I arrived at the river before dawn and felt prepared with my gloves, latex gloves, handwarmers, and winter coat. I wasn’t. With the wind blowing and two dark snow squalls crossing my paths, I realized I should have worn my neoprene waders. But I slogged on, hitting what I thought were good winter lies with
Author: Jo Tango
Bodies
I think fly fishing is about a rolling series of obsessions. When I started, I very quickly got into throwing tiny dries on a #000 at the Swift. Then, it was about Euronymphing for wild Farmington browns. After that, I went through a wet-fly phase, and then I got into throwing big, articulated streamers. Thereafter,
Normalcy
I fished today after a three-month hiatus, and was it ever so sweet. As you may recall, I’ve been holding two jobs (I’m teaching again at a local business school), which has been both mentally and physically draining. The prospect of long drives to a cold river in winter for a fish or two at
Bob Christmann: ‘Memories’
I have kept many of my trips and outings detailed in logs over the years. This has served several purposes. I can refer to them to compare what conditions were then and are like now. I can compare the good years and not so good. (Can’t say there are any really bad ones). I can