The crew I run with
There’s a photogenic bend in the river at Parker where red rock cliffs launch themselves skyward from the water, an epic desert landscape billions of years in the making. The Colorado River has spent...
There’s something primal about catching a smaller fish, putting it on a hook, and trying to catch a larger fish with it. I’m sure back in our caveman days, there was that one caveman...
I was parked on the windy shoulder of the 138 freeway, probably not the most ideal spot for vehicles and trailers to be sitting in the dark. The main gate for the lake isn’t...
There we were, IronMan Mendez and I, sitting over forty five feet of water on a beautiful Perris morning. Dave was glued to his Forward Facing Sonar while I stood there staring at the...
There’s a very specific kind of confidence you don’t talk about much in tournament fishing. It’s not the “we figured them out” confidence. It’s the quieter one. The “yep… we’re not winning this” confidence....
The cabin sat above a stretch of shoreline that felt familiar in a way I couldn’t quite explain. That same shoreline ate everything we threw at it back in the day—Texas rigs, drop shots,...
We were crawling back home north on the 5, tail between our legs, dodging the usual San Diego Driving Academy graduates. You know the ones. Dudes trailering boats in the fast lane, brake-checkers, and...
Before most of us ever knew his name, Albert “OG” Medina was already grinding through the infamous City Park Bass Circuit. You know the one. Lincoln, Echo, Legg — the kind of fisheries where...
Let’s be real—when people talk about the “Big Three” lakes around here, Piru Lake is definitely the red-headed stepchild. Castaic? That place is a legend. Back in the ’90s, when I was still learning...
LA kid. Lifelong fisherman. Still chasing bass around Southern California, 100+ days a year.
