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Trout: An Illustrated History
Having developed a passion for fishing as a boy, James Prosek searched in vain for a book that catalogued the trout he had come to treasure. Then he began painting them himself, inspired by John James Audubon's classic bird portraits. This is the dazzlingly beautiful result, with more than seventy original watercolors by a true prodigy--only twenty years old and already considered "a fair bid to become the Audubon of the fishing world" (The New York Times).76% (12)
The trout of North America range from the Pacific to the Atlantic, and from the Arctic Circle to the Tropic of Cancer. No other book pictures all of the popular varieties, much less the rare, exotic, and in some cases extinct species, subspecies, and strains included in this comprehensive collection. Char; Apache, Gila, and Mexican trout; rainbow, redband, and golden trout; cutthroat trout; brown trout and Atlantic salmon--each of these, and many more, are captured in vivid watercolors, along with engaging, informative descriptions of their evolution and habitats.
With youthful passion and stunning accuracy, James Prosek celebrates as never before the indelicble beauty and variety of the trout, and makes an eloquent plea for its preservation. An unprecedented reference, Trout is essential for the serious angler--and a glorious introduction for anyone who loves fishing and the outdoors.
Perhaps no one loves trout as much as James Prosek, who by age 20 journeyed thousands of miles and through 49 states to depict in watercolors all 70 subspecies of North American wild trout at least four times for this definitive volume on the subject. He details the diversity and brilliant range of colors in the species with his paintings, which are accompanied by written snippets, including angling anecdotes, historical sketches and personal reminiscences. At the devastating rate that trout are being lost to hybridization, displacement and extinction, we should be thankful that Prosek's obsession has led to this beautiful document of the species now, before it is too late.
Drew McCarsky - Great Grouper Getaway Finalist
My family have always fished. Being was born and raised in the Pt. Pleasant NJ area, it was the thing to do.I was a lucky kid too, I was shown how to be a outdoorsman,and most importantly, a fisherman by my Dad Harold McCarsky. Everyone knew my dad. He was the guy that since he was a mechanic and hydrolic tech, if your boat broke, he'd fix it- usually for a pizza and a 6 pack.He knew all the local secrets on Stripers, And surf fishing in general. Everyone would invite him out to fish, he'd take me sometimes. When I got a bit older, he'd take me to the big Surf tournaments in atlantic city, Asbury Park and brigantine to name a few. It was his passion and he was good at it. He loved to share his knowledge, He loved to help someone else catch them like he could. He figured if nothing else, It was that many less flounder I had to clean to give some fish to the elderly neighbors. Dad would stop by with a bag ful of fillets of flounder or Pollock steaks, whtever- He felt he was helping the "Old folks" enjoy "the Shore".As years passed, Dad got sick from heart failure and diabetes. He was overweight and not taking care of himself. There was no beach buggy access, so for a big guy with heart failure, He had to stop fishing as well as work. It was tough for him.He was an Icon on the Jetties and the Surf line. He'd be out all kinds of weird times of the day and night fishing or catching Herring so he could fish! He had to give up his first love- Surf fishing, something he took on the chin. We'd fish the Pt. Pleasant canal for black fish and stripers in the early fall and late spring. I could see the pain dad had in him. He loved t! o fish.H e would say that "right now, they are thowing old creek chubs. Black and silver in the pocket- they are proably killing those bass. The thing too is: Dad would toss you in the Drink if he ever saw you taking a short bass, "Back snagging" fish (other than bait) or doing anything he considered not in the best interest of Sportsfishing. He was 6 foot 4 inches and nearly 390 Lbs, You were not going to argue! One of his dreams were coming true on a bright note- We opened a tackle shop, Started by hand tying the thousands of rigs ourselves, as well as resoration of older rods. I would buy then from garage sales and refinish and rewrap then. If it just needed a guide, would do my very best to replace the guide, re finish it and sell it as a restored rod. That was our starting point.It was also a big key into a guy who was hard to appreciate sometimes. I did not understand my dad. He was a Motor head, Jock and my brothers and him semed to have a better raport than me. I was the musician, the bookworm, the nerd. If it wasn't for Duck hunting and fishing-I'd be called someother things! The one tradition My Dad and I had was, No matter how sick, how broke, how whatever- Dad would take me out to Bay head beach front, Karge' street in Bat head to be exact, For the Fall Bluefish run. Every November 25th, My Birthday. In 1984, inspite of his swollen legs, panting like crazy, he managed to get to our spot. We had a ball, afterwords, we would sit at the inlet and enjoy a breakfast of Smoked whiting and a cold beer. the next season,Our Shop was doing fantastic, We had masses of loyal customers. I was putting out a few customer poles a week. We were really