A few weeks ago I accompanied some Ski Patrol friends on a week fly fishing float trip down the infamous Smith River in Central Montana and managed to photograph a little bit along the way. The last time I floated it was over ten years ago when I was fresh out of college. Now a little more seasoned, I returned to make images that would speak to the beauty of the place. The river is managed by Montana State Parks by a special permit to float, the resulting experience is profound. We floated through tall limestone walled canyons that yielded incredible wildlife watching, great fishing and an ecosystem chocked full of aquatic insects making for prime trout habitat. Here are a few snapshots from our week exploring the river. What an incredible place right here in our Montana backyard. It’s an asset that is under threat. A proposed large copper mine directly adjacent to and underneath Sheep Creek at the headwaters of the Smith River in central Montana is under debate right now that would drastically impact this river system. This is a resource too precious to destroy. Help to fight for it. Check out more information about the proposed mine on Save Our Smith website. I can’t wait to float it again next year. Thanks for looking. Cheers, -M

As we stood at the Ulaanbaatar airport counter in the early morning, prior to our flight out to the Mongolian steppes, we were told that between eight anglers we would be limited to a total gear weight of 60 kilos between us. Things suddenly got interesting. This was news to us. Frantic to make our flight on time, we all started going throughout packs making quick decisions about what would stay and what would make the strict flight restrictions. Following our instructions to bring only the bare essentials for the day of fishing we got to work. The remainder of our clothes and equipment were to be trucked out that morning via a 12-hour off-road journey to our first ger camp. After many weigh in attempts still overweight, we finally got down the bare bones of our equipment and got the green light to board our small twelve passenger aircraft. Soon after we took off over the rugged mountainous Mongolian landscape. An hour and a half later we circled down to land in a field outside the small Mongolian village of Binder where our guides and Mongolian support staff with a selection of Russian 4×4 vans and Landcruiser idling ready to drive us to the river a couple of kilometers away.

“Welcome to Mongolia. Let’s wader up!” was the greeting and direction head Mongolia River Outfitter fishing guide Peter Fong gave us as our off-road transportation screeched to a halt at the banks of the Onon River. Finding our gear was easy. We exited our transports took a quick look around the fire colored banks of the Onon River, our home and fishing playground for the next week. No time was wasted. After a brief round of handshake introductions, our guides had us gear up, throw on our waders, string up our 8 weight Sage and Orvis fly rods, tie on a large custom streamer pattern called a “Chilean Goat” and load up into the four Clackacraft drift boats awaiting riverside all under the watchful eyes of our curious Mongolian hosts. We were going fishing and the taimen awaited.

As we cast off of the shore and started casting we finally had a chance to take in our surroundings. For me, the Mongolia steppes had a familiar feel to it. At first glance, I could have sworn its resemblance was identical to landscape features found in my Montana home. Wide open prairie met steep rolling mountain hills. The differences between Montana and Mongolia are more apparent once you spend some time there. No fences, no houses just pristine wilderness. A rare thing to find back in the states. We couldn’t have timed our trip better. Fall was in full swing and the local Mongolia flora was in full force autumn. Bright yellows, oranges, reds, and greens of birch trees, honeysuckle shrubs, sedges, willows, popular and larch trees littered the surrounding hillsides and the river bank. It was gorgeous. I took full advantage of the color pallet and was constantly making photos as we floated downstream.

I immediately felt at home on this river. The upper Onon River is one of the areas that are claimed to be the birthplace and home where Genghis Khan grew up. The Onon River eventually meets up with the Shilka and Amur water systems to form one of the world’s ten longest rivers. Being aware of how old this land was and the Mongol history that occurred here definitely amplified the excitement of the trip. So was the fact that this pristine watershed held some of the largest salmonids on earth we were destined to catch.

Not even twenty minutes into our float we started to get some fish action.

