Summer 2018 issue cover

Keep It Cool
Summer '18.

Big Cuban largemouth, Pennsylvania brookies, Mexican tarpon, Wisconsin muskies, Bahamian bonefish, Maine caddis, SoCal bassin’, flyfishing FOMO, Grateful Dead dude, the Metolius, the Animas, the Bighorn, the John Day, Honduras, Michigan after dark, coming out of the bobber closet, and a really sad story from a firefighter

Sun Sun
CARS THAT SWAMP PEOPLE DRIVE. PHOTO BY ANDREW GILBERT.
CARS THAT SWAMP PEOPLE DRIVE. PHOTO BY ANDREW GILBERT.

Cruising the Keys

In late October of 2013, Tom Bie, editor of The Drake, sent me an email:

"CLYDE IS PARKED on 2nd floor, row E, space 14, in the garage for American Airlines, right next to an emergency phone. He is gassed and ready to go, but keep in mind he is 40 years old, with almost 100k miles, and a lot of quirks. You need to take it easy at first. For example, a LOT of play in the steering."

Central Oregon nothingness.
Central Oregon nothingness.

A different take on Wild and Scenic Rivers

When I opened the car door, a mangy border collie barked and charged at us. Mike Murtha yelled, and the dog backed off. Mike was in his 80s and wore a dusty-brimmed Stetson and tattered Wranglers. He smoked Camels, and his hands resembled the harsh, cracked earth of the surrounding desert. Tin cans filled with cigarette butts cluttered his porch. We sat on a muddy couch and drank Jack Daniels as Mike told stories of hunting mule deer, and talked about what the John Day was like before rafters, and before regulations limited grazing.

MISKITO MACHINATIONS
MISKITO MACHINATIONS

In Honduras, some mysteries are better left unsolved

I'm not sure I want the Miskitos back in camp. Rules are different here. Maybe there are no rules. They want gas this time. They also want weed: "Fuma?" We give it to them. They smoke it in front of our camp. We've given them sliced pineapple, five-gallon jugs of water, rice and beans. They want the weed more than any of it.

GO FISHING TODAY, ALONE, AS A GIFT TO YOUR SPOUSE.
GO FISHING TODAY, ALONE, AS A GIFT TO YOUR SPOUSE.

The gift of missing me

LAST SUMMER, SITTING QUIETLY on a stump smoking a fine-smelling cigar, no doubt rolled on the thighs of an elderly Cuban woman, I heard one of the greatest lines ever muttered by a fellow brother of the flyfishing fraternity. In many ways it encapsulated subconscious thoughts I would like to think I am capable of, yet rarely produce. As with so many iconoclastic ideas, its genius was in its simplicity.

a classic salmon fly tied without classic animal feathers.
a classic salmon fly tied without classic animal feathers.

Author Kirk W. Johnson takes on classic flytying's excommunicated flautist

The best thing about a nightmare is the split-second you wake up and realize it was only a dream. Author Kirk W. Johnson skipped that moment, when, on December 29, 2005, he sleepwalked out of his second-floor hotel window in what he describes in the prologue of his new book, The Feather Thief, as a "PTSD-triggered fugue state." Regaining consciousness on the concrete below, his nightmare was just beginning.

Lemieux, with a steal your face salmon
Lemieux, with a steal your face salmon

David Lemieux's long, strange trip

David Lemieux wears many hats, and every one of them bears a "Steal Your Face" logo. He's the official Grateful Dead archivist. He's also the Dead's legacy manager with Rhino Records, the host of "Today in Grateful Dead History" on Sirius XM radio's Grateful Dead channel, and a writer for the Dead's official website, Dead.net. For nearly 20 years—and, really, since he was 13 years old—Lemieux has built his life around the Dead. Now 47, he's made a career out of the music that he loves. He handpicks the recordings for the band's archival releases, known as "Dave's Picks" (Formerly "Dick's Picks," after Lemieux's mentor, the late Dick Latvala). He also produces a Grateful Dead box set every year, and was the music producer for last year's Grateful Dead documentary, Long Strange Trip, which was nominated for a Grammy.