Big Flies and Bull Trout

Fishing trips are hard, specially when that trip involves crossing an international border, and when your targeted species is a migratory fish. Limited amount of fishing time, and the feeling of never being able to fish these waters again sets in and the pressure is on. Normally these types of trips are more likely to end in disappointment then in glory. But we sent it anyway, I mean you never know when you would be this close to THE place to catch Bull trout, during THE best time of year to find them. British Colombia here we come. 

Read More
TroutJames MugeleBull Trout
Flat Creek

There is a small creek right outside of Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Heaven and Hell, together, in one smooth and slithering little stretch of water. It is a place where you crouch behind tall grass, and watch mayfly duns and spinners get sipped, effortlessly off the surface. No fishing, just watching. A place where you can spend twelve hours casting at rising fish without landing one, and a place where your two weight rod can get absolutely throttled in a split second. The Flat Creek.

Read More
James Mugele
October Caddis

    When you are tying up big foam October Caddis flies you know you are doing something right. And when you are being pelted by them as you are tying them, you know you are definitely doing something right. We were tying by light of our lantern- a flashlight pointed to a half-filled vegetable oil jug, and by the end of the night dozens of moths were stuck to it. Big caddis everywhere. In all of our poor planning of this trip, we managed to time this hatch perfectly. 

Read More
James Mugele
SANDWICHES, PBR AND MUSKY

A lot of flies were tied this past winter at the house of flies- I mean a lot. Nights filled with PBR pounders and red wine, trimming bucktail into tapered sections along various articulated hook shanks. We were on one for sure, desperately waiting for the last weekend of May, to chase a fish we are truly lucky to be able to hunt with fly rods. Musky.

Read More
James Mugele
A STORY OF ME LOSING TO A FISH

Mann, its been so long since I felt a fish on a rod I think I forgot what its like- holding the bobbing weight, watching your line as it tightens and shoots upstream, seeing the flash from belly rolls underneath the surface, the mental chaos. I miss it. That’s also probably why when I finally hooked into one, I missed it. The battle was short, and line shot back, tangling with the bushes behind me. I forgot what to do. 

Read More
James Mugele
A RAINY DAY IN PARADISE

You’re sitting under a big pine tree, using it as an umbrella as the rain begins to pick up. You had expected some rain today, but not this soon. Luckily, on your walk to The Bend you noticed the open space under the low hanging branches, and how all the stacking layers of pine needles would act like shingles against hard rain. You were right, and looking behind the tree you see a perfect sitting log. Someone else had the same idea. 

Read More
CHASING PERMIT

“Out here they hit hard!”

 Was that a fish or a semi doing 80? Line burned my fingers as it shot back to the reel, and the coil at my side disappeared in a split second. Fish on. But KP said this in a way that made it seem funny, and laughed at how unprepared for that take I was. This was the first permit I hooked into off Turneffe Atoll, Belize.

Read More
SPIT-BALIN

Do you love what you do, because it’s what you do? Or do you do what you do because it’s what you love? As a PigFarmer, I am a firm believer in the philosophy of finding, and pursuing passion. We know that the world would be a better place if everyone desperately chased their dreams, something that we are only told as kids growing up. I challenge you to continue to do so until it has become a reality, no matter how old. Somewhere along the path of scholarly education we are conditioned to accept reality. As if anybody knows what reality truly is… 

Read More
2016James Mugele
UNEXPECTED GLORY

Anglers depend on Mother Nature. We bow in her presence when rewarded with fish, and we pray she is easy on us. She controls water conditions, fish behavior, and weather. Sometimes we try and outsmart her, thinking the water won’t be too high or too muddy after a week of hard rain. We tell ourselves the fish are still hungry.  A couple days ago a few of us departed on such a mission. Mother Nature won… No, actually, she kicked our asses.

Read More
PINK AND WHITE

A couple days ago we circled up around a long table littered with florescent feathers. Fly-fishing starts at the vice. Tequila shots, beers, and buffalo chicken dip that left Pike feelin it a few days later- we tie.  Steelhead flies, nymphs, streamers, and for me and Pike, a big articulated musky fly – we were heading out to secret waters that weekend to hunt. Musky flies are tough and require a lot of patience, perseverance, and booze. The longer the fly takes to tie, the more beer is consumed. Needless to say, the fly ended up in better shape than tier. Pink and white.

Read More
2015James MugeleMusky, flytying
NATIVE AMERICAN

Somewhere along the quest for Instagram fame, us anglers have been in search of that big fish. The big toothy bastard that will get you free shit or that epic salmon that makes you nut as you see it flying through the air. But honestly, fuck that. Who cares about the size of the fish you catch, really. Not what its about.

Read More
CONFESSIONS OF A FISHOHOLIC

I have a confession to make. To those of you who know me this may come as a shock but, I, Lenny Bones, am a bum. But not just your regular Church Street vagrant, although not too far off,  but rather a more practiced and tactical bum. A fish bum. This past summer for me consisted of minimal work hours and plenty of time on the water. To my parents quiet disapproval I have spent most of my time this summer figuring out how I could work less and fish more. Living the dream. Most people my age used the summer to concentrate on internships and to build resume pleasers, I followed a different path. A path that somehow seemed to lead Boh and I straight to the water again and again.

Read More
DRAGON HUNT

It’s 3:45 AM. We get in the car and hit up the local Foam Burger shop and send it to the river. Fishing stories are shared, but Pike does most of the story-telling. The funny thing about fishing for Esox is the more you want to catch one, the less likely it seems that one will take your fly. It is sporadic and chaotic. A slow twitching strip may entice a monster, just as a rapidly retrieved fly can produce a gentle follow, and even a kiss.

Read More
BIG SKY THINGS

”Fish miss us sometimes too. Due to the location of eyes on most fish, there is a short window right before the initial strike of the take when the fly is in a blind spot for the fish. We just tend to blame ourselves, but in reality, the fish miss too.” _ Coach

Read More
A PULASKI EASTER

Every spot has its master. The possessor of the knowledge of utmost importance and all things holy. For the Salmon River in Pulaski New York, his name is Stanley. With his swirling-ly regal and white mustache, you recognized him as a legend at first sight. And legend he was.

 

Read More
EARLY OTTER CREEK HUNT

I see Gaga on campus walking his rogue dog Tina. He doesn’t belong at the library, but he misses the campus scene. Can’t say I blame him. He tells me him and J are planning on fishing in the afternoon. J is skipping his last class. Looks like I am too. So I sit in my next class watching the second hand slowly dance around the clock face waiting in anticipation.

Read More
THE FINAL DAY

4:30 wake up call for me and Big One. Were on a mission for the giant Snook the local told us about in the canal in town. We get there at the perfect time. Unfortunately it seemed like the full moon disturbed the regular tide, and we did not see very many big fish. We had a couple chances, but nothing huge. But it was the day of our departure and we wouldn’t have been able to leave unless we got some fishing in.

Read More