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Who Is Harry Moores?

You don’t know who Harry Moores is? That’s probably because you are not following him on Instagram… Harry has quickly made a name for himself in the fly fishing industry, with some incredible photography, and more notable his countless array of short, sexy, exhilarating Instagram videos. Harry is able to capture a classic New Zealand moment so perfectly, edit it to the right length, and share it with his audience. If you are not following him you are missing out!

1. Give us a little background on who you are.. (Age, Occupation, How Long Have you been in NZ)
I was born in Taranaki on the West Coast of the North Island (NZ), and grew up there (I’m now 28). My Dad and his good mate Hamish from the UK (both chefs at the time) used to fly fish in their spare time and before long I followed suit. I have had an unconventional career path and I have found that creative pursuits such as painting, music (piano), and photography provide me with enough income and freedom to follow my passion for fly-fishing.

2. What is the largest trout you have ever landed?
These days I take as much pleasure just being out there on the water as I do catching large fish so I don’t normally target ‘trophy trout’ as much as I could or perhaps should. Targeting large fish can mean fishing crowded water. I much prefer finding locations where free rising fish are plentiful and the crowds… not so much. I have been fortunate to land a number of fish around the 9-pound mark though, and I know where one or two trophy trout reside, so perhaps next season I will look at catching the big one!

3. If you had to describe fly fishing in one sentence..
Being near clear running water is almost a spiritual experience for me. So when Picasso talks about art washing away from the soul the dust of everyday life, I would say: “Fly fishing is art” (and an excuse to explore).

4. You obviously spend most of your time in NZ, are their any other fishing destinations on your bucket list?
I was fortunate to fish off Cairns a number of years ago and caught my first Black Marlin on the charter boat Moana 3. I also took a photograph of a 900lb fish on the trip, and my interest in photography grew from then on. I would love to go back and capture more moments like that on the Great Barrier Reef. Places I would want to explore with the fly rod include Alaska, Montana, South America (The Rio Grande in Tierra Del Fuego and Jurassic Lake in particular), and Aitutaki (for Bonefish).

5. You have some awesome content on your Instagram feed, some of the coolest short edits, are these clients that you are guiding? Is there any advice you can give a young videographer?
A lot of the content features my good friend Kyle Adams who used to guide at Cedar lodge. We bought a camera and explored the South Island for a month a few years back with the intention of creating a film. That never eventuated, however, I was left with a lot of great footage from the trip. I also filmed Herb Spannagl demonstrating the TRC (Tongariro Roll Cast) on the Tongariro, which proved to be a very popular short clip. I’m not suggesting that popular is good, but what both these trips have in common are good people and great locations. So once you have the basics down (how to use the camera), I would suggest mixing with people with similar interests that are better than you. Self-taught photographer Ben Moon (photographer for Patagonia), spent 3 years living in his van photographing some of the best climbers before he got recognized. So pursuing your passion can be the way to go. On the Instagram side of things, I have found that simple clean edits do well.

6. Ideal Rod Setup?
I currently use a Sage Z-Axis #6 with a Rio Gold floating line for most of my backcountry fishing. For the winter fishing the Tongariro where I use the ‘Tongariro Roll Cast’ a lot, a good set up would be a Scott Radian #7 with a Rio Salmon/Steelhead #8 or #9 floating line.

7. Favorite Fly?
For small fish, I would go with a tungsten bead #14 mayfly imitation. For rivers where the fish are educated and/or big, my two go-to flies are Sinking Spiders and Stoneflies. Both of these flies are big (#8 – #6) and seem to do the trick. If I had to pick just one, I would pick the Sinking Spider for its versatility.

8. Craziest fishing experience…
In the headwaters of the Rangitikei River, I spooked a large rainbow a number of times to a point where it was sitting dead still, at the bottom of a very deep pool. Without anything to lose (there weren’t much active fish around) I extended my leader length to about 24ft, tied on a weighted stonefly and took off my indicator. I chucked the fly out and just watched the fish (the water is crystal clear). A few moments later I saw a flash of silver, indicating that the fish had somehow taken the fly and hooked itself – it was a real eye-opener as to how effective large flies can be. On that same multi-day trip my forehead and eye swelled up, and as a precaution I was airlifted out, later being diagnosed with the shingles virus. Another crazy experience (which is featured on my Instagram feed) is my mate Kyle wet wading across a freezing cold West Coast river in order to untangle a fish. He swims back (kicking backstroke style, with the rod in hand, and his head fortuitously resting on his backpack) and lands the fish. The most exciting fishing moment I have experienced is when a 900lb Black Marlin was lit up on the wire while fishing off the Great Barrier Reef.

