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
Category: Philosophy
Fly Fishing While Handicapped
Have you ever wondered, “How many more years will I be able to fly fish?” I’ve tried to avoid that question for a long time, hoping that if I didn’t think about it, I’d never have to deal with the inevitable effects of an aging body. I love reading about old geezers who are 20
Letter to My Unmarried Daughters
Dearest daughters, Please allow me to offer some fatherly advice about where to find a man with whom to share the rest of your life. Spoiler alert: this may involve the purchase of waders and a fly rod. As you well know, most of my input to you up until this point, in this regard,
Fishing the Gaps
Why in the world do we fish at the Farmington River where dozens of fishermen have just fished in the very same pools at which we are going to fish? Why do we fish the Swift where fishermen line up shoulder-to-shoulder to fish the Y Pool? The same can be said for many rivers in