A personal journal entry from a day not to distant....

I'm not much of a writer, my photograph's haven't graced the pages of "The Drake" or "Fly Fishing Journal". There are many bills waiting for me each time I return to civilization, the mail box is full of out of date catalogs and junk. The social life is basically nonexistent, my friends are few in number and scattered around the country.

What I do have are sunsets unhindered by smog, stars that don't have to battle city lights to shine down on the earth. My life has been designed to the sole purpose of fishing, both saltwater and fly fishing lakes and rivers, the finest the United States has to offer. For years upon years saltwater has flowed through my veins, freshwater has provided a relief of relaxation. Not really relaxation, but a change that needs to occur from the everyday work and long hours of life on a boat. I call the Pacific ocean my office and the rocky mountains of Idaho, Montana and Wyoming my lounge. I am the new face at your local reservoir that keeps pace with the guides. I am the guy that collects all those wonderful tunas, sharks and dorados(dolphin fish) you watch swimming around in the Monterey bay Aquarium. I am the guy driving the skiff through heavy surf to chase Bluefin Trevally.