Every entry in our sweepstakes powers our work keeping rivers cold and fish thriving.
Every entry in our sweepstakes powers our work keeping rivers cold and fish thriving.
Foam fly boxes float. If you want to see your flies again, make sure fly box floats, too. Several years ago, I was steelhead fishing on Idaho’s Salmon River. I’d spent the week leading up to the trip tying flies and gearing up. Steelhead on the Salmon were—and still are—a fish that came calling on…
“You take it on faith, you take it to the heart. The waiting is the hardest part. “ — Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers I made my plane reservations in December. I booked the little house across the street from the beach in November. It sits in the heart of a little fishing village in…
Photo courtesy of Scott Dickerson / Design Pics/Getty Images/Design Pics RF If you haven’t checked it out yet, you need to visit The Guardian and read its ongoing series on public lands and the threats to them. A deep dive into the public lands issue, this collaborative project with the Society of Environmental Journalists is…
By Dave Ammons Keith was my favorite and most loyal fishing buddy, mostly because he never judged. He paid no mind to a bad mend, a snag on the back cast, or a unnatural drift. He just loved observing quietly from the water’s edge. Keith recently drove with me to Colorado, riding in the back…
This week’s news that the EPA was suspending the Clean Water Act’s protections for headwater streams was a stark reminder that elections have consequences. The previous presidential administration worked for years to write the rule, and the new one doesn’t like it. Game over, right? No. Don’t forget an unassailable fact—elected leaders are elected. By…
I love Montana. I even like Bozeman. Sometimes those are two different things, as lots of Montanans will be happy to tell you. If I were going to pick a place where I could be close to Bozeman and still feel like I was in “real” Montana, I’d stay with some friends at their ranch…
When I was a kid fishing with my grandfather on bigger water, the first thing he always did was flip over rocks as we walked along the river. He’d give each rock a good look, and he’d point out squiggly little bugs to me and my brothers and cousins. “See that?” he’d ask, pointing to…