- Photography by: Adam Tavender
Photographer: Adam Tavender
Subject: Right from the start of a recent Babine River raft trip a friend from Colorado talked about firing off a few of the shotgun shells he’d brought. He called them Dragon’s Breath, so I knew they must be good. Ostensibly, they’re meant to frighten away nosy bears.
- By: Dave Karczynski
- Photography by: Tom Hazelton
AFTER A 13-HOUR SOUTH-BY-SOUTHEAST voyage, Tom Hazelton and I have finally arrived in the Cumberland Plateau, and a Tennessee native—Towee Boats’ Captain Todd Gregory—is giving us a tour.
We take in ancient, tortoise-dome mountains, woodplank barbecue shacks, and yes, it’s true, the Tennessee trinity—that being Dollar Generals, churches and sex shops.
- By: Dave Sherwood
If fly-fishing had a range, like a species of bird or plant, it might be considered “spotty.”
Populations of fly anglers have long been restricted to places where a rare combination of wealth, leisure time and education spawn the perfect microclimate. On a map, the United States and Great Britain stick out, with scattered migrants who flock seasonally to high-mountain or tropical habitats.
- By: Tom Sadler
- By: John Gierach
- Illustrations by: Bob White
I went fishing a few days after my mother died, and not long before her funeral. This was after I asked my sister if she needed me for anything and she told me, no, everything was being taken care of. The subtext here is that I’m not the one in the family anyone would trust with such important arrangements.