9. Favorite Drink?
Kombucha.

10. Favorite Movie?
Growing up I was always a fan of the classic Shawshank Redemption. If you haven’t seen ‘Hunt for the Wilderpeople’ I would recommend that as a favorite Kiwi comedy of late. 

11. Any Idols in the Fly Fishing World?
I didn’t have the chance to meet him but Norman Marsh has had the most influence on me as a fly fisherman. His book ‘Trout stream insects of NZ’ is the most thorough reference book on NZ Fly Fishing that I have read. I have also learned a lot from a number of NZ anglers, notably Kyle Adams (Taranaki), and Clayton Nicholls (Blenheim). 

12. What is next in the world of Harry Moores?
Filling up the fly boxes with some new ties before embarking on some more adventures. Once October comes around I eat, breath, sleep fishing, so you will probably find me on a remote corner of the South Island.

Product Spotlight: Douglas Upstream Rod

I’ve been a long time Winston Fan and I still am. But I was looking for a softer rod when I stopped by George Anderson’s Fly Shop in Livingston last summer and noticed what I thought, with it’s lighter color, was a cane rod. So I picked it up and gave it a wiggle and I knew INSTANTLY that this was just what I was looking for. I loved everything about it; the small all cork handle, the finish, the smooth soft flex, all coming in at a spartan 1.7 ounces and about 50% of the price of the competition.

So off I went for home, via Fernie, and used it on some of my favorite little Cutthroat Rivers. When I got home I ordered a second one, same model; 8’8” 4 piece for a 4 weight and I’ve never done that before, buying the same model twice. Then I took it down for another New Zealand Trout Season, but it was a bit light for those fish. So now I’m waiting and hoping the the new upcoming 5 and 6 weight Upstream Models arrive in time for my Nov. departure for N.Z.

Years ago I gave a cartoon idea to my buddy John Randolph, the then editor of Fly Fisherman Magazine, and they ran it. It was a guy lying in bed with a fly rod and  he had  a goofy worried look on his face and the caption was, “Is Fly Rod Love…wrong?” So for me, I think I met that rod with the Douglas Upstream Model.

 After fishing all over world all these years and chasing the photos for my annual calendar, I have never found a rod that I loved more. In September I’ll be fishing the High Country Streams in Colorado with it and I can’t wait.

David Lambroughton grew up in California, graduating from San Jose University in 1976. Immediately after graduation, he headed to the Fall River and a life-changing summer tying flies and guiding for Rick’s Lodge. From 1976 to 1988, he worked  as a full-time guide in locales that included Oregon, California, Montana, Idaho, Alaska, and British Columbia, carrying a camera throughout it all. He now travels and fishes all over the globe, writing and collecting images for his annual Fly Fishing Dreams Calendar. Via MidCurrent

Although our photos are not as majestic as the legendary David Lambroughton, we have also been fishing the upstream Rod this summer. In fact two weeks ago we fished on the Farmington River up in Connecticut. To be honest I had never experienced fish this picky. Throwing two dries in a tandem rig, I watched this fish nose at the larger fly, bumping it to see if it was real. It turned it down quickly, then opened its mouth to slurp a small Trico trailing behind. The Upstream Rod Series, has a way of delicately laying out your line, allowing the fly to land as naturally as possible. It really makes a difference in circumstances like this.

Right now the generous folks at Douglas Outdoors are giving away one of these incredible rods. Hit the link below and signup for a chance to win!

http://info.douglasoutdoors.com/upstreamcontest

Video: Why You Should Quit Your Job and Head West With The Love Of Your Life…

In the summer of 2015, filmmakers Aimee Savard and Chase Bartee packed up their belongings, moved into their 1985 Volkswagen Westfalia, and left their home in Massachusetts. The goal? To make their way to Montana, and spend as much time as humanly possible exploring, fly fishing, and documenting their travels. Living in an eighty square foot van would pose its challenges. But the lessons learned and experiences gained over the next three and a half months would set events into motion that would change their lives forever.

“Like so many adventures, this one started with a question; how can we spend more time doing what we love, and less time stuck wishing we were somewhere else? Most anglers will find themselves asking similar questions from time to time. In our case, it seemed we were asking it more and more often. Eventually, we realized there was only ever going to be one answer. So we bought a VW van, quit our jobs, and started driving west. The destination was Montana, and the goal was to spend as much time on the water as humanly possible, or at least until we ran out of gas, food, money, or whatever came first. We armed ourselves to the gills with camera gear and documented every step of the way. With destination fishing flooding every corner of social media, “Journey On” proves that with nothing more than a tank full of gas and burning desire to find rising fish, the adventure of a lifetime is waiting just outside your door, all you have to do is reach out and claim it.” – Chase and Aimee aka Tight Loops 

After hearing about this Incredible Journey, and watching the full length film… I couldn’t help but ask this couple a few questions:

1. If you could explain the sport of fly fishing in one word what would it be?
C: Love. Love of water, love of the fish below it, love of the rich environments it flows through. When you truly love something, all you want to do is share it with people you care about. I think that’s the force that drove my grandfather to share it with me, and it’s the same force that drives me to share it with others.

