Confidence in Fly Fishing Three quick stories come to mind illustrate this. First off let me say there have been plenty of times when I have been on both sides of the confidence equation. A few years ago, I was steelheading with a couple of fly fishing buddies. Unlike me, though there guys weren't purists. And we were using terminal gear. Although were just dead-drifting jigs, very similar to fly fishing, I felt about as coordinated as a monkey performing brain surgery. As the day wore on more and more steelies were caught. Huge steelies, the biggest I had ever seen! None by me. I could feel my confidence shrinking. And I mean my confidence in all kinds of things, like being able to read the river, being able to detect a strike. Things that had no connection to me using unfamiliar gear. The pressure inside my head built, until I HAD to catch a fish. I didn't catch one fish that day, although I finally had a strike, and set the hook so hard I jerked it right out of the fish's mouth. And I fished longer and harder than anyone else on the trip.

Erie Steelhead Flies As we stated in our article on Pacific Steelhead flies, the steelhead fisheries of the Great Lakes region has developed differently. First off the Erie steelhead has only been around a little over a hundred years. First planted in the 1880's, the steelhead nearly died off in the 1950's due to pollution in Lake Erie. But since the 1980's, intense stocking efforts by Ontario, New York, Ohio, and Pennsylvania have been the reason for this area being nicknamed Steelhead Alley. Erie steelheaders use a wide array flies in their pursuit of this most worthy game fish. One can classify them broadly in the same way trout angler's classify flies. In general the Erie steelheader carries a variety of streamers, egg patterns, and nymphs.

Fishing Through the Cracks Lil' Brother and I never did make a lot of money, but enough to keep us just short of even on our account at Mr. K.C.'s store. Our daily provisions consisted of two cokes, a moon pie, a Miss. Dailey's fresh made sandwich, and all the crickets we needed to catch our supper. By 7:00 p.m., every evening we would have our 3 bream apiece. We would gut 'em, stick 'em, and cook 'em over a little fire we would make on the bank near our tent. Lil' Brother and I had spent the last two summers camping on the banks of the Bend. We fancied ourselves as a modern day Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn. We were accountable to no one and responsible for only our daily bread. Don't get me wrong, we were not bad kids nor did we come from a broken home. We had loving parents, grandparents, and friends. We were just lucky enough to grow up in a part of the world and in a time that allowed us to live free, truly free.

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Marks and Spencer has joined fishermen and environmental groups in backing an action plan, launched today, to secure the future of the Scottish sea-fishing industry..