Many of the signs in Roscoe sport illustrations of trout and other wildlife. The town is aptly nicknamed “Trout Town, USA” for obvious reasons, and boasts the title well.
The early morning fog creeps in before getting into a fishing session.
Roscoe has three fly shops on the main block of town because, well, why not?
A humble home spotted on the road to a new fishing spot on the Beaverkill.
My family’s graduation tradition is to give the graduate a lei after receiving the diploma. I gave my flowers a front row seat to the road trip.
The Beaverkill River calling me from the front seat of the car.
The biggest brown of the trip, one that fell into a size twelve rusty spinner and was brought to the net.
Watching my brown speed back to the depths from which he came. Sometimes, watching them return safely puts a bigger smile on my face.
Rainbow on the Beaverkill
Living off of PB&J for a few days isn’t bad when the trout are eager to eat.
When your feet start to hurt from sliding around on rocks all day, tying flies and sipping strawberry lemonade is a nice compromise. Perfection looks something like this.