A: Serenity.

2. What was your inspiration for taking this adventure?
C: Just general quarter-life detritus I guess. After I graduated college I worked in the film industry for a couple of years and hated it. Probably because 4 years of art school has a way of really crushing your creative spirit, but the truth about working in the movie biz is that there’s not a lot of room for creativity on a day-to-day basis anyway. I walked away from that and took a job with a buddy doing construction to keep my rent and bills at bay. While I enjoyed the work tremendously before I knew it three years had passed, and I was no closer to finding fulfillment than when I started. I guess after taking some years away from my creative work it seemed like the right time to shake things up a bit. Aimee had never been out West, neither one of us had ever lived nomadically like that before, and I was eager to sink my teeth into a substantial project. I think we’re both at the age where you first realize that time is moving way faster than it did when you were a kid, and every avenue you choose seems to have more and more permanent consequences. I guess it felt like if we didn’t get off our asses and start doing the things we wanted to do, then before we knew it, it would be too late. It honestly felt like we didn’t have a choice.

5. Did you accomplish everything you set out to do?

C: I think so. In hindsight, there are always things you wish you could go back and do differently, but I’m really proud of what we did, and how the film turned out. Part of me wishes I could go back and do it all over again without the cameras, but in the end it’s the love of filmmaking that brought us there, and we’re going to be really glad we have such an incredible record of our trip when we’re old and decrepit and unable to do this kind of stuff anymore.

6. If you could take another trip and make a new movie, where would you go?
C: This has been on my mind a lot lately, because we aren’t even close to being done taking trips, or making movies! I think the Canadian Rockies are high on my list, and over on the east, I wouldn’t mind making our way to Labrador at some point. In terms of more domestically, I’d like to spend an entire summer fishing only high elevation lakes. It takes a lot of work, but it pretty much has everything a fly angler could ever want; beautiful scenery, big fish, and unpressured water. There are so many places we haven’t explored yet. I’m sure we could spend a hundred lifetimes seeking them out.

4. For all the younger videographers out there, what is some advice you could give them about taking their work to the next level? 

C: Make the movies YOU want to see. The fly fishing video world is exploding right now, but it’s still so young, and there are so many stones that are left unturned. Don’t be afraid to make the films you want to make, even if no one else is doing it. Experiment and push yourself out of your comfort zone. There are a lot of incredible places and fish out there, but those things alone won’t make a great film. Even if you don’t have tons of expensive gear, big fish, or exotic destinations there are a million ways to tell a great story, so don’t be afraid to get creative with your narrative or visuals.

5. If you could only bring one camera with you, what would it be?
C: That’s a really tough one. I guess I’d bring my primary camera, which is a Sony NEX-FS700RH because it’s got a lot of versatile functions. But the thing ways like 10 pounds and requires a robust tripod, so I’m getting pretty tired of lugging it all over the place. My suggestion to people who are a little less masochistic would be to find something small, versatile, and bombproof. Shooting in the outdoors can be tough, and the less you have to worry about the better.

A: It depends greatly on the situation for me, but my Voigtlander Bessa R4M is pretty great.  It’s lightweight and easy to carry around my neck when we hike.  I just recently started doing the digital thing, and my Canon 5d Mark iii is so fun to shoot with.  That will likely be my go-to camera for a while.  But film wise, that Pentax 6×7 is pretty stellar too.  I can’t pick just one!

6. Favorite Drink?

C: Well, when I’m not just drinking water to stay alive, which by the way, is a fine drink, I guess I’d have to go with a nice refreshing can of “Colorado Kool-Aid”.

A: Probably lemonade.

7. Favorite Movie?

C: John Carpenter’s “The Thing” never seems to get old.

A: Mrs. Doubtfire

8. What is it like having a girlfriend / Fiancee who shares your passion for fly fishing?
C: It’s amazing! For all the folks who have significant others with different interests; image what it would be like if you didn’t have to come up with some lame excuse every time you wanted to sneak away and get a couple hours in? Yeah, that’s basically our lives. Being able to share my passion with Aimee has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life.

A: It’s awesome.  We get to share all of the things we love with each other.  We both get so excited making all of these plans for fishing trips and films, and we get to geek out about trout and how beautiful they are.

