According to my buddy, English Jonny, I am an "award winning writer of some acclaim"* which likely means my fifteen minutes of fame have passed. I've published my work in The Drake, The Flyfish Journal, Pulp Fly: Volume 3, and Trout Magazine. I am also a regular contributor to Hatch Magazine. That said, I spend most of my time writing here**

I also managed to win a few awards recently for my writing.

Why I write this stuff
As noted in the tag line, this blog is a place for me to write stuff about fly fishing and fly fishing related matters. It started because I wanted a single place to put the fishing reports that I used to post on various fly fishing discussion forums. It's now something different.

The website's title, Sipping Emergers, relates to one of my favorite mental images of our sport. It's an image of a glassy pool. It's twilight in the summer. The air is cooling. I've rolled down my shirtsleeves after a warm afternoon in the sun and swapped out my sunglasses so I can peer into the gathering shadows. There's no visible hatch, no duns sailing on the water, although there might be a few bugs in the air. Something is about to happen but it hasn't yet started.

Off along the far bank, almost too far to cast to, a gentle ring forms on the water in the break between two overhanging mountain laurel shrubs. The smooth water looks black in the shadows and the ripples are edged in silver. The ring appears at regular intervals and is quickly erased by the gentle, yet persistent, current.  Perhaps those rings are formed by a snout barely breaking the water but more likely by the dorsal fin or tail of a trout as it lazily takes emergers just below the surface. I cast. And hope.

That's Sipping Emergers.

In retrospect, it probably also speaks to how one should read this blog. Take what looks real. Refuse that which doesn't. Make frustrating, random comments (but not too many).

I hope you enjoy what you read.
"We are nature too." -- Jim Harrison (incorrectly quoting Wm. Shakespeare, but getting it better)
 "I nestled closer and she lowered my head with her hands and rested my ear of her breast. 'Gosh,' I said.'" -- James Prosek, Early Love and Brook Trout
 "Pure pablum." -- Steve Zakur on James Prosek's Early Love and Brook Trout

These are a few of my favorite things

Below is a list, in no particular order, of my favorite posts on this blog (or elsewhere on the intertubes). I'll update it from time to time.

On the eradication of wayward Macks - I like this piece because it came out, whole cloth, in about thirty minutes. Sometimes you're inspired to something, this was such a thing. And it won me a trip to Yellowstone with Trout Unlimited and the National Park Service.

Heard around the campfire - John Gierach's Coffee. My wit and literary skills continue to amaze me. Imagine that.

Tiger Hunt - One of the most important milestones of any small stream angler.

Second to last summer - We're rapidly approaching that time when the kids will be gone. The fear of loss begins to intrude on one's thoughts.

Steelhead Camp - It was the best fishing trip ever that I unfortunately had to miss.

Pot meet Kettle -  My utter hypocrisy at fishing for large trout in privately stocked waters. But it was fun.

The fishing was hell - The Trout Underground and my buddy Mike provide inspiration for an unusual piece of fiction.

Black Friday - Traditions are a fine thing even when they don't go quite right.

Phriday Philosophy -  Pegging beads. Fishing over spawning fish. Why do we do what we do?

Peace, Snow, Skunk - Fishing with Jonny for Steelhead in classic Steelhead weather.

Stalking Small Mountain Streams - A small stream that I wished to fish for years and finally did.

Turkey Sandwiches and Fruitcake  - There's something about the rituals of fishing with good friends that makes the beautiful places we go so much better.

Farm Pond - Just knowing simple places like this exist is almost enough. But not quite. Fishing them completes the picture.

On the water, Deerfield River, 9.12 - Fishing with my family. Nothing better.

Madison, Gallatin, & Cutty Creek - Ditto

Fishing the High Country - Ditto, and in the land of Adams, Muir, Bierdstadt.

The Small Town River - Channeling Hemingway for no other reason that to see if it were possible. And to tell a story of a nice hour or so of fishing.

On Outdoor Writing - Nothing gets writers fired up like when you talk about writing.

If you're looking for my thoughts on leadership, you can find my writing on my day job at my personal leadership blog.

* Jonny has a way with words. I think he actually said "...of some small acclaim". I've taken liberties.
** In reality I spend most of my time writing corporate emails. The truth is ugly.

This is my buddy Jonny. He goes fishing without me and catches big fish. Bastard.

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