May 6th, 2026

I’m writing these words from a white clad work station at a random gate number on the B-Concourse of the Denver airport. I’ve left Valhalla for the Spring and, in a short 12 hours of being gone thus far, I’m already sorrowfully missing it. I’m struggling to get myself amped up for the ongoing season on the High Lonesome and Lil’ New Zealand but, I’m confident that once I get the shovels digging, it won’t take long for the excitement to return. I’ll have more information about the spectacular theater I’ve been operating in for the last month below, and a few other announcements about the program we’ve established there so; stay tuned. 

Unfortunately, I’m returning home to a spout of chaos, and I’m asking all my readers for your prayers today. My mother has been suffering from Progressive supranuclear palsy for roughly five years and in recent days, her condition has reached a low point. I got the call yesterday that her body has given up and at this very moment, the medical staff are keeping her stable and comfortable to the best of their abilities, in an effort to keep her holding on for a bit longer – so that I can be there in her last moment. Tough day, to say the least. If you’re chatting with the Big Dog today, please put in a good word for my mom. I appreciate you all. 

This week’s creative piece is called “Home in the Real.” I wrote it in an airport as well, about a year ago, when my own expiration date was staring me in the face; and in an act of desperation, I jumped on a mining job in rural Alaska to stack a hearty additional life insurance policy atop of the few things I’d leave behind for my little Moose to inherit. I worked a rotating shift and flew from our sleepy little county in western Wyoming, to the Arctic Circle, every month. Travelling has a way of waking the muse for me and, I decided to create something to submit to the Phi Kappa Phi Forum’s semi annual contest – under the categorical theme “Travel by plane.”

It didn’t make it much further than initial judgment in the contest so, I’ll leave it to you to decide if it’s worth sharing. In any case, I hope you enjoy.

Artificial Existence

From Kenai to Fontenelle, my heart is scattered among the pine littered banks,
the sage laden hillsides, and the razor rock alpine peaks.  
Tomorrow I’ll walk the same path as the grizzlies, 
meandering through the treeline to the sound of the loon’s call. 
And my mind will clear of the tragedy of existence.

I’ll step into the glacier blue wade and again be reminded of the color of her eyes.
The cool water will rush past my knees and its frigid touch will permeate through my waders and beyond, perfusing into my skin and joints…

And soul. 

In the coming days, I’ll return to the divide and breathe the sparse air that lingers near the sun,
where the critters far outnumber the neighbors and the war cry of a bull elk reverberates off a canyon wall before slithering through the organic chessboard of ever changing aspens. 

If it’s loud enough, it might inspire their green leaves to abandon their badge of summer,
leaving no trace of the short lived season within their tapestry of fiery reds and oranges. 
Shortly after, the hierarchy of the rut will dismantle and the cool north wind will bring a shiver.
In a single violent compulsion, the once ostentatiously vibrant grove will fall from grace.

The floor will be littered in the remnants of their annual glory and the basin will quiet in the wake of their naked and sorrowful condition while they await the spring and our renewed admiration.  

My peace transcends the abstraction of the real. 

Between my homes in the natural world, an intermediary exists. 
A purgatory for which I routinely pass through by unnatural means, surrounded by unnatural creatures, in an unnatural environment.
I navigate through the crowd of aimless bipedal animals as their eyes remain fixed on the fluorescent glow in their palms, and they bounce off each other, moving with only a semblance of intention. 
I join them as we stack upon one another in a metal container and it burns the hydrocarbons left behind by ancient life, which serve to thrust the vessel into the atmosphere.

From behind the tempered glass covered hole I can see the natural world and I miss it. 
The bot charged with piloting the craft speaks to us synthetically from behind his locked, reinforced door.  
He assures the herd that their simulated lives will continue on, as we have arrived at our destination. 
A sudden episode of stimulation inspires the drones to stand with purpose. 

Motivated by food, sex and a reprieve from their congested condition, they funnel into the maze of concrete walls and vendor kiosks, and I follow. 
I can see the mighty Winds on the horizon as I leave the architecture of the manufactured world behind me, and with it the masses of artificial being. 

I’ll be home within the hour. Home in the real. 

Valhalla

Ryan, Stu and I have been quietly working on something in the background and, to call it a life-changing experience wouldn’t do it justice. Nestled within a beautiful little maritime community deriving from nomadic vikings of the 19th century, glacial waters and mountain streams serve to create a web of anadromous salmonid super highway systems. We arrived at the beginning of the month and settled in for the long & arduous task of establishing an outfit; totally independent and fueled by nothing more than ambition and grit. We succeeded in our efforts as we acquired a large live-aboard vessel and an inflatable jet boat to launch from it with. 

Once established, the real work began. We ground it out hard on the rivers, competing against the cold & wet elements to find migrating Steelhead. It wasn’t for nothing. We found the runs we had been looking for and we adjusted our methods until we found the swing and fly they would fixate on. 