9. My first reaction when watching your film was wow, you guys are both incredible artists. How long have you been shooting film and video for? Do you have any videographers that inspire you?
C: Art sort of runs in my family. Although my folks pursued careers outside of the arts, they are both wonderful artists in their own rights, and when I began drawing around the age of 4 or 5 they were really adamant about encouraging and nurturing my creative urges.  I first got into shooting video when I was about 10. I had just been introduced to skateboarding and my friends and I were looking for ways to document our daily adventures. Being the creative type already, I took the initiative to hijack my parents VHS shoulder cam and the rest was history. I continued making skateboard videos for the next decade, and in case folks aren’t familiar with the genre, it actually has a really innovative and unique aesthetic, and several of its big players drawing inspiration from far and wide in the art/film/photography world. So growing up watching and producing skate videos was a serious crash course in video making. When I graduated high school I applied to a bunch of art schools with a largely illustration based portfolio, but after being accepted to the Rhode Island School of Design I quickly made the choice to switch majors and focus on film and video. I was so heavily involved in both the independent and professional skateboard world at the time that I felt I needed to consolidate my work in and out of school. I’m glad I made that choice because I learned a whole lot about filmmaking over the next 3 years. If you’re familiar with my work through Tight Loops then you know that I still play around with some fine arts stuff, but film and video is definitely my primary focus. In terms of videographers, I admire? I could name a million filmmakers (remember I’m an art school nerd) but maybe I’ll keep it within the fishing world. I think Jim Klug and Chris Patterson from Confluence Films make beautiful work. They really set a standard for fly fishing films in terms of both production and storytelling. They also pay a lot of attention to the overall visual aesthetic of their films. I don’t know if they are shooting on 16mm anymore, but I know it always makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside when I pop in a copy of “Drift” or “Rise”. I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention Rolf Nylinder from Fronsidefly. He always has been, and maybe always will be one of the few people within this little niche community who’s really pushing the boundaries of the format and experimenting with both visual and narrative techniques. If anyone hasn’t seen his latest episodic masterpiece “The Field Coffee Diaries”, then stop reading this interview and go watch it immediately.

A: I started shooting film when I was in 7th grade.  I was handed down a camera from relatives.  A Minolta 35mm.  I shot all black and white film and developed it myself.  I bought a book on the basics and just went from there.  I continued to shoot with that same camera all through high school.  I applied to art school and went into a photography program.  I made it one year.  It wasn’t the right fit for me at that time.  I wanted to be out experiencing and documenting life.  I spent a lot of time photographing punk shows in Boston and the people around me.  I put my camera down and walked away many times, but I always came back to it. This project was the first time I felt like I could fully focus on my art.  I shot with that same Minolta up until maybe 2008, when I started experimenting with toy cameras and color film.  When I started shooting medium format it really opened new doors for me.  Buying my Pentax 6×7 was sort of mind-blowing.  That thing takes such gorgeous photos and it’s such a beast.

10. When did you start to fish? What was the first fish you caught on a fly rod?
C: I started fishing in 1997. My entire family is from Montana, but I grew up abroad (in Israel in fact, but that’s a whole other story). I’d get to visit in the summers, so it was only a matter of time until my uncles and cousins introduced me to fishing. I spent the first two years casting conventional tackle off of docks during vacations. When I turned 10 my grandfather decided it was the time I learned to fly fish, and that summer he taught me how to cast and tie some basic flies. I remember my first fish so clearly; it was a 4 or 5 inch Brookie, caught on a Griffiths Gnat on a small feeder stream of the Big Hole just above Wise River, MT. I was instantly hooked! During the production of Journey On we were lucky enough to pay another visit to that stream and catch the great grandkids of those brookies. It was just as awesome I remembered it.

A: I just recently started fly fishing thanks to Chase, but my Dad took me fishing when I was a little girl and I caught my first trout.  I definitely didn’t know what any of it meant at that time. There’s a photo of me and my dad and I’m touching my first trout.  I look really excited.  Its one of my favorite photos of my Dad and I.  My Aunt Pat & Uncle Jay were big into fishing when I was growing up.  I used to love waking up early and going out on their boat.  We fished conventional tackle in saltwater.  I’ll never forget the excitement when we got into a big group of stripers.  Those are some really special memories.  Chase taught me the basics of fly fishing when we started dating.  He took me out in April when it was still really chilly and I caught my first rainbow trout.  Once I caught my first tiny brook trout on a dry fly I was hooked.  Its been non-stop ever since.

11. Whats next for Chase and Aimee?
C: Marriage! We are getting hitched on September 17th up in New Hampshire. Other than that, we took another trip this past June, up to Maine to fish and film for the next installment of our Journey On series. We got to fish some of the most coveted trophy native brook trout rivers left in the US. It was an incredible experience and we look forward to sharing it, as well as some other project with everyone soon!

