Early summer mornings or the frosty dawn in fall signals an insatiable urge in many fly fishermen to awaken. Steelhead instinctively migrate to the river of their birth. These mythical fish bring dreams, hopes, and confusion with them as they … Read More
Macks Canyon is literally at the end of the road. It is also the place where I typically started my steelhead seasons on The Deschutes. The road to the campground was a tire eater consisting of dust and the sharpest … Read More
The Freemasons have nothing on many fly fishermen when it comes to ritual and secrecy. The 17th level Grand Royal Poobah Caddis Caster tends to wear this self-anointed title with a customary frown and a fiery glow of standoffish contempt … Read More
Friendship and fly fishing for steelhead when combined are the gravel on a path that leads most anglers to special moments in life, on and off the water. Lifetime relationships are born from long, late night sessions over the vise … Read More
“Steelhead” is a word of almost mystic significance to fly fishermen. These special fish have held sway over the majority of my life, excluding my years chasing a diploma far away from my home waters. Now, even after all the … Read More
A few years ago on a colorful late fall afternoon on the Clearwater River in Idaho, I had a choice presented me that I think that we are all faced with at one time or another as anglers. I was … Read More
