Our fate hangs by a thread just around this bend. If the limb-line is taut, we’ll dine on fresh catfish fried crispy in cornmeal and lard. If not, it’s creek-side potted meat and crackers for supper.
We’re canoeing Mississippi’s Black Creek for a few days. We lit the Coleman stove long before the sun. The smell of eggs, coffee, and bacon rose in the gloaming. And, at first good light, we were floating downstream through a wild and scenic morning...

After augering 10 holes and clearing the slush, we moved on to setting tip-ups. My fingers were already losing function due to the cold, but the adrenaline kept me going. As usual, we were first on the frozen lake, my father and I. The sooner we set up, the sooner our jumbo shiners would swim at depths haunted by big northern pike. To break up down-time between pike bites, we would set a few smaller rigs tipped with tiny emerald shiners for white...

The calendar suggests that November wasn’t long ago. For many deer enthusiasts, the only thing more distant than November’s end is its next beginning. Call it deer camp withdrawal, or perhaps more aptly, a deer camp hangover. Should you find yourself stricken by a case of early onset holiday blues as proverbial deer opener “holidays” are overtaken by the holidays, the prescription is not more cowbell. (Okay, maybe that clip helps a little.) But...

I’ve been date-less on the last two Valentine’s days. Now, before you go feeling sorry for me, you should know that both years I found lovely dance partners in the form of big, banana-yellow brown trout. A dozen girdlebugs cost a lot less and last a lot longer than a dozen roses anyway, so I always head into Feb. 15 feeling like I put one over on everyone. Fancy restaurants were probably booked solid, but I had world-class trout water all to...

When I worked for the South Dakota Game, Fish & Parks, it was inevitable that every summer I’d get approached by people asking about sharks in the Missouri River. I’d always explain that sharks have never been documented this far north, but that usually didn’t quell their fears.
The furthest inland a bull shark has ever been seen in North America is Alton, Ill. Alton sits along the Mississippi River about 15 miles north of St. Louis, and 175...

Why do we consider some fish iconic and others aquatic refuse? In this series, we focus on American fishes not officially designated as “game fish.” These species, though native, get lumped into the category of “trash fish,” a distinction that’s more than just semantic. Game fish are managed differently by state and federal agencies. They get protection, research, money, and love. Trash fish don’t. We think that’s wrong.
Trash Fish Tuesday...