When I was 14 years old, I used to spend my summers with my Grandfather in Northern Maine fishing for wild native brookies. From then on, I was hooked! LINK
More on the Manhattan Fly post. Capt. Chris Hessert is pictured above with some torpedoes from last year. We've known him for almost two years and have yet to make it back East to sling with him. What the hell is wrong with us?
One early morning, we got out to Ambrose Tower - choppy water, 2 to 3 footers - it didn't look good. Two hours later, the sun was out and the water turned to glass. Out of nowhere, skip jacks and blue fin tuna were bustin' everywhere! If we weren't busy enough battling the torpedoes, 15-pound (plus!) Mahi break in to the mix (jumping for max air). The bait was so thick, it was scattering at the bow of the boat. LINK
In 1992 my best fishing friend took me on an expedition to a local river in Alaska, determined to demonstrate how exciting dry fly fishing for arctic grayling can be. Thirty out-of-water explosions by 16-18 inch grayling on a #12 tan elk hair caddis and I was 'hooked' for life. LINK