Freshwater

The author took a day off last May and went on an 11-hour, 120-mile, three-stream fishing marathon.

A quest for the fierce golden dorado takes the author into the remote Bolivian jungle

The cure for a case of Montana cabin fever is a day on the ice

Fishing the challenging trout streams of Devon, England

It’s no secret that fishing and drinking go hand in hand, and in Livingston, Montana, that means saddling up to the Murray Bar

After a frightening diagnosis, a father and son spend a week immersed in an autumn run

There’s something about bait fishing that has captivated the writer since he was a boy and learned that fish don’t like raisins

Ponds used for watering livestock also serve as prime fishing holes for a Texas family

Five writers unravel why these fish became their favorites

The fly fisherman has ‘this thing’ for browns rising to mayflies

A lifelong infatuation with irascible, beautiful, boulder-leaping rainbows

Tiny trout and memories of young love swirl in ribbons of light and shadows in a pool beneath the cedars

A poem by R.T. Smith

Her paintings of trout trumpet her passion for color and her love of fly-fishing.

Horses graze in a pasture at Los Torreones Lodge in the Simpson River Valley. The Andes tower in the background.

There’s a spot in Chilean Patagonia near the confluence of two rivers, one aquamarine-clear and the other the color of earthen tea, where Pancho Salas and his family call home.

At the risk of offending the people I fish and break bread with, I’m just going to say it: I don’t get Michigan in the winter.

Discover why the Rainbow King Lodge has earned international acclaim.

One of the worst algae blooms in memory fouled the St. Lucie River and Indian River Lagoon this summer, killing a variety of marine life, from fish to seagrass.

A fine mist rises from the St. Lucie Lock and Dam as Capt. Mike Conner peers down at a slimy green film of algae.

Scores of shadaholics are drawn into the new season as American shad leave the salt and move upriver to spawn.

The first time I ever paid to go fishing was when I took a trip to Iceland in 1980. I had never fished for Atlantic salmon and was looking for some romance, as well as for a new experience in a new land.

The grande dame of fly-fishing, Joan Salvato Wulff combines grace, beauty and an uncanny understanding of the mechanics of the cast

A long journey is almost complete for these native chum salmon.

A timeless story of closing the loop and returning to one’s natal waters

Here at last was an almost-virgin, freestone stream that looked like the streams that Arnold Gingrich, Ray Bergman and A.J. McClane had written about.