On the northern edge of the Driftless 

Lund’s opened its doors to the people of River Falls, Wisconsin in 1873. A. W. Lund Co. sold wooden carriages. As the town grew, the Lund family’s operation grew. In 1881, they opened a general store on Main Street that focused on hardware. The Kinnickinnic River ran behind the store and sometime in the 1970s, word began to spread about the quality of trout fishing on The Kinni. The hardware store added a flyfishing department with the intention of pulling a few bucks out of the trout-seeking, tweed-wearing visitors from the Twin Cities. Eventually the hardware store closed its doors.

National Park Service (NPS) killed a record 366,000 cutthroat-gobbling, nonnative lake trout in Yellowstone Lake this year. Part of the park’s desperate effort to restore tanking native cutthroat populations, the program has dispatched about 1.5 million lakers in the last five years.

More than a month has passed since work on a decrepit diversion dam sent a trout-killing mud slurry into Wyoming’s Shoshone River. And so far, the lethal discharge is still flowing strong.

Sportsman’s Finest. Austin, Texas

Texas is growing. Every month, thousands of people pack their bags and make the move to the Lone Star State, partly because it’s filled with opportunity and a thriving workforce. And as Austin spreads its arms, so spreads word-of-mouth about flyfishing in central Texas. In recent years, flyfishing has exploded in the heart of Texas Hill Country. This growing interest has also led to the growth of Sportsman’s Finest—a fly shop that supports the varied needs of outdoorsmen, especially flyfishers.

Finding Grace in the Rainforest
Finding Grace in the Rainforest

"My father was very sure about certain matters pertaining to the universe. To him, all good things—trout as well as eternal salvation—come by grace and grace comes by art and art does not come easy." —Norman MacLean

ABOUT TEN YEARS AGO, JAY BREVIK AND I SPENT A DAY FISHING several of the Olympic Peninsula's winter steelhead rivers. I don't remember where we started, probably the upper Hoh, because we both loved the wide open gravel bars up there. And I'm pretty sure we hit a little pool on the Calawah. The thing I know for certain is that we ended the day on the upper Sol Duc, on the selective fisheries, wild‐release water up by Sappho.

Steelheading the Babine is never easy, just worth it.

FLOWING WATER, BY DESIGN, HAS A SANCTIMONIOUS way of pre-qualifying its clientele. Gentle riffles and wide gravel bars lure the false-casting masses, and boiling black holes rimmed with mossy ledge rock frighten them away. That said, I suppose there's really no great mystery why the easy flows produce the fussy little degree-candidate fish, while the spiteful, intimidating rivers hide the gluttonous thugs.