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
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
With one of my two jobs temporarily done until January, I looked at the calendar and realized that I could squeeze in a fishing trip. In the winter, there’s really one fish I want to see: steelhead! It had been a few years since I last was up in Pulaski, NY. It’s a very friendly