Friday, November 29, 2013 at 12:03AM 
A Montana river guide (and aspiring novelist) is a pro at taking corporate execs to the big trout – but meets his match when he lands two outlaw literary legends in his boat.
carl hiasson, fly fishing writing, jim harrison in Writing, fly fishing Friday, July 5, 2013 at 12:00AM 
Montana’s favorite fly fisherman detective is back on the case in this compelling follow-up to The Royal Wulff Murders.
When the graves of two men are discovered on Sphinx Mountain, Sheriff Martha Ettinger suspects murder. But with the only evidence a hole in a skull that might or might not have been caused by a bullet, she once more finds herself turning to private investigator Sean Stranahan for help. Stranahan already has a case, having been hired by a group of eccentric fly fishermen called The Madison River Liars and Fly Tiers Club to find a valuable fly that they suspect has been stolen. Could the disappearance of a vintage Gray Ghost from a riverside cabin in the Madison Valley be connected to the gray ghosts who haunt Sphinx Mountain?
fly fishing mystery, fly fishing writing, keith mcCafferty in Books, Writing Wednesday, July 3, 2013 at 12:01AM 
What made legislative aide Paul Moinester decide to exchange life on the Hill for the life of a wandering fly fisherman?
The fish, of course.
LINK (via: Outside)
Friday, May 24, 2013 at 12:00AM 
I know that the term for a skier who doesn’t have a clue what he is doing is a gaper, but what is the term for someone who doesn’t have a clue about fly fishing?
LINK (via: MK Livin)
fly fishing writing in Other Sites, Writing Thursday, March 14, 2013 at 12:02AM 
One of my favorite reads is Drive Nacho Drive, a journal of the travels of Brad and Sheena as they slowly circumnavigate the globe in their trusty 1984 Volkswagon Vanagon Nacho.
Brad, Sheena and Nacho are currently in South America where they have been doing a little fishing in the northern Lakes District of Patagonia. In this post titled, "The Worst Day of My Life," Brad writes about one of those defining lifetime angling moments.
Soon, my line was taut, and pointed straight into the dark water at my feet. I still couldn’t see the fish, but I could tell that it was right in front of me. Suddenly she twisted, revealing the side of her body. A blaze of silver the size of a toddler flashed from beneath, and again the expletive stuttered on my tongue.
“FUH-FUH-FUH…!”
drive nacho drive, fly fishing writing in Writing Thursday, February 21, 2013 at 12:00AM 
Some musings from Steve Schmidt post last year's IFTD in Reno.
Over three decades have passed since I got serious about fly-fishing. When I started there were no strike indicators, Al Gore had yet to invent the internet and in general there were fewer bodies on the water. Much has changed since then and some of it I find rather concerning, especially the short cuts we condone in an effort to make fishing with flies easier and more effective without regard for the affect some of these practices are having on the fly-fishing and the waters we fish.
LINK (via: Schmidt's Walkabouts)