 Make Sure you Check out Chase and Amiee’s new Movie Journey On! 

Photo Essay: 32″ Redfish On Fly, in Rockport Texas

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Mason did a ssnapshotTakeover for Flylords at the beginning of August, and absolutely crushed the story. He wanted to follow up with some words about his trip, and a nice Redfish the boys landed in some murky conditions…

Monday morning we dropped the skiff in the water and headed south to San Jose island near Rockport Texas in hopes of finding clear water due to the high winds. We arrived at the island and found redfish tailing in clear water over grass and sand. There were blue crabs all over the place so we matched the hatch with a small tan EP (Epoxy) crab fly. The first fish we saw inhaled the small crab fly and the fight was on. Throughout the day we found fish all over the flat with numerous hook ups. The highlight of the day was when we sight casted a nice 32in redfish around noon which headed for deep water and went into the backing on my 6wt Hardy in no time. After getting the fish to hand we snapped a few pictures and headed in for a burger at POPS.

If anyone is interested in booking a trip email masonmatejcek@yahoo.com he can accommodate up to two anglers on his Maverick HPX-T and does both fly fishing and light tackle sight fishing out of Rockport and Port O’Connor Texas.

Thanks again Fly Lords we look forward to next time!

Mason Messana on the Camera. 

Flylords Snapchat: theflylords

Tick Check: Lyme Disease

This post is about my battle with a tick.

4 months after flying 26 hours to Dunedin, NZ for my St. Lawrence University study abroad semester, I was back on a plane to New England. Scared, twitching, and unsure, I advanced my flight 3 weeks. NZ doctors attributed the twitching, headaches, and fatigue to the onset of MS. As I left behind new friends, incredible fly fishing, and my final exams, I felt defeated. 

Tick Quick Guide: 

1. After any outing, check for ticks – prevention is the easiest cure for Lyme Disease.

2. Grab a buddy for the places you can’t see – all your nooks n’ crannies.

3. If you find a tick, do not pull at the body – the head will stay attached and continue to feed.

4. Touch a blown out, but hot match/ lighter to skin adjacent to the tick. It should uproot itself.

5. Dispose of the tick – I prefer hitting it with a lighter. The sucked blood boils and explodes!

6. If you did not find a tick during your check, Bravo!

7. Keep an eye out for a red expanding skin rash.

8. Notify your doctor of any odd symptoms. 

The road to recovery is not often as it may seem. While i waited for my test results, fly fishing was the therapeutic cure for my fragmented mind. The moving water and feeding fish eased life’s tensions. After I was diagnosed, I fished often. With plenty of layers protecting my skin from its weakened antibiotic state, I spent brisk mornings and dwelling evenings on the river. Only one thing changed: I tick check thoroughly after every outing.

Additional Non-Fiction

By Brendan Collins

The Holdover

            I’m home. I’m safe. My dog is happy to lick my feet and I’m happy to rub him behind the ears. He’s happy that I’m home. But it’s quiet, the kind that makes me pace the room, trying not to step on any of the seams in the hardwood. I don’t know how to escape. When I wake, the sun remains hidden. I like it that way. I like the way it feels on my skin when it first scoots over the horizon. I have to leave. I roll down the window and breathe. It’s just me, the hum of my malachite green 1990 Saab 900 – Ralph – and the sun. I’m going. The Velvet Underground’s “Sweet Jane” vibrates Ralph’s door molding and my fingers beat irregularly against his steering wheel. Thoughts of doctors pointing at test results, speculating over diagnoses no longer fill my head. They said it’s too risky. Everyone always worries about the risks. That’s why everyone is always sick.

            The first step is always new, my boots in the mud, toes dipping water, a thick haze lingering, waiting to be shoed away by the sun. The cool water holds me in place. It’s a force. I gingerly walk across the gunky, boulder-strewn bottom until I reach my spot. Water is belly button deep, the limb from a white oak blocks the swift water, creating an eddy for me. The sun makes its way to the tree line. Soon, the reflection from the slow-moving pool above me will be in my eyes. I’m ready for it. I’m ready for the incredible insect hatch that it will bring. Flies will be bathing in the sunlight, fluttering, landing, and scooting about the surface. That’s when it’s the best. I know where all the big brown trout feast. They hang out in the oxygen-rich foam that floats out of larger pools and faster moving riffles. They stay deep during the heat of the day to keep cool, only rising out of the depths for fluttering mayflies or caddis but, they’ll eat anything if the conditions are right. Heck, a brown trout will eat two mice per day if the weather is right. Those are the hogs: swollen belly, greedy but smart.

