Texoma Stripers!

Texoma Stripers!

“We’re almost over the top of them . . . start dropping ‘em. When they hit bottom, crank up three rounds.” Chris Carey instructed Luke Clayton, Jeff Rice and me. Turning toward me specifically, Chris said with a chuckle, “Larry start stripping!” Smiling wryly, I said:...

The Fog

The Fog

The battered F-150 pulled onto the beach at 3:00 a.m. The air, heavy with fog, smelled of rotting kelp, salt air and wet sand. It was a scent that he seldom thought of, but today it made him briefly reflective. I took this crap for granted, he thought. If a smell...

A Door in the Woods

A Door in the Woods

“Good boy, Rex, easy now. Whoa on the bird!” The gathering gloaming of the approaching evening made it rather difficult to see what I was doing as I fought my way through the wicked tangle of greenbrier vines draped across the dense trees in front of me. I struggled...

“Caring Karen” Messer Goes Bream Fishing

“Caring Karen” Messer Goes Bream Fishing

As those who have read previous episodes of the ongoing misadventures of Mollygrubs Messer will recall, his nosy, busybody, and termagant-in-training mother, who in rather grandiose fashion styled herself “Caring Karen,” was, to use a description common in the...

Thumping “Button Trout!”

Thumping “Button Trout!”

It’s like someone thumped the middle of your back with their fist, firmly, but not too hard,” Capt. Justin explained.  “When you feel that, tighten your line and strike the fish with everything you’ve got.”  But before the “thump” happened, I needed to sling a...

Fishing Up Emmaus Way

Fishing Up Emmaus Way

To this day I’m still not certain where he came from, and for the briefest moment he startled me. It doesn’t much matter where I have been or where I am going; I still can’t quite decide which is the better part of a fly fishing day, the Going In or the Coming Out. It...