Fly Tying? You want me to tie a fly? No way. I can’t even darn socks. I knew I had enrolled in a fly fishing school, but I never thought about the fly tying aspect that would accompany my studies. School started and there I was, my instructor persuading me to give it a try. Reluctantly I went to the tying area. With a heavy heart, I tried my hand at tying my first fly, and managed to make a large and splendid bug. That disheveled fly went on to startle many fish, but one showed interest; all was
Oman … the name alone conjures up images of the desert, sand dunes and camels. This is the place that I now call home and where my husband and I have started our fishing business: Arabian Fly Sport Fishing. Most people’s first reactions are “Oh yeah, I saw the movie Fly Fishing in Yemen. Is it like that?” Well we haven’t built our own river and stocked it with wild salmon, that’s for sure. Our business is saltwater fishing. Oman has over 2000 kilometers of coastline - from rugged, unforgiving cl
Laurentian Great Lakes steelhead are a complex stock of fish. The population is a mixture of hatchery-released and wild, naturally reproduced fish originating from many different streams. Knowing the natal streams of the fish is important to best managing this species, as it allows for targeted conservation and management to the areas that are the major contributors to the total lake population. Fortunately, we may be able to determine the natal stream of a fish by looking at its otolith. Otoli
I avoid the temptation to predict where I will end up on a journey in life. It seems the path forward is very much dependent on what I discover and learn along the way and, most importantly, who I meet. There is force and momentum more powerful than my own plans for the future that are brought forth when the desires of hearts flow together on a common path. Waypoints Every good journey in life begins with taking a risk. I’ve written about that (“Taking the Leap”, Dun Magazine, Summer 2018) but,
Since the early 1900s, people have quarreled over the beaver and trout relationship. Some fishermen are convinced that beaver are the ultimate villain, ruining pristine fishing spots, while others vow that beaver ponds accommodate some of the best fishing, yielding many prized catches. Brook trout inhabit small headwater streams characterized by cooler water temperatures and riffle-run areas with rocky substrate. Beavers dam up a stream to create a pond, a refuge, in which they can construct the
I sat alone on the hotel steps, backpack, lunch, and fly rod by my side, hoping my guide wasn’t going to stand me up. For the first time in my life I had the chance to see, if not catch, a Caribbean Grand Slam—a bonefish, tarpon and permit—and I feared Guidezilla (a pseudonym to protect the innocent) was going to blow my opportunity. Many online reviews said he was the best guide in the area—BUT potential clients should expect him to criticize their gear and fishing technique, and possibly even
Many of us know and follow the awesome fly fishing women we see on social media, admiring their huge catches and the pristine scenery around them. However, there are many women in fly fishing today that have helped to shape the entire industry, we just don’t know about them because they are not prevalent on social media. Earning them the title of “original fly fishing gangsters,” they were on the river long before it was cool. I am speaking of women like Kaitlin Barnhart. These women are behind
That’s what I said to Rachel Finn, a notorious Adirondack fly fishing guide, fine artist, and my friend, as we stood in the middle of the Ausable River throwing dry flies in pocket water, or maybe passing nymphs along boulders, outside of Lake Placid, New York in 1998. I was a city girl living temporarily in the North Country for work when I decided to take up fly fishing. Rachel was a guide at the Hungry Trout Fly Shop who spent something like half her time with her husband guiding in Alaska an
The unveiling of the Nissan Titan Surfcamp is a memory I won't forget any time soon. This event in Vero Beach, FL was certainly a once in a lifetime opportunity to meet people whose paths I would've never crossed otherwise. - Jen Ripple Teresa Westberry A 25th wedding anniversary gift turns into much more My husband Stuart and I were fly fishing for rainbow trout in Hazel Creek in Proctor, NC. Proctor was abandoned when Fontana Dam was built, and the surrounding area was flooded to create Font
This is not an action-packed fly fishing story. It has no plot progression that leaps into a thrashing battle between man versus beast, nor does it wrap up nicely with a tired smile and wet hands wrapped around The Fish of My Dreams. This is not a story about wrangling The White Whale—so please, don’t call me Ishmael. I’m not sure why I expected the 1992 Buick from Bargain Auto Rental to have an aux cord. I scan every FM radio station twice through and hear nothing but static, so I wipe the swe
Visiting my neighbors to the north proved to be more than I bargained for. This trip had it all - new and old friends, incredible food, heart-breaking fish, and a surprise ending. As I board the plane north, my suitcase full to the brim with clothes for cold weather, I’m already dreading the next morning’s early wake up call. I’m landing late, and the weather tomorrow morning is supposed to be a balmy 42 degrees. Rod case draped over my shoulder, the only thing I know about Calgary is that ever
"The sun had almost set over the water of the Restigouche River, six years ago, when I said “just one more cast”. That cast resulted in hooking and landing my first Atlantic salmon. I was six months pregnant at the time. My son will forever have fishing in his blood." - Alanda Banks-MacLeod "Perfect evenings were spent sitting on a gorgeous covered porch just yards away from the river, drink in hand, new friends shared stories, as old friends felt the comfort of simple commonalities. This trip
The Big Land is synonymous with large brook trout, but the villainous other half of that watery marriage is, shhhhhhh—PIKE. Unlike most anglers, I went to Labrador specifically to target these far northern predators. My destination for this trip is the Atikonak River in Labrador, Canada, which is a rugged, vast, unspoiled, and completely untapped watershed. Located 100 miles due east and slightly south of the city of Wabush, the only way in is a 45-minute floatplane ride. The numerous rivers co
I am eight years old. I live in Texas, and I fly fish with my dad. I didn’t realize how rare that was until I tried to find someone my age to fish with. Not easy. I started fishing with a spin cast rod and apparently caught my first bass at the age of two. I don’t remember that, but I have a photo. Dad, me, pigtails, and a largemouth. I picked up my first fly rod at the age of four. For a few years, my dad would carry a spinning rod and a fly rod for me. When I was six, I caught a large catfish,
My love for fishing started on a dock in the Adirondacks. Every summer my family spent a week or two at my grandparents’ lake house and my older brother, Charlie, and I would sit out on the dock every day with a Styrofoam cup of worms catching sunfish. We sat out there from sunrise to sunset, excited over every fish we caught. I also fished with my other grandpa from the surf in Cocoa Beach, Florida. The first time I ever saw someone fly fishing was at a neighborhood pond during my freshman year
