Just about any canine not unreasonably afraid of its own shadow and who is judiciously exposed to water at a relatively young age can potentially become a fairly decent Trout Dog. IT’S A TERRIBLY DIFFICULT THING to find a good Trout Dog. A Trout Dog does not have to be of any particular breed or …...

Her body gently undulated in the thin, mirrored light of the Aurora as we rested there. IT’S A FAIRLY YOUNG RIVER as fair rivers go, born in the mountains of far western Alaska before making its raucous way down from the heights and out across the tundra on its broad braided ramble to the sea. …...

Good fathers understand their sons. And Burl Lear clearly understood little Carl. CARL LEAR LOVED his father’s fly rod. At eight years old, he couldn’t remember a time when that rod had not been a part of his life, as it would continue to be until the day he died. It was a deep golden …...

At nine years old and alone without my Dad, I was scarcely prepared to confront the wily old trout poacher all on my own. Or was I? — • — FRIDAY AFTERNOON, the 17th day of April, 1959. And trout season was due to open at dawn the following morning. I had turned in my …...

“To this day I am not certain where he came from, and for the briefest moment he startled me.” IT DOESN’T MUCH MATTER where I have been or where I am going; I still can’t quite decide which is the better part of a fly fishing day, the Going In or the Coming Out. It …...

The rich hues of its dark-flamed, six-sided surface were warm and deep, its workmanship superb. “MIKE, DID YOU ORDER a bamboo fly rod?” Mary Jane’s unexpected question was steeped in curiosity as she strolled into the room carrying a long triangular box. “Uh, what?” I responded, completely confused as she handed me the newly...

IT’S KNOWN AS “The Old Mill Hole.” Or at least it used to be, back when Doe Creek was brimming with legend and some of its classic runs had names all their own. It had become famous for its winter runs of giant, lake-fed rainbow trout that began showing up in the little stream four …...

I had worn that old hat from Alaska to the Florida Keys. But I could not bring myself to wear it back to its original home in New Mexico. CHRISTMAS MORNING. And the high country was covered with ten inches of fresh snow that had fallen during the night. The road across Sam’s Gap was …...

SHE SEETHED LIKE A TRAPPED WOLF, constrained by the cold hard steel that held her. But she could still move, and she moved quite well, thank you, now leaping as she had first leapt when she’d felt the hook bite into the white leathery tissue in the roof of her tooth-strewn mouth. But for the …...

Speaking of contraries, see how the brook In that white wave runs counter to itself. It is from that in water we were from Long, long before we were from any creature. Here we, in our impatience of the steps, Get back to the beginning of beginnings . . . — From “WEST RUNNING BROOK” …...