have described his writing as “comfortable, like an old shoe.” sort of a patriarch, with a good sense of humor and an affection for bourbon. good stuff. he wrote the testament of a fisherman, a piece of [...]

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you gotta have ambition!

December 7, 2004

i haven’t written about fishing for a while. it’s not that i haven’t been thinking or reading about it, but it’s just not exactly the time of year to devote too much to it…
but, gradually, goals for my next trout season are formulating. it’s not like i sit down and think of what i want [...]

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i like the library

November 30, 2004

this quote by robert traver is well-known, but i just stumbled across it last night as i began a great compilation of his (traver on fishing, edited by nick lyons) i picked up at the library. the coolest thing about it might be that as i continued to read the collection, i stumbled across various [...]

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the other night i dreamt i caught a brookie

November 24, 2004

i’m always revising what i write. and with my story “every cast the opportunity for perfection,” i’ve been meticulously going over it for about the twentieth time. there’s many reasons, some which i’ll keep to myself, but mostly it’s because i can’t wait until next season when i intend to keep a detailed fishing journal.
I [...]

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I sit on a mid-stream rock, my head in my hands, dazed and exhausted.

November 23, 2004

On our last night in Russia, Swenson and I decide to fish after dinner, in the haunting gray gloaming of the late Arctic summer, and we hike a few miles upstream, then hopscotch our way down, fishing each pool with intensity. At midnight, I stop at Peter’s Pocket, a small pool boxed in a canyon [...]

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