So far, 2019 has been a poor dry-fly season for me. In part due to the cold and wet spring, none of the reliable early season hatches materialized. Alder flies were also a complete bust on the Andro. By the time dry fly action picked up, I fished almost exclusively for wild brookies. So, when
There are rivers that live in the common mythos of fly fishing: the San Juan, the Battenkill, the Yellowstone. There also are our local rivers and spots that we hold dear and keep a bit more secret than we probably should. Then, there are those waters that could fit in both categories. Colorado has more
I’ve been looking for new water. I am targeting quality over quantity. If possible, I want to ping only wild fish. To that end, as I journeyed to the Salmon River, I stopped quite a bit, visiting en route about 12 spots. If one looked fishy, I fished it. If it didn’t, I moved on.
It was the fall of 2017, and I was in northern Labrador, waist deep in the McKenzie River. My sloping shoulders portrayed the characteristic posture of a frustrated angler tying on another fly. The river felt cold flowing around my thighs while my flies remained untouched. My angling skills appeared to be no match for