Something’s not right with the Farmington’s water flows. But let me start first with some good news. With the spring semester over, I am back down to one job and decided last-minute to book an Airbnb for a few days and fish the Farmington. It was DYI food-wise each day: a simple breakfast, a simple
Author: Jo Tango
Guest Post: Walt Randall’s ‘First Strike’
I was fishing what we called the “Nursing Home Hole” of the Farmington River in New Boston in early spring of 1972. My father’s fishing buddy, Barbara, was with me as we worked this large, wide and deep spot in the river. I don’t recall where my Dad was…upstream? Working at Milhenders and thus not
Phở-get About It
I woke up early to hit the river and had high hopes. During the past few outings, I saw a few dozen trout each time. Newly-released wards of the state, no doubt, but it was fun to feel the rod bend. Could be angler error, but I haven’t seen any big, wild fish this winter.
Even though fellow blogger Ashu Rao has moved to Maryland, we stay in touch and give each other fishing reports. So, it was a real joy and privilege to be able to fish with him while he was up North for the holidays. Even better: fellow blogger Joel Watson and Ashu’s friend Carter Abramson also made