Field & Stream

Bass Brothers

HE HAD INTRODUCED HIMSELF as Diablo. We were sure it was a nickname, but given the language barrier, getting to a real nombre seemed unlikely. Or necessary. The devil it was. He couldn’t have been older than 25, and his English was sparse, but every time I opened my streamer box, quiet Diablo pointed to a handful of Clouser Minnows stuck in the corner, mostly hidden by the hair, flash, and plumage of much bigger, fancier, more modern flies.

“This fly is very good, sir,” he would mutter through the blue Buff protecting his face from the blazing sun.

The problem was that my old friend Tim Romano and I didn’t come to Mexico to throw Clousers. Part of the reason we were invited to Lake Picachos in the first place was to see what two devout streamer junkies fluent in the new meat-fly world order could produce on what’s being touted as Mexico’s next great largemouth fishery. Clousers, in our minds, were numbers flies, not size flies. Those same minds, subsequently, had been wondering for a full day and a

Sie lesen eine Vorschau. Registrieren Sie sich, um mehr zu lesen.

Mehr von Field & Stream

Field & Stream4 min gelesen
Night Shift
IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON IN February, and the farmer gave me the usual post-deer-season response when I asked if I could hunt coyotes on his land. “Go ahead,” he said. He even pulled on a weathered Carhartt coat, stepped onto his porch stoop, and motion
Field & Stream3 min gelesen
Swim Team
THE THREE OF US RUSHED before dawn, flickering figures in headlamp beams, piling gear into Ralph’s 10-foot johnboat. Ralph and I had been chasing ducks up and down the shores of Lake Champlain for a decade or so, and we had a feeling about the Novemb
Field & Stream5 min gelesen
1. The Road Trip from Hell Was Paved with Good Intentions
Twenty years later, I remember the silence inside the car as we retreated home. The radio was on, but the three of us were quiet, and had been for some time. Sunrise was a few hours away. Joe was half-asleep in the back of the minivan, and I rode sho