By Phillip Potter, aka TarDevil

Driving to the river recently I passed an elderly fella walking by the road and he raised his hand to me as I drove by.  Got me wondering about salutations, waving, acknowledging folks ya don’t know – never met and perhaps never will.  Just a friendly nature?  The desire to impart a wee speck of goodwill and a warm “hello?” I dunno, do you? Continue Reading

By:  Phillip Potter, aka TarDevil

On a beautiful June day in 2007 I came to two important conclusion; 1) flyrods and sunglasses are perfect tools for something other than catching fish, and 2) ALWAYS bring my camera.

I ached all over.  I was so sunburned I glowed.  But it had been a satisfying day… not particularly productive (three smallies and several green sunfish caught and released) but six hours of blessed solitude on a gorgeous day. Continue Reading

By Phillip Potter, AKA TarDevil

Fly fishing has garnered the image of an elitist sport, reserved for the privileged with means and time to burn. The words “fly fishing” typic-ally conjure images of gents and ladies resplendent in the latest attire and equipment from the top shelves of the Orvis warehouse, deftly casting immaculately crafted imitations under directions from reputable well-paid guides to hungry rising trout. Continue Reading

By:  Phillip Potter, aka Tardevil

It was an annual ritual; my father and I flew west every August for a week of fishing and camping with my cousin Troy. We floated the famed Deschutes river for rainbows, waded the Salmon River for steelhead and fished for sturgeon in the Columbia. After several years of cramming a smorgasbord of adventures in one week, the three of us decided the most enjoyable and productive of our outings was casting from the north jetty at the mouth of the Columbia for a variety of fish, depending on the tide. Continue Reading

By: Tardevil

The debate occurs with regularity in forums, bait shops, and boats… which is better and does it matter – spincast or baitcast? Personally, I’m a longrodder eighty percent of the time. A couple years ago I’d say it was closer to ninety-five or one hundred percent; but age takes it toll and hereditary arthritis prevents me spending an entire day flinging a 6 wt. I give my wrist a break several times a day, and until recently – very recently, in fact – I reached for my Mitchel powered eight foot ultralight or my Ugly Stik mounted Shimano spincasters. Continue Reading