12,822 miles roundtrip. 3 broken rods. Not enough sleep. Too many Rum Runners. All racked up in the name of chasing down the coveted Grand Slam. Welcome to Key West, or as the locals call it, the Conch Republic. A haven for hippies, smugglers, and nonconformist weirdos, all set to a perpetual Jimmy Buffett soundtrack. Where time stands still, ghosts are real, and the US highway system putters out at mile zero, marked by a shady dive bar called the Green Parrot.

On the water, you’ll find a layered world of blues and greens—and an unparalleled quantity of game fish. From Hemingway’s deep-sea marlin hunts in the 1930s to the golden days of flats fishing for tarpon in the ’70s, the Keys have become a premier fishing destination over the last century. According to the cult-favorite 1973 film, Tarpon, it’s where you go to seek out those moments in life “that give you an immense jolt of electricity,” better than any drug.

 

 

Earlier this spring, we gathered a small crew to take advantage of this wild place and all of its rod-bending adversaries. We fished, ate, drank and float-planed our way around the Keys with Free Fly Ambassadors and anglers Alec Lucas and Sage Johnson, led by Florida local and pro surfer, Evan Geiselman. Alec and Sage had cast lines all over the world as professional guides, but neither had spent much (or any) time in the Keys—a quintessential angler destination right here in the US.

 


 

 

Alec jokes, knowing full well he’s stepped into a distinctly unique fever dream of Key Lime pie and flats fishing. Alec has traveled all over the world—Japan, Baja, Honduras, the Middle East—but never to the notoriously difficult (and much closer to home) fishery called the Keys. 

With the high-level objective of capturing a Slam and the paramount goal of having a good time, the crew set off on their first day on the water. Alec had flown 2,390 miles in from Colorado while Sage had traveled 2,800 miles from Montana. They usually take the lead, guiding clients of their own—but this time they got to settle in and play tourist.

 

 

“Out of all the places I’ve been fortunate to fish, I hadn’t been to one of the most iconic, one that was right in my backyard.” Alec told us, looking back on the trip. Usually around this time of year, Alec is rowing clients down the rivers around Carbondale, CO, putting clients on brown trout and mountain whitefish. Here in the Keys, they were chasing bonefish, tarpon, and permit—all in the same day. But Mother Nature had other plans, with gusting 25 mph winds providing less-than-ideal conditions.

“Once we got there, everyone in the crew was immediately frothing over fishing stories and videos—all the while knowing we were facing the worst weather conditions possible for flats fishing. But we make a plan, and of course it fails. And then you go to Plan B, and when that fails, you go to Plan C. You keep your expectations low and you end up having the best time of your life.”

“It never goes to plan. And sometimes that's the best part, and I embrace the beautiful chaos of that.”

. . .

 


Every year, Captain Sage Johnson goes through a moment of catharsis—thawing out from the frigid temperatures of Alaska. She spends half the year guiding up there at her family’s lodge in the remote town of King Salmon. She spends the other half of the year down south in the warmer waters of Belize. This year, instead of her usual migration, she flew down to join us in the Keys for our Slam attempt.

“There’s always a transition that I go through after leaving Alaska. The reality of the season being over after having the same routine for so long is strange… And the temperature swing absolutely shocks your body—going from low 40s to high 80s.

It had been months since I’d fished, and the salt game is completely different from guiding freshwater up in Alaska. But it’s like riding a bike. It doesn’t take long to get a feel for the rod again and have that cast start to dethaw and come back. It felt so good to have some bow time again.”

 

 

After finding her rhythm, Sage settled into her warm-weather routine, hungry for the unique challenges presented by the Keys.

“I’ve only fished the Keys a couple of times and it’s well known for its level of difficulty. It’s where you go to test yourself as an angler. Especially if you’re trying to target a Slam. Our guides were highly knowledgeable and found a way to put us on fish while we had some extremely tough weather.”

. . .

 



After ripping around Key West on a skiff and dodging high winds, the crew got to take advantage of some downtime on Duval Street. The dive bar scene is legendary, music and chickens spill out onto the street, and the people watching is unmatched. 

Wandering past the briny smell of crawfish carts and heaping piles of conch fritters, Alec, Sage, and Evan hung a left at Sloppy Joe’s Bar (an old Hemingway haunt), towards Captain Tony’s Saloon for a few rounds of pool.

 

 

All said and done, the trip didn’t end with the coveted Slam. But you’d never know it with this crew. Plan A rarely unfolds the way you’d expect. It’s part of the adventure. What sticks with you is the company and all the in-between moments.