SMACK!!! The impact of one’s first Mongolian taimen startles you and catches you off guard. My first was a big one that gave me just enough time to see it roll over in the water, see it’s big broadside (I estimated at about 40 inches), and play it for a few seconds before it flipped off the end of my line. Holy shit! I thought. This was no ordinary fish. The descriptions we had heard of them prior to the trip were very accurate. Mongolian Terror Trout…River wolves…The Siberian Taimen are the largest salmonid fish in the world and the reason that our crew has traveled to the other side of the earth to pursue them in Mongolia. The species has earned their nicknames. Capable of reaching sizes up to 60in this aggressive fish preys on just about anything that swims near them including ducklings, gophers, mice, and other taimens. Fishing for them stripping large streamers from the drift boat towards the riverbanks is a similar approach used for catching trout, but these beasts are far larger and much more aggressive than their smaller trout counterparts. They strike your fly like a ton of bricks and put up one heck of a fight. Often times a missed hook up meant we could throw our fly back to the spot where we lost it and often the fish would hit it again and again. Getting the hook to set in their mouths was tricky due to the thickness of their jaws. We missed a lot more than we actually landed which made holding one all the more exciting. Luckily we had seven more days of fishing for taimen along with the large pike, lennox and amur trout. Let the fun begin. -M

 

 

In the Fall of 2015, as I was floating and fly fishing on the Madison River outside Bozeman, Montana with my fishing guide friend Mike Mansfield and the topic of an international fly fishing trip arose. It seemed like a no brainer idea. As we cast for brown trout that day on our home river, dreaming while weighing the pros and cons of such an endeavor quickly got us thinking seriously about it. It had been eight years since I had last left the country to backpack, fly fish and travel around South America with my brother Eric. Those types of trips that put you outside the familiar and one’s comfort zone tend to always be life-changing.

“Once the travel bug bites there is no known antidote, and I know that I shall be happily infected until the end of my life” – Michael Palin

“The bite of the travel bug,” a saying that often is reiterated on the backpacker trail holds a lot of truth. I know both my brother and I felt it. Alas, as we returned to the states from our 2008 six month trip and reintegrated into our domestic life, it was a feeling that never quite left us. My brother Eric would go on to be a bush pilot in Alaska while I would continue on to pursue my career as a photojournalist in newspapers throughout the American West supplemented with weekend fishing trips throughout Northern California, Oregon, and Montana as my escape from the daily grind.

Fast forward to last Fall, I had since left the newspaper life behind me and was two years into running my own photography business in Bozeman, Montana. Having just finished up my busy season of photographing weddings, portraits and a steady run of commercial work and assignments for national environmental non-for-profits, the sudden suggestion of another international fly fishing trip seemed like a damn fine idea and one to take seriously. Eight years had been too long of a hiatus. Further brainstorming of how we could pull off such a trip ensued. It just so happened that Mike had recently met up with a local guide friend of his that was running a fly fishing operation called Mongolia River Outfitters in remote Mongolia and suggested we look into making a trip a reality. I had never been to Asia before and though the thought had crossed my mind to venture to that part of the world, all too often the excuses and reasoning for not going due to career or other distractions has always got in the way of pursuing that dream trip. No longer.

As luck would have it, the outfitter friend of Mike’s was in need of revamping his photography for his fishing business operation and upon further discussions and conversations, he decided to hire me to document the experience. It was settled. We were going to Mongolia in the Fall of 2016. Let the trip planning begin.

Over the course of this year, we were able to amass a small crew of able fishermen friends to join Mike and I on this trip of a lifetime to pursuit one of the largest salmonid river fish in the world called taimen on a fly rod. It wasn’t exactly a hard sell. Traveling abroad to explore nearly eighty miles of the pristine Onon River in the remote Mongolian countryside near the birthplace of the legendary ancient Mongolia Emperor Genghis Khan. Ummm…Yes, please. We would be floating through the world’s first Taimen Sanctuary and cast for taimen, lenok, and trout on a fresh stretch of river every day while staying in a well-appointed ger camp every evening. Remote wildness cushioned by an authentic Mongolian camping experience. This was going to happen and as the months wound down to our departure date, we could barely contain our excitement.

The plan was to fly from Seattle, Washington to Beijing, China then board a plane to the capital city of Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. As with any big trip overseas, visas had to be applied for, our passports renewed and our gear for the trip packed up. At last our departure date had come.

