Puppy Love

Guest Blogger: Michael Vorhis, author of ARCHANGEL suspense thriller, OPEN DISTANCE adventure thriller & more to come

I’m a Dad again! I have a new son. He’s now about 11 weeks old. His name is Ruffles. Here’s a picture:

This kid is a handful, but we’re trai…no, make that, he’s training us. And although he’s about as much a watchdog or a hunting dog as a goldfish would be, and although his primary mission in life seems to be acting like a goofball, he has one stellar attribute: His super-soft ginger-colored wavy locks are just begging to be used on a trout fly.

So I stole a tiny snip while he terrorized his squeaky squirrel toy, and tied a couple up.  Here’s the recipe:

Hook:  #14 Gamakatsu “Executive Series, Keel-Balance” C13U
Body:  SemperFli “Dirty Bug Yarn,” Caddis Brown
Weight:  Size 0.010 weight wire, your choice of type
Ribbing:  Wapsi Ultra- wire, red, small
Thread:  Dark brown or black
Hackle:  One small light brown partridge soft-hackle feather
Tail:  A small snip of hair from Ruffles The Puppy

Continue reading → Puppy Love

Night Moves: What I learned Fishing at Night

Night Moves: What I Learned Casting into the Dark

By Jim DuFresne

For an evening float on the Upper Manistee River Spence Vanderhoof and I met Ed McCoy at an access site around 5 p.m. where a party of canoers, who had too much to drink that day, didn’t have enough patience with each other that night so someone had to call the police. Four police cars arrived and blocked us in the parking lot for 20 minutes before they allowed Ed to pull out in his pick-up with a driftboat in tow.

By the time we drove upriver to our put-in site and slide the driftboat down the wooden ramp into the current, it was almost 7 p.m. Just as well. This day had been brutally muggy and hot even for a week that was unseasonably warm. Ed, a guide with Mangled Fly Outfitters, knew we were still an hour away from rigging up our rods.

So we just floated for a while, eating sandwiches while drifting around one river bend after another. Soon the Manistee was ours, the paddlers and inner tubers were long gone. So were most other anglers. Wildlife slowly began to appear with Spence happily naming the ones with wings.

Then we saw the first rings of a feeding trout.

“When you take the time to listen to nature,” Ed said, “she tells you things.”

Continue reading → Night Moves: What I learned Fishing at Night

Trout Shack

Guest Blogger: Brandon Sausner

Last winter I bought a run-down house in Deposit N.Y. on the Upper west Branch of the Delaware river. It was once the one room schoolhouse for the town of Deposit New York. For the last twenty years or more it was a storage shack with no electricity or plumbing owned by a man from New York City who also had a mobile home across the street. The man had a dream where he sold one property and built on to my shack and spent summers in it with his wife. It seems time and age caught up with him and at age eighty-five he sold the property to me. He said that after his wife passed, he just didn’t come up to the Catskills anymore. I bought it from him and hatched my dry fly getaway dreams.

The property around the cabin was covered with ticks and weeds and general debris. The shack itself was solid enough to rebuild but generally a total disaster. Some of my buddies my stickers with a picture of the place that said “Brandy’s trout shack” and put them everywhere I would find them but most were eager to lend a hand at getting the place rolling. It took two forty-yard dumpsters, several trailer trips to the dump and everyone I could find to get the place turned around. It also includes, a new roof, a new well pump and tank, and brand new two-hundred-amp panel.

I bought this cabin for many reasons. The two most prominent are that I love fishing that river and I want a place for me and all my friends and family to gather and enjoy it. I always come to understand things a little to late. The local fly shop closed, and I never understood what it meant to the local fishing community until after. Covid hit and I finally realize that fishing with friends and creating an experience is more valuable than I had ever known. I watched my father work until he was 67 years old and then move to his little house on a trout river. I’m not waiting that long and I’m taking my buddies with me.