            The question of who is smarter, the fish or the angler often comes into play. The fish are instinctual, the angler a master of deception. I’ve learned the replication of a fluttering mayfly, the characteristic of an escaping muddler, the helplessness of a nymph, the perfection of a dry cast and the sheepish roll cast. Failure taught me that a snag on the river bottom means I’m nymphing right, but a tangle of any kind is unacceptable and embarrassing. It distracts me from the river. Frustrating. It was love that taught me to let the rain drip down the slick of my coat, to persevere when the fish aren’t biting, to listen carefully for feasting birds and leaping trout. It was a sickness that taught me to carry my knife on my waist belt in case I fall on the gunky rocks, to check depth with my wading staff, and to lean on my staff when I feel weak. These are the things that will keep me safe.

            I fell in last week. I also fell in today. It is a slow process, like a boat in a list on the verge of capsizing. I thought I could write myself when I should have braced for impact. As I fell, I reached for my knife. I had it clenched in my hand, blade retracted, tethered on one end to my wading belt. It was ready to zip through the thin membrane of my waders, to set me free of their dead weight. Luckily, my eddy protected me from the swift water below. I floated for a second before leaning on my staff, righting myself. My boots filled with water. I could feel the skin on my toes becoming moist the way a slice of bread soaks in a tomato. A close call. There was no one to chuckle at my mistake. Not a soul to watch me bob down the river, unresisting. I’m glad it’s warm. My shirt will dry, but for now, it sticks to my skin the way syrup clings to a countertop. It’s sweet.

            I need to keep escaping. I hate the thought of the outdoorsman that writes about the wild’s ability to heal but visits his mum for tea and crackers. Sleep is best when it’s under the stars and broken by the awakening sun. Morning is best practiced when I rinse off in the river and warm in front of a smoldering fire with a thick cup of coffee. At the end of my day, I enjoy a glass of milk while glancing through weather reports, checking river conditions, and changing Ralph’s oil for our next adventure. But the doctors told me that it’s not safe. They said I need to be careful. When they told me, they had an unmistakable note in their voice, the kind of tone that made me feel like I should have known the consequences.  A timeline showed that I contracted Lyme Disease in the fall of last year.  The doctor pointed to his computer screen and discussed the risks of going into the outdoors. His tone made me wonder how anybody ever discovered anything.

            I removed and emptied my waders like a bucket of dirty water, but there was no use in drying off. The sun beat down on my exposed skin, my shirt steaming. So, I tossed a muddler at the bank across from my eddy, a good cast. It created a large kurplunk ten yards up the river, a technique used to get their attention, and then I let it swing down flow. Stripping in, taking the line, I felt the first hit. Missed it. As I kept stripping, bang! He hit again, his golden belly glistening under the surface of the water.  I pulled in line with my left hand, raising my rod with my right hand, feeling life on the other end. Hooked. I kept the pressure on, tip up and reeled in a football field worth of stripped line, setting the drag to let the fight begin. He darted towards the bank seeking shelter. His best bet was to use the turbulent water just downstream of me, but I’d be damned if I let that happen. I kept the pressure on and forced him across the river, still not tiring. My four-weight rod beckoning to his every move like a snow loaded limb about to snap. He’s big I thought, a hog. Darting towards the eddy, I got ready to scoop him up with my net, but he wasn’t finished yet. He had a plan – to get tangled in the fallen tree creating my eddy – and he executed. I was outsmarted, but I hadn’t lost him. I could see his tail, peeping out of the water, his mouth and gills held down by the tangle. I reached in with my net, scooped him up and freed him from his shackles. He was a beautiful brown trout, golden with dark blue spots and a yellow belly. I could tell by scarring on his underside that he was a holdover – a stocked fish that had survived more than one season – a rare sight. He had a thick nose, good girth in the midsection, and a wide V-shaped tail. Healthy. I held him by his underside, letting the water rush over his gills. He was tired after a long battle. His gills pulsated, oozing oxygen-rich water. I knew how he felt. Exhausted and beat up. Slipping through my hands, I watched as he swam away, his golden skin reflecting light about the water.

            I was alone again. The air warmer, the birds louder, but the river remained the same. The trees swayed and ruffled like the wind chime on my front porch, but it was softer, healthier. I reeled in the rest of my line, hooked the first eye of my rod with the prized muddler, secured my gear and left my eddy. There were more holdovers to be had in that deep flow, but I knew why they had become holdovers. They are bred in a hatchery – a facility which houses spawning fish for artificial reproduction purposes and juvenile fish for rearing – that houses hundreds of them in an interworking series of pools. Each day, they are drop fed pellets until fattened and near maturity. That’s when they’re netted, bagged and trucked to every river in the state. Then, a truck backs up to the railing where they’re dumped out like a load of mulch into a driveway, hundreds of them at a time smacking the surface of the water, waiting for their first pellet feeding that will not come. They don’t stand a chance. That’s why holdover fish are really something. They beat the odds and I sympathized with them.

