The Strange Saga of Henry Bauman
The place was called Boise City, which was something of a joke to anyone who had actually been there. It wasn’t even a town, much less a city—a few cleared fields around a dirt track where trappers and Indians pitched their teepees and caravans of covered wagons could...
Sporting Classics TV Season 8 Episode 3 Trailer
Make sure you don’t miss this week’s episode of Sporting Classics with Chris Dorsey, as we visit a bucket-list destination for bird hunters for an epic quail hunt at South Carolina’s Almost Heaven Plantation. The series airs on Outdoor Channel on Monday at...
The Boardman River Revisited: Busman’s Holiday on the Boardman
Twenty-five years had passed since I had gone fishing with the Smith brothers. Thirty years had passed since I had seen the Love Shack. I had never seen Oz. Jake was sleeping in his tent by the river. Chris was sleeping back home with his wife. I was sleeping with Oz...
Night Fishing
As a boy learning to fly-fish for trout on the name branded freestone flows and limestone streams of Pennsylvania, fishing hours were strictly entrenched into my sporting ethics. No matter if fish were still sipping spinners, 30 minutes after sunset our flies were...
Why the Wye
An act of God combined with a dash of Grace creates a trout stream of royal proportion. Not far from the dirt path was a field thick with wide stalks of dark green, calf-high grass. To get a glimpse of the sun, wildflowers in nearly every hue—soft purple and blue,...
Tutorial in Microcosm
Bream fishing with a fly rod is God’s way of making up for lack of funds. The old man wheezed as he made his way up the bank from the boat. Had to sit awhile on a stump to get his breath and reorganize his lungs. He wished he really could reorganize them. There’d...
Nervous Water
A father and son are finally reunited, on a secluded lake high in the Colorado Rockies. On a clear June morning, I took my father bass fishing into the Colorado Rocky Mountains. I had not seen or spoken to him in ten years. We ate an early breakfast at a truck stop on...
Ted Williams: The Greatest Hitter (and Fisherman) There Ever Was
They called him The Kid. The Splendid Splinter. Teddy Ballgame. And by his own admission all he wanted in life was to walk down the street and have people say, “There goes Ted Williams, the greatest hitter there ever was.” Arguably the best player the game has ever...
Failure To Launch
What on earth? I could swear I had the wheel perfectly straight. My face burned as I pulled forward again. Another restart. Another apologetic wave.