No. 56 - California Golf Club of San Francisco
WASPy Stuff Bradley A. Evans WASPy Stuff Bradley A. Evans

No. 56 - California Golf Club of San Francisco

2,021 Words. 8 Minute Read.

I walked in the front door to what reminded me of a gilded age mansion during the off-season; massive, historic, and classically unoccupied.  Furniture, though sparse, was unpretentious and handsome.  Weathered trophy cases hold artifacts that require a century's worth of history to acquire.  Hand-painted maps of northern California reside above stately fireplaces, arched windows line long hallways, and an ornately decorated ballroom sat aristocratically empty.  I felt like I was in a 19th-century bachelor pad for robber barons.   

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No. 55 - When Fishing Was Simpler
Adventure Bradley A. Evans Adventure Bradley A. Evans

No. 55 - When Fishing Was Simpler

920 Words. 4 Minute Read.

I’d drive to the river early Sunday morning, sit on my tailgate while “Walkin’ (For Your Love)” played, and get my vest organized. All I needed were a few size 12 Lighting Bugs and I’d be sure to land some farm-raised SNIT’s (standard nine inch trout).

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No. 54 - Loss and the Love of a Dog
Misc. Bradley A. Evans Misc. Bradley A. Evans

No. 54 - Loss and the Love of a Dog

980 Words. 4 Minute Read.

Scott had a home on a two-acre island with a rickety wood bridge that looked like it was straight from the set of Swiss Family Robinson. I don’t know how I got home every night, but I always woke up to Scott’s black lab sleeping with me. He’d burrow beneath the covers and get as close as he could. That puppy knew I wasn’t well, and as only a dog can do, he loved me unconditionally.

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No. 53 - Jazz on the Fly
Bradley A. Evans Bradley A. Evans

No. 53 - Jazz on the Fly

949 Words. 4 Minute Read.

l believe jazz and fly fishing are similar. They’re poetic, ripe with spontaneity, and beautiful in their imperfections. When done right, it’s art at its highest level.

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No. 52 - Blizzards in Jackson Hole
Rockies Bradley A. Evans Rockies Bradley A. Evans

No. 52 - Blizzards in Jackson Hole

518 Words. 2 Minute Read.

After supper, everyone who wasn’t on the night shift would head back to our cabins on the Snake River to listen to music, play volleyball, smoke pot, get naked in the hot springs, shoot pool at the employee tavern, or knock out whistle pigs with our fly rods.

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