Now, I am confidently taking bookings for the 2027 Spring Season. 

Come with me, into an extremely secluded rainforest, to hunt one of the last truly wild strains of anadromous Steelhead; totally and entirely uninhibited by any pseudo-aquaculture development programs. You simply won’t find a more pristine run of these elusive salmonids and places like this, where the opportunities come by the bushel, are quite the anomaly in the Steelhead Angler’s natural world.

It’s for all these reasons we call this magical venue “Valhalla.”

I spent all of April hunting these unicorns and in those long periods between fish; when the coastal fog rolls in from the sound and saturates your entirety in a salty mist, and the chill of a mountain spring imposes its frigidity on the bones in your feet, the culmination of it all might inspire you to wonder what true happiness is. I’ve come to understand that it’s different for every one but for me, it’s something both difficult and simple. It’s hard but it’s not complicated. 

True happiness is a long, maddening journey riddled with challenges and adventures which eventually lead to meeting the best kind of people in a foreign and dangerous arena, and an eventual triumph over the type of being that only few will ever experience. 

It’s the uncertainty and self doubt that lingers in your back pocket, next to a very thin wallet, weighted by an immeasurable type of hope, and bound to the task before you with determination and discipline. It’s you found in your lunch sack and is now securely stowed in your pocket that reads: 

“We miss you already and I’m positive it will get worse, lol. We are grateful for all you do for us, even when it means you’re gone like this.” 

It’s loading into a pickup at 19:00 and setting your bearing in cohesion with a westbound wind. It’s navigating the rural network of intermountain highways in the dark and watching the morning light around you grow in intensity as it floods the Columbia River Gorge. It’s an 08:00 text from your partner asking “How far did you make it last night?” and a response that reads, “I didn’t stop last night, I’m still pushing.”

It’s a two hour nap in the parking lot of Multnomah Falls, a hike to the top, and the reminiscent tingle of Stinging Nettle on the skin of my arm. It’s sushi in Portland, another overnight push into Seattle and a visit to the Space Needle. It’s a rush hour commute in a metropolitan area that spans from downtown to uptown, and all the way to the coast. It’s a traffic stop by a very patient highway patrol officer, and all the help needed by the maritime crew to get a hapless man and his accompanied vehicle loaded onto a gigantic, northbound ship.  

True happiness is a sun setting on a horizon that might cause a man to wonder if the world ends there at the edge, and a few whales coming in close enough to welcome you into their home, as the monstrous vessel carries you into a dark unknown. True happiness is that first evening aboard, when you can’t settle your mind from the excitement of wondering what the world will look like when you wake. It’s an early morning sun rising behind you as you stand in the cool air on the sky deck positioned at the bow of the boat, and mountains and waterfalls surround you in every direction while the ship captain cautiously maneuvers through a tight channel between land masses.  

It’s landing at 23:00, settling in, and wading by 07:00 the next day. It’s meeting the local wildlife officer and he already knows your name and outfit. It’s a town of people so hospitable and welcoming, you feel less like a stranger and more like an old neighbor returning from a long period of absence. 

It’s the feeling of soggy hands gripping the cork of a spey rod, the 100th anchor and D-Loop you’ve cast in a morning, and the optimism that boils in your gut when you notice that perfect swing for the first time. 

It’s all the work, and sleepless seasons, and personal challenges, and despair; culminating into an opportunity to chase something perceived by many as an impossible endeavor – and in the halflight of a mountain canyon, while standing in knee high water, it’s the vindication that washes over you when a chrome anadromous fish, still littered with sea-lice, bursts from the current and performs an array of the most beautiful acrobatics you’ve ever witnessed. 

True happiness is confidence in knowing your future isn’t a vast abyss of the unknown any longer and that with surety, you’ll cut your plot here and make something of yourself and your team, for the next generation to inherit and steward, as you have. It’s landing that awe inspiring, jaw droppingly beautiful fish with the help of your best pal and mentor, and a slow motion video when it’s released that truly illustrates the gravity of the moment by the look on each of your faces.  

That’s what true happiness looks like for me. I can’t know what it looks like for you. It could be a duplicate of everything I described or, it could be something entirely different. What I do know for sure however, is that you will find it in Valhalla. You couldn’t miss it if you tried. 

Come with me, to a very special and absurdly wild place. Let’s explore what true happiness looks like together.

As of right now, I have some limited availability for the Fall season of 2026 and I am currently booking Spring of 2027. For many Steelhead anglers, the concept of dozens of opportunities per day is foreign but, that will change once you’ve experienced Valhalla. Beyond steelhead, we also target the entire gamut of migrating Salmon and in the Fall, we also offer trophy sea duck hunts! Give me a holler by filling out the form below or, reach me via my “About Me” page. I’d love to fill you in on the details of our trips.

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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