Angling

Shades

When I was young, I didn’t even wear sunglasses, as the whole point of existence…

Shad’s the Limit

Every year about this time, when the days are longest, the weeds tallest, the garden…

Mud in Your Eye

I disapprove of drinking. But not saloons, oddly enough. Coming off the water on a…

The Doing of the Thing

Recently I ran into an ex-student of mine who related that he and several of…

Doubles

First off, I leave it to you to decide for yourself what’s right and what’s…

Living the Dream

There’s something odd about the soup the waitress brings me at the Old Brew House,…

Coastal Cutts

I met Dave McCoy on a chilly winter morning south of Seattle, when I‑5 was…

Fur & Feather

I know I’m not alone when I recall exploring the possibility of harvesting a pelt…

Got Yours?

You have to understand: I’m not much of a hunter.  

Between the Lines

I was amused recently to read a piece from the National Review, shared with me…

“Is They Good to Eat”

The goldspotted sand bass, Paralabrax auroguttatus, are down about 100, 120 feet. You drop your jig…

Totoaba

We’re dropping jigs down to a high spot north of Isla San Luis, in the…