Back Issue Content: 2016


Deli Meat

On the road to recovery

Cleaning a meat slicer requires a certain kind of finesse. It takes concentration, patience, and that funny muscle in your upper forearm. I’m standing awkwardly behind the glass counter at Terri's Deli in upstate New York, my oddly shaped teenage torso hunched over the slicer. My toothpick arms move carefully back and forth as my fingers get raisin-y from clutching the bleach-stained towel. With every stroke I remove small bits of Boar's Head from the crevasses in our world-class Hobart. One eye one the clock, I begin to move rapidly. 

No buff?  This guy'll never make it.

Veterans at guide-training school can totally tell who ain't gonna make it.

After just two days of Western Montana's “Get Your Guide On" Flyfishing Guide School, seasoned two-year vets Maddox and Karter say they can totally separate the future guides from the wannabees. Here's a partial list of giveaway blunders they have witnessed:

The harsh smells of a hardworking companion

The inaugural unfurling took place four years ago in Yellowstone, on Slough Creek's high meadow reaches. Plush 650-fill down internals provided a cozy bulwark against the still frigid nighttime lows of early spring. Her rugged inflatable underside took the edge off pointy rocks and smothered knobby roots for a comfortable night's slumber. While her lightweight performance, plus “mateable-zipper” convenience, ensured long-haul portability, and the allure of sex in the woods.

Déjà vu and the creation of Grand Teton National Park

EVEN IN THE END, Cliff Hansen—one of the most influential advocates of local control and state rights in Wyoming history—thought it was a good idea. But thank the river gods he didn’t get his way back in the day. Otherwise, the Snake River in what is now Grand Teton National Park would be a whole lot different.

Now in the upper river, are snakeheads here to stay?

THERE ARE MANY SLIMY and unappealing things in Washington, D.C.—politicians, attorneys, lobbyists—but flyfisher Austin Murphy is interested in just one: the northern snakehead, also known as the Potomac Pike or the fearsome-sounding Frankenfish, named for its seemingly unnatural ability to move on land, live for days out of water breathing air, secrete mucus from its thick skin, and eat just about anything it can fit in its mouth.