Music fills the truck, streams out the windows
Guitar riffs crying, drifting where the wind goes,
Roll up, slide out,
Rig a rod, fly doubt,
Yeah. That one... Knot it.
...continue reading "Evening run, Black Drum"
Music fills the truck, streams out the windows
Guitar riffs crying, drifting where the wind goes,
Roll up, slide out,
Rig a rod, fly doubt,
Yeah. That one... Knot it.
...continue reading "Evening run, Black Drum"
I got the word via text – water looked good, the mackerel were in, and Chris just caught another one. I couldn’t jump in the truck fast enough. “Smacks” are toothy speedsters, usually the first pelagic fish to move in near shore and present fly chuckers a chance from the jetty. A small, flashy fly to imitate the anchovies that were schooled in abundance around the granite slabs, and it was game on.