Back Issue Content: 2010

  1. He regularly casts 80 to 100 feet, with no accuracy whatsoever.
  2. He doesn’t seem to think it’s in any way weird to fish in the dark, all night, every night, sometimes for weeks at a time.
  3. He thinks a 1/0 hook is small.
  4. He assumes that the hot chicks at Lighthouse Beach are checking him out because he’s an attractive, rugged outdoorsman, when they’re actually wondering why the trippy dude with the fishing pole is wearing a dishpan around his waist.
  5. He appears to hate bluefish more than any human has ever hated another living thing.
  6. He frequently uses a hundred-thousand-dollar, five-thousand-pound boat to catch a 20-ounce fish.
  7. He seems to enjoy fishing in areas with jumbo jet exhaust, Ferris wheels, power plants, the monstrous wakes of high-speed ferries, and what seems like every center-console boat ever produced since the dawn of time.

An excerpt from the winter/spring issue—on shelves now.

April rains are metaphysical fertilizers that pollinate your inner wuss, thus giving life to an emotional suckathon. This can threaten to close down winter steelhead season. Yet, despite few fresh upriver fish, with even fewer windows of fishable conditions, and with wet campfires that seldom aspire to more than smoke, it'd be criminal to deny April its due.