The river of sticks and scared fish

It is the nature of exploration that not every adventure will be the best adventure. Last weekend we drove out to the West Fork of the Duchesne River. We’d heard rumors that this was a worthy river and fishing great, and just our style. It’s a longish drive on pavement and the dirt road is rough, but we figured it was day-trippable from the city. For the first few miles we drove on a forest service road that goes through

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Secret Spots

Riding near Stanley, ID

We all know the joy in finding a new, amazing place to ride/camp/fish, especially if that place is one that you discovered on your own, that is only marginally mentioned on the internet, that the shop guys don’t have the info on, that isn’t on any app. My first instinct is to tell all my favorite friends about this most awesome place we found!! Because, really, when you are bursting with excitement, it is natural to want to share. Recently

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Southern Utah Trout Fishing

We have a history of exploring all of Southern Utah, but this time we were out looking for trout, which took us to even more new places. We had a few pointers from the internet and the fellas at Western Rivers, and we had our trusty, rather inaccurate but “field checked for accuracy” atlas. It’s been awhile since we visited Boulder, Utah, so we drove over Boulder Mountain (fall colors were off the hook!) and made our first stop at the Escalante

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Trout Fishing On the Olympic Peninsula

If you like catching trout and you like solitude on the river, the Olympic Peninsula in July is the place for you. This is the land of steelhead fishing, lifted pick-up trucks, weed shops and “Women for Trump.” Not the kind of place where people are satisfied with a 12″ cutthroat. We found a bunch of rivers filled with trout and no one else fishing. It took some bushwhacking, rock-hopping and creative casting to get the fish, but I found myself giggling, and feeling like I

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The Story of Captain Black

I can’t honestly say that I have had a personal relationship with any trout that I have caught. Each one seems a small miracle to me, both in that I was able to catch it, and in its iridescent beauty. For the moment that I hold it, extract my fly and then release it back to river I am completely absorbed with it and grateful for the connection, but they remain somewhat anonymous even if I give them nicknames for

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