Fly Fishing Lifestyle in Salida, Colorado

The smooth face of the earthen dam spans the gap between two flat-topped mesas a half-mile distant, the mesas pockmarked with snow...

The tires rolling across fresh snow made a muffled chirp, reminiscent of the soft trill of a flock of grebes, floating on...

Traveling thirty miles down a gravel road generally rewards one with a degree of solitude. So it proved as we crested the...

As lakes go it is not particularly impressive, rather an elongated pond with an inflow at one end and an outflow at...

Ever since society evolved to the requisite level of sophistication where someone could call themselves a fishing guide without being laughed out...

I climbed the small knoll to get a better view of the land ahead. The meadow in front of me was a...

We pushed the boats away from the beach and into the flow. For a time, river and interstate ran side by side—two...

It is my least favorite climb. Not because it is the steepest—it isn’t—or the longest—not so. Rather, for its duration it keeps...

Terry was from the Texas Panhandle. He never spoke in a rush, each vowel the length of a short story. He was...

I scrambled up the lose rock of the bank, slipped off my pack and, sitting with my back against a sun-warmed boulder,...

I scrambled up the lose rock of the bank, slipped off my pack and, sitting with my back against a sun-warmed boulder,...

“We’re going after big fish this afternoon. Enough of this little fish nonsense.” I reached under the seat for my fly box,...

“We’re going after big fish this afternoon. Enough of this little fish nonsense.” I reached under the seat for my fly box,...

My boots settled into the soft pea-gravel of the river bed. I stood silently, thighs and calves braced against the steady press...

There came, for a brief time in the afternoon, an impression of being completely alone on the Bighorn. Beneath a breaking sky,...