Just Keep Grinding

I’ve been lost in a truly wild place for a couple weeks now and, I’ll be here in this incredible theater for a few weeks longer. Service is extremely limited here so, my connection to the outside world is almost immeasurable; so apologies to anyone who has tried to reach me and I haven’t yet had a chance to respond. I’ll be in touch soon, I promise. My season in Wyoming should be returning to normal in early May, and the plan as of now, is to return sometime in the first week. I’m loving every minute of this adventure but, in the same breath, I’m anxious to be back home – shoveling away on the High Lonesome. This week, I have a few updates about new adventures I’ve added to my list of travel offerings for the 2026 & 2027 seasons, as well as some reports from my home in the Rockies. First, a short piece I’ve titled “Just Keep Grinding.

Disheveled

One was a disheveled looking young kid in a cutoff shirt and some “511” type of tactical pants. The other was tall, muscular and carried a large beard that filled the vacant space below his jugular where his flannel shirt was unbuttoned. They sat only a few stools down from my left, perched at the same bar, speaking about the sport they loved and all the shortcomings they had overcome; and all that still lay before them on their path. The younger of the two spoke with a profound sense of regret, clearly disappointed in his recent performance. 

I could relate. I too was trying to alleviate some of the weight that failure can place on the shoulders by floating it in a wash of multi-colored, judgment inhibiting vices. 

The older and clearly more experienced man slapped the kid on his back. With a thundering voice he held up two fingers at the bartender and asked for two lagers. Then he softened his resolve and said;

“Brother, while you’re in here doubting yourself, there’s dudes out there hatin’ on you simply because they’re intimidated by your potential. Just keep grinding.” 

I didn’t know either of them, nor did I really understand the context in which they spoke but, it was enough. I paid my tab and headed for the shop. 

Tomorrow was another day on the sticks. 

JUST KEEP GRINDING.  

Springing into Summer

As I mentioned earlier, I’ve been away from home for a short while. I’m working with the WFC Chief and a few other good men to establish ourselves in this very adventurous, new arena. I can’t speak too much about it now but, for my Steelhead/Salmon Junkies out there – I have some very exciting news coming your way in the near future. 

For the time being, I’m staying out in the field for a while longer and my access to the world is limited. I wanted to use this window of time I have with decent service to hype up the coming late spring season. May and June are my two favorite months on the Lonesome and I’d love to see a few of my pals in the coming weeks. I’ve heard from a few of the guys back home and it sounds like bugs are cracking off! Who’s ready to target these brutish critters on the surface? Give me a holler and let’s chat about your next dry fly trophy hunt. I’ve been working the shovels diligently through the winter and early spring months this season and I can report that our home fishery is looking hearty and healthy. A few substantial lunks have been brought to net by myself and the rest of the WFC team and I foresee many more in the coming months. Thanks so much for your continued support. I appreciate you all.

You can reach me here on my blog by using any of the contact points on my “About Me” page or, by reaching out to me on Instagram/Facebook by using the search phrase “Authentically Wild Out West.”

Eden

Crystalline purity and a sense of familiarity with the primal world wash over your feet as you step into the wade, eyes fixated on an elephantine shadow holding tight against a boulder that resembles the last remaining evidence of the primordial era from which many of the fish you’re targeting could attribute their origins.

In the trees above you, monkeys and jaguars watch with curiosity, at this bipedal critter they’ve never witnessed before, as it moves with intention to stalk an apparent prey.

Your cast is deliberate and accurate. The ostentatious profile and luminescent coloring of your streamer streaks through the atmosphere just above the glassy surface of the current and impacts the water with a type of force that, in a moment of focus and anticipation, seems equivalent to a brick being dropped from the tree limbs above. The monstrous culmination of feathers and steel leader swing before the unsuspecting, warmwater predator and in a fit of instinct beyond its own control, it explodes from off the boulder it rested near in an exhibition of raw, natural power as it brutally thrashes into your fly and destroys any semblance of the peace that lingered around you in this secluded venue just moments ago.

A fight ensues and in the subsequent desperation to triumph over an opponent you’ve likely never tangled with the might of, you learn more about yourself than you had originally fathomed. The wild theater around you becomes more familiar and you begin to feel the intrinsic connection between the primitive nature of predacious animals and the sanctity of truly wild places. With a sudden awareness of your position in the hierarchy that exists there, an acuteness settles in the forefront of your mind. A renewed stewardship of your own identity.

It happens in those moments, deep in the jungle, secluded from all things you know of modernity and, in sync with the wilderness you were created to hold dominion over.

That is the powerful realization that comes of experiencing Eden. That is the life changing perspective that falls upon the exclusive few who will enter this venue with an intrepid spirit to pursue these carnivorous, river dwelling dreadnoughts of the ancient world. A connection to the deep jungle not only instills a warm memory in sport, but also, it cultivates an acute awareness of the long arduous process of which our ancestors climbed from a middle position in the food chain prior to building the modernity that surrounds us all in our typical daily lives. Eden is not a vacation destination, it is in itself a journey to a moment of authentic and unbridled actualization. It’s a venue to feel real in a world so unfamiliar with reality.

Exclusivity is a part of what makes this place so special. By experiencing Eden, an angler joins a small group of people who have witnessed the true, uninhibited wilderness.

I think about this upcoming trip every day. I have only three spots still available and I would love to share it with you. All the details can be found in the “Adventure With Me” tab, on the “Jungle Predators” page. I hope you’ll join us!

Cocos Keeling

I’ve been dreaming of this fish for the majority of my life and, I’m excited to finally be making the journey to the remote island of Cocos Keeling with some great friends. The crew at Hello Backing are hosting our group for 6 days of hunting the Giant Trevally and a number of bycatches. Among them are large Bonefish, Parrot Fish, and Triggers. As always, I’ll be there for the incredible experience but also, I intend on photographing the entire trip in depth to support plenty of literature to share here. 

We have two spots left available on this trip. Reach out for more details.

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