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Grays Best

Around the Fire Print E-mail

Even in the worst of times, the annual trip is always the best of times.
by James R. Babb

Home Away from Home Print E-mail

Searching for the answers to life’s mysteries, not to mention elephantine brook trout.
by James R. Babb

Birthday Bones Print E-mail

Wherein Brains has a memorable 40th, and so do we all.
by James R. Babb

I don't know whether to blame the bright Bahamian sun, broiling the brains of a winter-pale northerner stalking bonefish flats and mangrove creeks. Or whether it’s all those bonefish over the past week—all of them, every flashing, slashing one of them burned bright and silvery into my mind like the big chrome bumper of the 1949 Buick I too closely encountered on the bike I got for my sixth birthday.

Codstock Print E-mail

Greetings from the foggy coast of Maine, where technology marches on, and even catch-and-releasers have to eat.
by James R. Babb

There was nothing Melvillean about our dawn-patrol departure from the foggy coast of Maine. Despite the dour weather, we didn’t suffer from a damp, drizzly November in our souls, nor do we seek a substitute for pistol and ball. We had simply accounted it high time to get to sea for the age-old reason that we were hungry for fish.

Treasures of the Sierra Madre Print E-mail

Senko? We don’t need no stinking Senkos!
by James R. Babb

To twist a pivotal passage from a favorite movie, Largemouth bass are a very devilish sort of thing. You start out, you want a 20 pounder. After days of sweating yourself dizzy you finally come down to 15 pounds, then 10. Finally you say, “Lord, just let me land a couple of eight pounders and I’ll never ask for anything more the rest of my life.” 

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