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After two and a half weeks down in the Keys and Everglades, I left the tarpon of South Florida to chase redfish in the Louisiana Bayou. Along the way, I stopped in New Orleans to pick up my buddy Micah, who decided to spend his law school spring break fishing with. . .
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damaged by man’s indiscriminate spraying of chemicals to control mosquitoes.
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[Editor’s Note: Paul Moinester has embarked on a six-month, 20,000-mile adventure to exploring the upstream battle to protect wild fish and their habitat. (Check out his introductory post here.) He will be posting dispatches on the Fly Fishing blog throughout his journey.]
As a relatively novice fly fisherman, I often get anxious when I fish with a guide. Always wanting to be the consummate student, I become consumed by the need to perform well and impress my guide. So you can imagine the butterflies bouncing around my gut as I sped off in a flats boat for a day of tarpon fishing with Gordy Hill, the spry octogenarian and legendary. . .
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