            Feeling accomplished, I walked slowly through the thick vegetation so not to rip my waders on the rambler rose. I headed back to Ralph for refreshments and a siesta. He is safety. When his four cylinders come to life, the whoosh of his turbo lightens my mood. He reminds me of how easy things can be. It’s like that first bite of sandwich. When I slide open my cooler, unwrap a turkey, swiss, and pickle sandwich, I forget about my wet bread feet. The first crunchy bite washed down with a Genesee Cream Ale or two and that siesta I was talking about never seemed so good; the sun is beating down, the shade a refreshing hideaway. I strip off my waders, boots first, and reveal my wet trunk. It feels good to peel off my socks like a latex glove and lay them on Ralph’s roof. His green complexion warms their wool carefully, keeping them from becoming crusty. I prepare to doze off. I scoot my butt across his bonnet, edge my back against his windshield, and wiggle my toes in the breeze.

Photo Essay: A Bar A Ranch

William Phelps, (One of the Fishiest guys I know) experienced one of those days this summer when everything comes together. The fish were hungry, the flies were perfect, and the rewards were priceless.

I stepped outside and felt the light rain and I knew it was going to be a good day. The lower parts of the creek had been fishing well up until today, especially with streamers. The slight turbidity to the water has only been a plus during the final days of the snowmelt runoff. Today I met up with guide and friend Jeff Minnich at A Bar A guest ranch where I’ve been a guest with my family for the past few days. We hopped into the Suburban and made our way to the creek, both of us sipping our coffee and discussing the inclement weather with grins on our faces. We began fishing with a hopper dropper along the banks. Brown trout were going berserk for both the hopper and the dropper, and Jeff would turn to me and say “there’s definitely a fish under there.” I would cast my hopper right where he predicted and…wham!

A hopper-eating brown trout to start off the day.

After some success on the hopper dropper, we decided to turn it up a notch and throw some streamers. We rigged up double streamers with an olive wooly bugger in front, and jig-head slump buster tied off the bugger. Fish were clobbering both flies. It was unbelievable how willing the fish were to take a streamer in a creek less than ten feet wide in most places.

We came upon a large bush overhanging the creek, and I decided to swing the streamer right under it. I saw a bright yellow flash and I knew I just missed a strike from a big fish. I threw the flies right back in there and this time I felt a tug and no fish! What the hell! Jeff gave me a large articulated streamer and the fish went after it a third time and I STILL missed the connection. It was a frustrating moment, but exciting nonetheless. We migrated upstream to the head of a run that tailed out near some brush. Jeff told me to work my way down with my streamers, casting across and swinging them down. As I made my way downcasting and swinging, a leviathan jumped out at my flies and missed them altogether. I felt my heart sink and looked over at Jeff in disbelief. He fell to his knees, and we were both stunned. “Why does this keep happening?!” was all I could think. I made another cast, and immediately the fish was on. Jeff jumped to his feet, grabbed his net, and scooped up one of the largest brown trout I have ever seen in my life. We took some photos, released the beast, and giggled like little girls. It was one of those moments when we realized why fish- and we saw the reason right in front of us. Success.

The beast.

We continued to fish streamers throughout the rest of the day and managed to land some more beautiful specimens. I presented my streamer to a fish sipping dry flies in a back eddy that followed it across the main current, over a shallow sandbar- and when I only had three feet of leader out from the tip of my rod, the brown jumped out of the water when slamming the fly. To end an outstanding day, we experienced a PMD hatch that the fish were very aware of. We found a pod of rising fish and managed to land a few more before heading back to the ranch.

A flawless brown that Jeff took on a well-presented PMD pattern.

Jeff with a streamer-eating rainbow on his first cast of the day.

For more info on A Bar A Ranch, head to their website. 

5 Reasons Bull Trout Should Be On The Top of Your Bucket List

Some photos and words from the Bull Trout Locals: @Back Country Pools 

Reason # 1 These Fish are at the top of the Food Chain
Bull trout are generally the top predators in a river ecosystem – Anyone who has fished for a bull trout has experienced having a Cutthroat Trout on your line, and a bull trout comes out of nowhere to hammer it off your line. These fish are mean, and hungry!

