This Summer…

… should be pretty awesome.

This Thursday I’m heading north to Wisconsin for a long weekend and get to spend a day (and if I work it right maybe another morning or afternoon) fishing the driftless region.

Towards the end of June I’m heading to my hometown of Charleston, SC and have a few days set aside to chase tails in the grass.

Then I’m heading to New York where I’ll be able hit some those renowned Catskill streams I used to haunt when I lived up that way.

And I may also be hitting Pennsylvania in August.

These with the occasional local trip should keep me fishing most of the summer.

So yeah, everything seems to be coming up, well… me. (Let’s hope some greater power doesn’t interpret this post as a sign of hubris and decide to take action.)


Seven Days

Due to the incredible destructive force that my children posses I’m forced to write this on an iPad, which I’m not real good typing on, so I’m going to keep this short.

One week from today I’ll be in the Keys. I will have six days to do nothing but fish. No wife, no kids, just me, my kayak and some fly fishing gear.

Hopefully I’ll come back to tell stories (with pictures) of big salty fish, lessons I learned and at least one “this is¬†not¬†the way to do it” tale. If not I should at least come back a bit more tan and much more relaxed.

So y’all wish me luck and be expecting the first reports in a couple of weeks!


Well, it’s only the second day of the Every day in May challenge and I’m already having problems. This does not bode well.

The subject is Home Waters¬†and it should be a relatively¬†easy topic for me to write about but I’m having a hard time putting how I feel into words. This is probably because it’s an emotional subject for me, as was what I wrote about yesterday, and honestly I’m not one for… sharing. Not real emotions anyway. I’m fine with bitching about things. Most of my agitation is mock agitation and I’ve always thought of ranting as a sport, but I try to stay distanced from anything that elicits any sort of poignant feelings.¬†Yet, when thinking of the rivers, creeks and bays I fished the majority of my life it gets me a little verklempt.¬†Being relatively¬†recently removed from these waters I guess some deep feelings are to be expected, though I didn’t expect it to feel so close to mourning.

I’ve lived farther away for longer periods of time but I was younger with more money and fewer children and making trips back to what I’ll always consider my home was no big deal. If I was desperate¬†for the reel screaming pull of a big redfish (which in my heart of hearts will always be a spottail bass), the smell of pluff mud or the taste of shrimp that were caught within hours of when they were eaten, I could make plans and be where I wanted within a week or two. I would often make the fourteen hour drive from Brooklyn to Charleston just to spend a long weekend. Didn’t even think that much about it.

Now I live three hours away and planing a trip to Charleston is akin to making a shuttle launch; everything has to be¬†just right. How much do we have in the bank account? Is everyone feeling well? What needs to get done at home before we can leave? Is anything else scheduled? Where we going to stay? And god help me if I try to head down to do something that involves timing the tide and weather because, so far, it’s proven impossible.

I guess that’s why I get emotional about my home waters; they’re so close but still so far away.

Why Not Me?

In my ongoing search to find television that will act as white noise for the baby I discovered TED Talks, a series of lectures about, well, a little bit of everything.

One of these was about dragonflies in The Maldives; how they got there, what they’re doing somewhere with no above ground fresh water, ect.. The dragonflies didn’t interest me as much as the pictures of the flats that surround the islands¬†of The Maldives.

I’ve been aware of the existence¬†of these islands for a while and vaguely aware that it’s a fly fishing destination but didn’t really know much more than this. So I decided to use the magic information box that I spend so much of my time with lately and looked up some info on fishing around this particular chain of atolls.

In my search I came across this:

Fly Odyssey recently visited the island to assess the potential of fly fishing in this region.

This simple statement struck me in an unexpected way. This sentence allowed me to believe, for the first time in my life, that there are occupations out there in the world that don’t suck.

Read the above quote again.

The part I like is: assess the potential of fly fishing in this region. Someone, or group of someones, not only got to fish what is essentially unexplored waters but got paid to do it.

Okay, I know that it probably doesn’t work exactly like that. But it is someones¬†job to¬†assess the potential of fly fishing in a region!¬†

Phone call – “Bill? Yeah this is Jim. How would you like to go check out this little known place and see if the fishing is good enough for us to set up shop. You can handle that? Okay, good. Talk to you soon.”

Once again, I’m aware that these kind of things are more complicated than that and I’m sure there’s drudgery and bad days and blah, blah, blah… But¬†ASSESSING THE POTENTIAL OF FLY FISHING!!!!!

It’s like being the¬†Christopher Columbus, the Vasquez, the Indiana¬†Mutha Fuckin’ Jones, of the long rod!

I should have started fly fishing younger. I should have taken some business classes and learned to talk to investors. I… I… I should have…


I would like to go back in time and explain to my past self that traveling to fish is something somebody could do for a living.

But now that I have reached what would be my middle age if it were the year 1750, I wonder, will it be easier to find my way into this career now or build the goddamned time machine?