Taking advice

Almost clear skies on Grand Mesa!

Stopping in at the local fly or bike shop and asking for advice is a well established ritual, especially if you are in a new area. What river is fishing well? What flies are working? What are the trail conditions? What’s the local fave ride? Is there good camping somewhere? At the bike shop, I might buy a map or a pair of socks. At the fly shop, I will get some dry flies. But how do you know when

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The Mighty Mosquito

mosquitoes, courtesy of the Field Book of Insects

If you are a fan of gin and tonics, you might want to read this book. It’s a very entertaining history of tonic water, which has quinine as a main ingredient, which was used to treat malaria, which is spread by mosquitoes. “Malaria is not the mosquito’s fault, but mosquitoes suck anyway.” I happened to be reading it in the tent last weekend, with a line of fresh mosquito bites on my forehead, exactly following the bottom edge of my

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Poppers!

Rollie Pollie Frog Popper

When I decided to take up fly fishing I knew, with no exaggeration, almost nothing about it. No one who knows me will be surprised to learn that I started with the gear: rod lengths, weights and flex, reels, lines, nets, flies, packs… I learned the knots, I learned about hatches, and creeks vs rivers, dry flies vs wet flies vs nymphs. Strangely, I never really thought about the fish. I assumed that fly fishing = trout fishing (and hey!

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I’d rather be on vacation

We will be there soon...

You know those bumper stickers, I’d rather be skiing/fishing/sailing/driving a Titleist/etc.? I think we can all relate to that feeling, especially as we sit in a car, close enough to read someone’s bumper sticker. There are so many things I would rather be doing, most of the time. We are planning 2 vacations right now: spring and summer. Spring can be a little tricky, and especially this year, with huge amounts of snow melting everywhere in the West and insistently

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Emma the Dog

My dog Mack is the official love dog, but the story of true love in our house starts with the scrappy Catahoula, Emma. I never wanted a dog (you can’t leave town! They are so dirty! They eat poo!) but I worked at a dog-friendly company and all the employees with dogs took lots of breaks, and I thought it was either get a dog or take up smoking. We went to the Super Adoption, just to look, where all

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