To my brother Michael; who once said, “Rick. Learn to fly fish. It is something we can do together.” It is a clear and calm, mid-August day. The tide is low, and the wind blows from the southwest. The brothers Michael and Ricky decide to pack-up the Pilar II and hunt for striped bass. The …...

“They flowed around me barely three feet off the water, and for a few mystical moments I found I was actually in the middle of their formation.” A WELL-MEANING FRIEND once asked about the most perfect meal I ever had, and I thought for a moment and then responded, “Anything my Mom ever cooked.” That’s about …...

It is dark and cold. Ricky slides from under the covers, into Phil’s guest bath to clean-up, then wanders into the cabin’s living space. The dress will be longs and longs, heavy sweater and waterproof jacket, waders, and boots. Phil is awake. The lights are on. The cast iron stove is crackling with burning larch wood …...

While chasing Spanish mackerel on the Chesapeake Bay off Kent Island, Maryland last fall, my guide, Captain Zack Hoisington, in a quiet moment from his perch in the half tower asked me if I had ever fished for chain pickerel on the fly? While scanning the horizon for nervous water from the foredeck below, I …...

If you have ever lived with another person for any length of time, you come to a point in the relationship where you can easily sense their mood. After fishing for redfish for over 40 years I’ve learned they also have moods. They can’t give you a come hither, or a look that could kill …...

It goes without saying that 2020 was a terrible year on so many levels. Between the national health crisis and numerous natural disasters plaguing large swathes of the country from coast to coast, it was difficult to remain upbeat. Dealing with the angst of canceling three planned fishing trips during the year in no way …...

The first time I fished at Fern Valley on the Soque River, the feeling reminded me of Christmas. The fish were larger and more numerous than on other waters, palomino trout were scattered through the pools like ornaments, and we had the stream to ourselves. For me, it felt as fine as anything I could …...

It was early morning of the fifth day, the air was still, no chittering of birds at sunrise, and at the same time the atmosphere seemed to be filled with something. It felt like tension. The light was different too, seemingly devoid of vibrancy, of life – there were no edges to things, it was …...

I am a husband, a dad, and I work full-time. I also like to fish. But like most men who wear the same hats, I wonder how I might fish more often and more effectively. What usually happens is we wake up early, maybe have a couple cups of coffee, then make our way to …...

In our era, few people have written as brilliantly about the art and sport of fishing as Thomas McGuane. Whether in generation-defining fiction such as The Sporting Club (1968) and Ninety-two in the Shade (1973), or in non-fiction essays, including Live Water (1996), his Forewords to Nick Lyons’ Full Creel (2000), Mike Lawson’s...