Winter Motivation for Anglers by Mark Usyk
Adirondack Fishing in the 1930s – By Vincent Engels.
JP has this for sale on the site, and between that and the fact that this was a book about fishing the Adirondacks in a bygone era, I just had to read it. It didn’t disappoint. Stories of places familiar to many hikers and fisherman today are told in a time when there was no GPS, only rough roads at best, and no easy way in. Tales from smoke seen rising from hermit camps from fire towers, to trout the size of footballs in places that today you’d be hard pressed to find anything but stocked fish or at most invasive bass. The author seems to have little trouble transporting you right there alongside the action, and not too far into the very first story you’ll be wanting to get your maps out, wishing you were born generations earlier. If you don’t want to run for the Adirondacks after reading this, you better check your pulse, because you might be dead.
Winter Reading for the Angler by Mark Usyk
There’s never enough time for fishing lately. But even though time on the water is more valuable than gold this time of year you can always find something to connect you to the waters and the fish once the work day is done and dinner has been eaten, once the kids have gone to bed, and for me, once the wife has turned on that godforsaken Hallmark Channel where every movie seems to have the same plot and the same two female lead actors. I know when she flips to that channel without even being in the room. I can only describe it as a disturbance in the force. It’s as if a million voices suddenly cry out in terror and are then suddenly silenced. But like I said, even though it’s dark before dinner and icicles hang from the eaves outside the windows there’s always a way to stay true to the cause. For one thing there’s fly tying, and for another there’s a never ending list of books filled with fishing stories.
Hot Rods and (Fly Fishing) Tune-Ups by Mark Usyk
I just started this too late. I wish I’d found fly fishing much sooner in life. It could’ve saved me a lot of heart ache. A lot of anger. A lot of depression. What you’ve got to understand is that even though I’ve always fished, there were a great number of years in between being a long haired head banger in high school stricken by the need to hunt bass in farm ponds with spinning rods and these years now, that I find time fleeting and calendars shrinking as I dream of chasing fish to the ends of the earth with a fly rod. The years in between were a distracted time the way I see it. There was always a fishing rod leaning in a corner of a closet or the garage that came out a couple times a year, but there were too many things taking my full attention, leaving almost none for the fish and the places they could be found.