successful! Everyone knew if you had a question ,something broke, you just wanted to show your kid a good time, Harold was there for you. He would give a lot of stuff to the kids at next to nothing or free! He was a sucker for alittle girl going snapper fishing with her dad or grandpop, I would see Dad give her a pole and reel, a little tackle box with bobber and things! that sh e would not get hurt on, then never ring it up. he'd say to bring him some live killies for the Fluke fisherman.He sponsored a big fishing tournament that the kids would do every summer. He thought he could keep them off trouble and drugs if they were doing something fun. He was a great guy to the town. We were getting to the best fishing on the Jersey shore-The beginning of fall. Stripers, Blues, Weakfish (Sea trout)Kingfish,Flounder! My Dad died of Heart failure,September 1985. I took it hard- a lousy time to take him away I figured.Dad and I would argue about stuff in the shop, But behind that, We had finally found a link that made us really close. Some thing I had a hard time doing with my dad sometimes. It was weird though, the day he died, I was fishing literally under his hospital windows at the "Maxxon ave. beach" this little sandy spot on the Manasquan river. I was into huge snowshoe and yellow tail flounders! I was the only guy on the whole place catching them. every catch,I would hold up another one towards the hospital, unaware that my dad had passed. Someone had said it was like someone was putting the fish on the hooks for me! At the funeral, I thought about that statement again...And allowed a smile at the possibiThe best weekend I never posted.... (or, "this is for you Adam")
This summer my wife and I got to meet up with my parents to see my mom's folks in New Mexico (I love that part of the country.) While there, we got to hit the San Juan River. Fly fishing is something of a right of passage in my family. I can remember the first trip I took with my dad (Mammoth, above rainbow falls) where he tought me how to work with Western Coachmen. But the real coming came for me came when I first fished the quality waters of the San Juan River. It was Thanksgiving and it was very cold. Snow was already on the ground and the stones near the river bank where cemented together in ice. We fished with a local tie called a San Juan Worm. It was a very simple wet drift with a strike indicator, not that exciting for a 12 year old. I spent about as much time fishing and cleaning ice out of my guides and my reel. But I eventually got a nice rich 14” rainbow. Probably the proudest I had felt at that time. Dad said I should hold it by the mouth for a picture, my hands were so numb that I didn’t feel it’s teeth dig deep gouges into my thumb as I tentatively held it up with a freckled smile for my father. “OK, we should let it back in” Dad said. “OK” I said, and with clumsy hands dropped it back into the water. “Jon, you need to resuscitate it!” “OH!!! SHOOTT!!!!” I had forgotten the most important clause in the contract that fly fishermen have with fish “We will fish you, but we will take care of you.” I dove my wool-mitted hands into the near freezing water down. I got as far as my elbows before Dad stopped me. It was all right, the trout had already swam off healthfully with a nice thrust. Before we got to the bank, the wind in the canyon had frozen the water in my fingerless wool gloves and I was shaking with cold; but two important things happened that day. I had waded to my ribs for the first time while fishing, and I had caught my first San Juan Rainbow Trout. My dad, my uncle, and I got into my uncle’s pathfinder and the heater kicked in. My hands burned for half the ride back. Going back this summer was wonderful if not completely different. The place is packed in the summer, it is no longer the secret place for the savvy. Drift boating is the name of the game, and boats clog Texas Hole just below the Sand Bars. Three guides had their boats Anchored at the top of the hole while their clients: greenhorn gentry and bass fishermen, clumsily tossed the ties of the day in the whole with a look said “This isn’t what I though fly fishing was! This is nothing like “A River Runs Through It!” We also drift-boated. It’s great if you’re doing it right. We moved up and down a few holes and I got to see a bend in the river that I never had because of the boat. I got to drift with my Granddad, which was a real treat. I landed 6 trout: 4 rainbow and 2 brown (the largest brown I’ve ever caught). Erica and my dad where on the other boat and she caught her first two: a rainbow and a brown. One day I’ll scan these, but for now, I’ll just post a picture of the pictures to be a record of a place that will always be Peace.
The most highly prized of all North American gamefish deserves a book like Trout: The Complete Guide - New Revised EditionRelated topics:
Trout is the most popular species for fly anglers. The avid angler is looking for good fish biology as well as strategies and skills. More than 350 photos complement the clear, concise, how-to text. Here is everything you need to know to successfully choose the right presentation for any situation on the trout stream, inlcuding catching trout with flies, artificial lures and live bait.
Understanding Trout & Salmon
Fly Fishing Techniques
Spinning & Baitcasting
Hooking, Playing & Landing
Techniques for Special Waters
Fishing for Trophies
Blue-Ribbon Trout Streams
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