As the days get a little warmer, and the evenings stay light a little longer I can’t keep my attention on the slopes, and I start to head to the river. Spring in Colorado is cold, and the water is ...

Back in the day, if you were a fly fisherman, your waders were made of rubber. No water was getting in — or out — unless you snagged them on a barbwire fence getting to the stream. The “out” part of ...

The first time I went fly-fishing I was wearing borrowed waders. The person — guy — from whom I’d borrowed them had to have been at least twice my size. I cinched the shoulder straps as tightly as ...

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