If Jack Jenkins had a dime for every fly he tied that didn’t catch trout, he’d be rich. Actually, he’d...
Jack Jenkins swigged the last of his coffee, put down his outdoor magazine (I won’t say which one) and patted...
Jupiter had seen better days. Another winter was behind him again though, thanks to the old quilt behind the woodstove...
Mother Nature’s clock ticks slowly this time of year. The chickens don’t lay much, the dog is on his blanket...
One afternoon in late fall, Jack and I thought we’d take old Freddie, the retired flat deck logger crummy, and...
Jack Jenkins and I were recently granted the honour of personally delivering a refitted and refinished clinker-built model freight dingy...
Well Steve, this year I’ve decided to tell the readers about an adventure of our local Cariboo chapter of Fibs...
Okay Steve, here I come again with another entry for your annual contest, Fibs & Follies of Woods Wise Women....
It was nearing the end of winter, but there was enough ice left on the lake to safely hold Jack’s...