They say with the right light you can see figures in the mountains that surround Fernie. And with a blue sky, you can see monster Bull Trout come from the depths of even...
Author - lunker
I can’t help but imagine Richard Brautigan sipping on Dickel and fishing for trout off the bottom of the Yellowstone River. He complains about the sun, he catches...
When Rattlesnakes become giant monsters, and you see them around corners lurking, ready to take a bite out of any dangling leg muscle. And the bears appear from bushes...
Dirt roads with stones that you’ve named old names and skipped across rivers on ranches with five fences and three fences, and gates that must be closed both times...
Shoulders, rubbing against boulders, trying to not only hold one side of a flat rock but casting frantically to reach a shore thirty feet away. When the obstacle in...
Memories I wish I had, of giant rivers with small dirt roads next to them. When the fishermen didn’t go past the ten mile marker and the testicle festival lasted...
It’s the small things that keep me going back to the rivers. The way tree-roots look when the water washes back their soil, leaving flimsy tentacles, dangling and naked...
The storm clouds come when they want to, with howling grumbles they balloon. Pouting over valleys and casting shadows on tree nests and cigar smoke. They eat prairie...