I fished alone today. I drove about an hour out of Bozeman, seeking silence and fishing. As I went along the Gallatin River, famed for its beauty and fish, I sought out the upper reaches that were far away from the madding crowd of the newly burgeoning metropolis of...
At 5:30 AM, in the predawn light of the morning, I slipped out of bed, leaving my wife Kathy sleeping, turned the coffee pot on, and then climbed the stairs to the bedrooms where my adult daughters were sleeping. I knock first on their doors, then I insert my head...
Bonefish will be my ruination. The challenge of such fishing, in seeing, stalking, casting to them in brisk winds, and then judiciously strip-setting the hookup is indelibly etched into my psyche. After the scorching runs of these fish on a coral rubble flat behind a...
