Allan Sutley

Lake Creek Alaska

Woo hoo!  Herman’s raspy exclamation cut through the drizzle and announced the hook up of another Lake Creek salmon. Bev and I were finally in Alaska on the wilderness float trip that we had spent so many hours and days dreaming of and prepping for. Lake Chelatna, the source of Lake Creek, is just forty-five […]

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Switching Hats

Bev and I were fishing Black Moshannon Creek a few miles below the lake. The stream there is small,and flows through mature forest of oak and hemlock, the branches of which, often present a considerable obstacle when trying to cast a fly. Bev was having a bit of trouble getting her fly in just the

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Yellowstone

There are many ways to die in Yellowstone National Park. There is even a book on the subject sold in all the gift shops. Falling off of things – like cliffs (and railings put there to keep you from falling off cliffs) and into things – like boiling hot water are some of the more

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Catching October

I once caught October and held it wriggling in my hand before it swam away. Smaller than one might expect – only fourteen inches long – yet, there it was. The trout’s flank – a shining field of goldenrod backlit by the setting sun. Deep, olive-green hemlock forests shot through with somber browns of oak

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Quitting Time

To the mild (I hope) annoyance of several people with whom I have fished, I have a hard time calling it quits. When I was a boy and fishing at the lake with Dad there would at some point come the inevitable announcement “come on Allan its time to go home.” I always followed this

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