Before we left for Alaska I wrote about being unhappy it was going to be cold while we were there. Not Arctic-cold like in the winter, but I was leaving my hot and humid summer for a place where I’d have to be layered up with clothes.

Due to the ongoing pandemic, Alaska Airlines canceled our itinerary, which forced us to scramble, and we ended up moving up our departure to Friday the 10th at 5pm, which put us in Anchorage just before midnight. That left us with the need for two nights in hotels, but more importantly 40 hours to maximize.

There’s nothing wrong with being cautious in the era of Covid-19, but at some point, you have get up off the ground and stop being afraid. For those of us who started a website devoted to travel just before this crap hit, we knew that the time would come to hit the road, or the air, as the case may be, but the questions were “when” and “where.”

Hanna and I are back from eight days in Alaska, and our biggest regret is that we didn’t stay longer. It was my third trip to the last frontier and her first, and we are already planning a return. If you like the outdoors, it’s a no-brainer to go there. In fact, if you have the disposable income and you still have unallocated vacation time to go somewhere this summer, it makes sense to get on the ol’ interweb and book a trip now.

You may be as regular as a Swiss timepiece, but for some reason travel seems to throw off many of our internal clocks and digestive systems. Whether it’s the change of venue, jet lag, different foods, dehydration, or some other factor, when you lose the home field advantage, sometimes your innards get screwed up. That can lead to both discomfort and inconvenience.

I grew up in Chicago, where winter waits for the school bus seemed to take a decade. We would wait so long that you could feel your little nose hairs freeze. Does that sound appealing?

When I was a kid, our family vacations were road trips around the country, hitting as many states as we could, trying to fit in as many historical sites, museums, friends and family and state parks as possible. Of course, my sister, brother and I bitched and moaned the entire vacation. We were typical kids who just wanted to be with our friends or go to Florida and sit on the beach. Despite that resistance, when my social studies teachers asked if anyone had been to certain locations/destinations throughout the United States it was very cool that I was one of the only students with his or her hands raised just about every time.

I’ve been a redhead all my life, and I’m old enough to remember coming home from playing outside all day (Xbox hadn’t been invented) and having sun blisters on my shoulders. My mom would walk me upstairs, sit me on the top of the toilet, light a match, heat up a needle and poke the blister to release the “goo.”

For a beginner, the feeling of hitting a rock, getting caught on a piece of grass or actually getting a bite can seem very similar. Either way, I was told, by the boyfriend, to set the hook. Hook sets are free.

When we visited The Hide in Hwange National Park in Zimbabwe, our guide was an exceptional naturalist. As I’ve written elsewhere, he knew more about different types of termites, their life cycles and habits, than you or I know about anything. Additionally, despite wearing glasses (or perhaps because of them), he was able to identify just about any camouflaged animal at incredible distances. Perhaps most importantly, even after spending years guiding people like us, he was still thrilled by each new wildlife sighting.

Ever flown in a float plane? More importantly, have you ever landed safely in a float plane?

I’ve been honored to serve on the Board of Directors of the Bass Fishing Hall of Fame since 2018, but even before that I was fortunate to interact with a lot of the Hall’s members. I’ve fished with Kevin VanDam, Denny Brauer, Mark Davis, Paul Elias, the late Ken Cook and 2020 inductee Ron Lindner (in a very memorable FLW Tour event on Lake Minnetonka in 1997). I’ve also ridden with several members in practice, including David Fritts and Gary Klein. And of course I’ve spent many hours in the boat with 2020 inductee Steve Bowman while covering various B.A.S.S. events.

With all of our focus on international travel, I feel that sometimes we give exceptional domestic venues the short end of the stick. Even though I’d heard about Grosse Savanne for many years, from people like Mark Zona and Keith Combs, with a clear path to Mexico I’d always discounted the statements of people like James Overstreet, who told me “Why the hell would I go to Mexico when I can just drive down to Grosse Savanne and catch just as many bass, or more?”

Right now, due to COVID-19, discretionary travel has slowed to a trickle. Fine time to start a website about exotic fishing travel, right? Well, we’re not giving up. We will get back to it soon, and all of this pent up energy will make us appreciate the fun trips even more. We hope that you will help us support the fishing community by doing the same. In the meantime. Here are eight things you can do to prepare for when the floodgates open:

Many of us have made a big deal about supporting local small businesses during this time of economic uncertainty, and while I think that is a critical effort, it doesn’t tell the whole story. YES, you should support restaurants and tackle shops and other manufacturers near your home, but if possible please try to mail order from those you’ve encountered in your travels as well.

I am crossing my fingers that our June Anglers Inn El Salto trip will go off as planned, but in case it does not I have already reserved dates for the June of 2021, and have also blocked out rooms for November 2020.

As I sit isolated at home in the midst of the COVID-19 epidemic, 2019 seems more than just a few months away – it seems like another lifetime. It was an epic year when I fished more than usual at home, and still managed three trips to Mexico, a trip to the Amazon, freshwater and saltwater adventures in Alaska, and long weekends at Grosse Savanne and Table Rock.

I’ve always loved going to the zoo. Every time I go I stare endlessly at the animals. What would it be like to get behind the glass? Behind the bars?

I’d fish in a sewer pipe or a garbage dump if it promised the chance of a trophy catch, but all other things being equal, fishing is better when you do it in beautiful places. In the past 12 months, I’ve fished in the crystal blue waters off of Guatemala and in the rock-strewn rapids of an Amazonian tributary, but by far the most scenic place I fished during that period (or any period, for that matter) was at Brooks Falls in Katmai National Park, Alaska.

In the past five years I’ve fished with two guides who were assholes. With one, we caught trophy class fish, with the other we didn’t catch much at all. If you’re catching ‘em, a day with a jerk can be tolerated, but when you’re not it’s pure misery.