I’m not real big on buying hats because I get more than my share of freebies over the course of the year. Besides, I tend to narrow my “game day” selection down to a choice few in any given season. I’m not Steve Kennedy, who wears a single Auburn hat until it wears it, but I know that only certain lids fit my head properly, and I also know that some of them just have bad fishing mojo.

People in the south, east and west may not get it, but up north walleye fishing is a serious religion. Those dudes take their leeches and splash guards and gigantic nets every bit as seriously as bass guys take swimbaits and tungsten and deep diving crankplugs – maybe even more. A lot of them also like to drink, as evidenced by the fact that in most Wisconsin and Minnesota towns there seems to be a bar or two or three. So I decided to investigate the intersection of walleyes and beer and was not surprised by my findings.

Fifteen years later she gets it. The full picture. We fish together. We travel together. Now we write together, too. We may only be celebrating 6 months of blogging harmony, but today – on our 15th anniversary – it’s obvious why we have so much to celebrate and write about.

Tournament fishing is hard and occasionally depressing enough, so there’s no reason you shouldn’t be able to drink your cares away after a tough day on the pond. B.A.S.S. has yet to announce the full 2021 schedule (they have made clear that Lake Ray Roberts in Texas will host the Classic, which is more than fine with me) but if I was on the scheduling committee it wouldn’t hurt my feelings one bit to build a tour around tasty brews.

I have yet to catch a sturgeon, at least partially because I’ve never targeted them. I’ve been in the boat musky fishing when one of my partners hooked one and quickly released it, but that’s the extent of my experience with them. One day I hope to visit my friend Ryan Rosenbaum in Idaho to catch one of those 8- to 10-foot long acrobats, and then tap out and whack on a bunch of smallmouths on the same water. Until then, I’ll have to get my sturgeon fix through alcohol.

This week’s favorite t-shirt comes from the East Rosebud Fly Shop in Montana, whose motto – for reasons that will soon become obvious – is “For those about to fish, we salute you.”

I met Donna Gaunt on August 18, 1986, during our freshman year of college, which makes us antiques. We were roommates from our sophomore year until we graduated, and then a few year later we moved back in together and it was just like old times. Her college degree was fashion merchandising. She didn’t need to take home economics because she could have taught the class.

When I fish, I am not a technique snob. I just want to use what is going to catch me the most or the biggest bass. While I love a topwater bite, I’ll fish deep when that’s appropriate. I love big tungsten and heavy braid, but I won’t hesitate to pull out a spinning rod and light fluoro. When it comes to beer, however, you can afford to be picky.

On my two trips to Bear Trail Lodge I’ve now caught all five species of Pacific salmon. For those of us who live in bass-world, it’s not always easy to remember what they are. Fortunately, last year my guides Alexia and Rylie taught me an easy way to remember. In fact, it’s so easy that they said most Alaskan schoolchildren learn it in kindergarten.

I first saw this hat in a fly shop across the street from my hotel in Missoula, Montana in 2015. I’m not much of a fly fisherman – in fact, I’d just caught my first fly rod trout a few days earlier on the Bitterroot – so I don’t know if Nautilus is a quality product. Based on their website, and their pricing, it appears that the Miami-based company does make good gear.

We are headed to Alaska shortly, where we hope to catch multiple species of salmon, trout and char. It’ll be my third trip and Hanna’s first, and while fishing at Bear Trail Lodge is the primary purpose of our adventure, I’m thrilled to see her reaction when we go to the famous Brooks Falls in Katmai National Park. Fishing around dozens of bears, and going from freaked-the-hell-out to remarkably ho-hum in a matter of hours is an experience that every angler and lover of the outdoors should enjoy.

I’ve made no secret of the fact that Giant Trevally are one of my bucket list species, preferably on some pristine and idyllic flats like those found in the Seychelles or the Maldives. Their brute strength and willingness to eat topwaters makes them a no-brainer. I just hope that I have enough tackle to survive the inevitable break-offs.

With the exception of a few crusty contrarians, it is a truth universally accepted by anglers that bananas are bad luck in the boat. While I’m not generally superstitious, this is one I buy into. Despite the fact that I love banana pudding, banana bread and regular old yeller nanners, I won’t eat them within 24 hours of getting on the water – except in Brazil, where they grow naturally and I’ve unilaterally decided that they don’t mess up the peacock bass bite. Other than that, caveat emptor!

I don’t quite get it, but to our brothers and sisters from the north walleyes are like a religion. Up in Minnesota, Michigan, Wisconsin and all throughout Canada, they revere these fish. Not surprisingly, a simple search finds that many of them have added these fish indelibly to their bodies.

Flounder: I can’t believe I threw up in front of Dean Wormer

Boon: Face it, Kent, You threw up on Dean Wormer.

A little over a decade ago, Hanna and I were driving to her cousin’s wedding just outside of Bar Harbour, Maine when we saw a big striped bass and a tarpon staring at us from the side of a barn. We pulled over to a small crafts and souvenir shop to investigate and fell in love with the big colorful metal striper. We were still more or less newlyweds, still more or less trying to get our financial footing in the world, and the high three-figure price scared the hell out of us, so we left without buying it.

The New Orleans Bassmaster Classic in 2011 was a tough one for me. While everyone else was out having fun in the evenings, I was either finishing a story or gearing up for the next fog-bound boat ride. When I’d get up to go to work, my wife would be stumbling back to the room draped in beads. Hey, I don’t judge.

You may not want to head to a foreign country any time in the near future, but if you’re jonesing for a trip to the Amazon like we are, there are other ways to think of exceptional South American fishing. Depending on where you live, and your level of risk-tolerance, the next best thing might be a tattoo. Here are some we like.

It’s nice to celebrate specific fish with beers named after them. I’m not superstitious, thinking that if I drink a “Giant Trevally Pale Ale,” I’ll never catch one, but at the same time I’d like to save some of these for the moments that they’re made for.

When snakeheads first showed up here on the Potomac, they were a guilty pleasure for many of us. I don’t know that anyone was bragging about chasing or catching them in the early days. Now, they’ve become a cottage industry, selling all sorts of specialized equipment to proud fanatics who love their size, their fight and their wiles.