Mike's Gone Fishin'... Again

The big brown moved slightly as my elk hair caddis rode the swift currents towards it’s holding place. The trout lay suspended in the soft ...

Huddled under the dense streamside rhododendrons in an attempt to escape the downpour, we tried to recall how many Mississippis there are i...

Silence. Crisp, wintery silence. No, not exactly silence. Something better. Silence gently wrapped around the soothing white noise of a...

A time honored, traditional recipe. Good for both body and soul. 1 medium sized Colorado freestone river 2 lifelong friends, aged and ge...

And now, the winning ticket for the TFO Lefty Kreh Signature fly rod is, number 4-1-8-7. YES!!! It's MINE!!! And, best of all...

Mary just doesn't get it. “Is that your new fishing pole?” she asked as I excitedly opened the Cabelas package that the UPS guy had j...

The boy in the grainy, sepia-hued 8mm home movie can’t be more than four, maybe five years old. Frayed dungarees, flannel shirt, crew cut,...

At least it seems that way. The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of real estate and handyman madness as we prepare to sell our house,...

We knew that leaving Yellowstone, the Tetons, and our whole Montana experience would be difficult, but we didn't know how difficult. I...

A late departure from Centennial Valley - it's hard to say goodbye to such a good gathering of guys - put us back in Yellowstone later ...