Reason #2: These Fish are BIG
With a hefty diet of cutthroat trout and mountain whitefish, bull trout grow to be the largest native trout species in our region (British Columbia). They also boast a lifespan of around 12 years, giving them plenty of time to grow. We have personally pulled out plenty of fish in the 30-40 inch range… Who doesn’t want to catch a trout that big?

Reason # 3: Location - It’s like looking for a new house… Location matters!
Bull trout are native throughout the Pacific Northwest. You have to pack your bags and come west to chase these trout. The good news is that you will be surrounded by mountains, canyons, and crystal clear water… Even if you’re not having much luck catching fish, take one look around and you will be mesmerized by the surrounding beauty.

Reason Número Cuatro: THE COLORS!
During migration and spawning, bull trout are suited up with some of the prettiest colors a trout can have. Yellow, Orange, Pink, Green… Depending on the habitat and river of residency, these fish will always have unique and spectacular colorations. When you land a fish after fighting it for 20 minutes, you can’t help but admire its beauty.

Last But Not Least #5: These Fish are Protected
In a lot of regions including Canada and the United States, Bull Trout are protected, meaning catch and release only. This practice keeps the bull trout population strong, making it fun for everyone to come back year after year to fish and enjoy a day on the river.

The Back Country Pool crew did an awesome job on the Flylords Snapchat Takeover this summer. They live in an incredible location, and if you want to follow one of the best Bull Trout pages on Instagram, Check them out!

FlyLords Presents: TroutLandia

The flyfishing community is so small and badass that sometimes you are offered an opportunity you just can’t pass up. When Will Taylor of @flyshopco sent me a message to come down and check out a stretch of private water in Blue Ridge Georgia, I obviously said yes. Walking through the lush farms and cow pastures, into a dense forest, Will introduced me to a stretch of water that was literally trout heaven. Now I won’t mistake this type of fishing for hunting wild fish in the backcountry of Montana or New Zealand, it’s a little different. You don’t necessarily have to put the same amount of work in here to come out with a trophy fish. That being said, the fishing was technical, intriguing, and was no doubt, one of the most fun and memorable experiences of my life. The fish are large, mean, and incredibly beautiful…

I would also like to give a shoutout to the camera dude, Dunn Fout. Running behind us with all his equipment to capture the perfect moments was not easy, but he crushed. Also Amberjack Outfitters, for making this video possible.

 Make sure you follow Will on Snapchat: FlyShopCo

Team USA shooting for Gold in Flyfishing World Championship

An update from Cam Chioffi: reporting live from the World Youth Fly Fishing Championship in Galacia, Spain.

“We are currently in 5th place, but gaining momentum”. The Hume River is a big clear river that we’ve been dominating on. It holds sea run trout and wild browns. Coming from the US, it’s more our water type and style of fishing. All other venues aren’t deep or fast enough to nymph. These are super technical rivers, with low water and mainly dry fly fishing to small wild browns.”

Photo Essay: Conversations in Montana

A short essay about the future of fly fishing, from the boys at Yellow Tree Fly Fishing

 “Should we fish the Mo today, or go do something weird in bear country?” “Should we drink PBR for breakfast, or go with the classic bacon, eggs, and Jim Beam combo?” Two questions – the only two that ever seem to come up in conversation in Craig, Mt.  Don’t get me wrong, we talk about fishing a lot, we just happen to drink while we do it. When we aren’t working in the shop, you can be pretty certain that we are getting after it on a stream somewhere. 

There is plenty of ridiculously good water within two hours of Craig. Yet, the natural first choice will always be the Missouri River. Our campers (total pieces of shit) are a double haul away from the Mo. The main persuader though is the fact that some of the most prolific hatches in North America occur on the Mo. Thousands of fish per mile all looking up to the surface for their next meal. There are so many Caddis that you are practically breathing them in during the thick of the afternoon hatch, and Trico columns in the morning that look like clouds of smoke. The water is completely covered in bugs, and the fish will sip dries all day during most of the summer. Afternoon floats can be pure insanity with loads of fish in the twenty-inch range on dries, and plenty of shenanigans on the boat. People flock from all over to try their luck at the huge dry fly eating monsters that lurk in the Mo. Unfortunately for people like us, temporary Craig locals, that means big crowds of middle-aged men hogging our favorite spots. This sudden surge of old dudes is also known as the güggen hatch, and it is prolific. We mean wow, holy shit it’s bad. To escape the madness, we head to more unknown locations with some bear spray and beer (must haves for all Montana adventures). 

Usually, the booze gets the best of us on the late nights when we are up planning what we are going to do on the upcoming off days. Inevitably, our conversations spiral into all sorts of weirdness. We have noticed a reoccurring discussion that is relevant to Western Montana backcountry fishing. Simply put, sometimes we demolish affordable beer and talk about how we wish people would go explore more often.