Hand fishing in pure mud is equal parts hilarious and nerve wracking. Each hole feels deeper than the last, and you never know if you’re grabbing mud, roots, or a lightning fast eel. When they finally ...

Funny, I don’t remember river cobble being this slick when I last cast a bright-colored feather fly along the Ringold Springs shoreline. The studs on my wading boots must be worn down. Then again, my ...