Mike's Gone Fishin'... Again

We slipped out of the shrouded cove as quietly as we could, not so that we wouldn’t wake the girls - the dogs and our stumbling about the k...

Just when you hoped pleaded prayed thought that the Texas chronicles were over... Enough happened while chasing them redfish down sout...

Jason and the shuttle guy lean against the truck and speak in low tones, both staring at the brilliant green, yellow, and red blobs that mo...

3:30am . Out of bed. 4:00am . On the road. Out of South Padre, heading back to San Antonio to catch our late-morning flights. It's time...

Heavy surf. Really? We knew we were screwed as we drove north to the end of the beach road and saw, suspended above the dunes, dozens o...

It was a fine bit of fishin'. Perhaps the best sequence I've ever witnessed. As fun to watch as it was to do. After a tough morni...

I should have followed Austin’s advice. As we sat around the cabin’s front porch a couple of nights earlier, the conversation had inevita...

From the upper Laguna Madre to the lower Laguna Madre. From a postage stamp, sliver of land to the plushy spring break destination of South...

The end of the day, much like the end of our visit here on the upper Laguna Madre, comes all too quickly. I suspect it's not that the d...

I beached the boat, unloaded my rod, box of flies, the couple of empty water bottles that had been rolling around under my seat during the ...