Hunting and Fly Fishing
in New Hampshire’s White Mountains
After living in New Hampshire bordering the White Mountains, I decided to take up fly fishing. A well known fly fishing writer owned a local fly shop and got me set up and started. I failed miserably, put the rod and other equipment in the basement and went back to hiking our local mountains. I didn’t think about it for another 10 years.
About 5 years ago I met a guy who would turn out to be one of my best friends ever. Jeff and I worked together and one day he mentioned he was going fly fishing. I asked if he had ever caught anything and he assured that he did all the time and if I wanted he would show me. So that weekend in his canoe and using a Black Ghost streamer, I limited out in Brook Trout and was addicted.
As I learned more about fly fishing, the history and the traditions I decided I wanted to be a traditionalist. No fancy graphite Orvis rods and expensive reels. I use and old Heddon Pal glass rod and a Pflueger Medalist reel. I tie my own flies. I have read every old book on fly tying and fishing I could find.
Piscator Non Solum Piscatur : There is more to fishing than catching fish. It’s about living a life style that values nature, friends, good food and drink and enjoying them all together in as simple and traditional manner. Few things provide as much satisfaction as getting up before dawn to be on the river as the sun rises,catching a beautiful trout on a fly you tied yourself and taking it home for a breakfast of bacon, eggs and trout.
As my love of the outdoors grew, Jeff one day averred that if one fishes, it naturally occurs that one hunts, they go Hand in hand. After some soul searching and discussions I concluded that I had become too far removed from my food and thought hunting for my own food was a more honest and closer to nature way to obtain sustenance. I decided to take a hunting course to obtain the appropriate licenses and learn how to hunt for game indigenous to the local area, deer, turkey, bear, moose and grouse.
This is the story of my on going experiences of hunting grouse, or partridges as we call them here in northern New Hampshire.