Comedian Henny Youngman once said, “A self-taught man usually has a poor teacher and worse student.” After fly-fishing with a local guide, I would have to agree.
I have always described myself as self-taught fly fisherman. It was through trial and error that I learned how to tie a blood knot, cast a line and convince a trout to take my fly. Somehow, I managed to catch my fair share of fish over the years.
As it turns out, I have been doing a lot of things wrong. Read More
A long, long time ago, I was an avid skier. As a teenager living in the Black Hills, I spent my winters racing down Deer Mountain pretending to be Franz Klammer in the ‘76 Winter Olympics.
It was what I did and who I was.
At the time, I didn’t understand that life is a book comprised of many chapters. I thought I would always be a skier and that my obituary would include the words, “80 years old” and “tragic ski jumping accident.” Read More
I can’t remember how to tie a fly. When I lived in the Black Hills and fly-fished regularly, I could (almost) tie a woolly bugger blindfolded. Now, I need an instruction manual with large type and easy-to-understand diagrams to guide me step-by-step.
Of course, it has been nearly 20 years since I lived in a zip code with a trout stream. Forgetting how to tie flies was probably inevitable. Still, it pains me to think I lost something that was once so important to me.
If you don’t understand how tying flies can be “important,” allow me to provide a quick overview: Read More
The Dakota Sky 