After making our 18+ hour international flight on Hainan Airlines, we arrived at the Beijing airport. It was there, exhausted and in total culture shock, where we encounter our first hiccup of the trip. The Chinese version of TSA employed what appeared to be a bunch of fresh out of high school young adults. We got held up at the security check due to the numerous “suspicious” fly rods we were hauling and had to argue for them not to be confiscated as dangerous carry on items. There was a lot lost in translation and we were unwilling to have the rods (expensive and essential to the fishing trip) leave our sight. As a compromise with the Chinese authority, we took shifts guarding our precious cargo at the airport police station for the two hours until they could escort us with our rods to our connecting Mongolia flight. During that time kill, Mansfield took out his Orvis fly rod to show them what was in the metal transport tubes. He may have even made a sale to a passerby Chinese fisherman. The reasoning of our Chinese customs agents was questioned quietly amongst our group numerous times as we watched other international travelers make it through security with their fishing rods with no hassle. I guess we were special. They say it isn’t an adventure until something goes wrong. We swallowed our frustration and made the most of it.

Eventually, we made our way through the Chinese red tape and made our flight to Ulaanbaatar. Located in central Mongolia, the city of Ulaanbaatar has a population of over 1.3 million people and accounts for almost half of the country’s total population. Its history is a complicated one. Originally, it was set up as a mobile monastery-town at its peak having upwards of 20,000 practicing monks and as per tradition in Mongolian nomadic society, the city’s physical location changed dozens of times throughout the centuries as supply and other needs would demand. The city served as a cultural and commercial center. It would go on to be a midway point on trade routes between China and Russia with populations and government control from outside Chinese and Russian forces fluctuating throughout the ages. By the early 1920s, the country had fallen completely under Soviet Russia and it wasn’t until the year 1990 that opposition parties and numerous protests of citizens allowed the country to be free of their Russian rule. The city is now on the rise to be the new hub of 21st-century establishment within the country. The Soviet influence on the city can still be seen today. A mixture of tired old concrete soviet buildings intertwined with Mongolia ger camps. Driving through the city was to bare witness to some of the worst dysfunction of modern day traffic. Fender benders and car crashes seemed to be a norm for the locals and obeying street lanes and traffic lights appeared to be optional. To say the least, it isn’t the shiniest of cities I have ever visited but as we discovered on our 24-hour layover it did hold some gems.

The thought of having to juggle and coordinate the travel arrangements of five fishermen seemed like one hell of a hassle, so prior to leaving the states we opted to hired a travel agent to book our flights, hotels and even get us a travel guide for the times we would be in the city. We would have a day in the city to decompress, take in our new surroundings and explore some of the sights. The morning after our late night arrival, we met our guide Nana, a young Mongolian college girl who would be escorting and showing us some of the sites around the city. After breakfast at the hotel, our tour guide took us to The Gandantegchinlen Monastery, a Tibetan-style Buddhist monastery in Ulaanbaatar. In the 1930s, the Communist government of Mongolia, under the influence of Joseph Stalin, destroyed all but a few monasteries but thankfully spared the Gandantegchinlen Monastery. It reopened in 1944 and has continued as the main functioning Buddhist monastery as a token homage to traditional Mongolian culture and religion. With the end of Marxism in Mongolia in 1990, restrictions on worship were lifted and the site now receives quite a number of local visitors and tourist today. The Tibetan name translates to the “Great Place of Complete Joy”. It was pretty cool. Over 150 monks take up residence here and their chants could be heard as we approached the steps. Here I found some locals lighting prayer candles and the main attraction, the Avalokiteśvara, the tallest indoor statue in the world at 26.5-meters-high. Russian troops dismantled the original statue in 1938. After the end of the Soviet era, the statue of Avalokiteśvara was rebuilt in 1996, funded by donations by the Mongolian people. It was quite impressive.

As our day continued we sampled a Mongolian BBQ restaurant for lunch and spent the remainder of the afternoon resting from our long flight and preparing for the start of our fishing mission. Early the next morning, we met our additional travel companions for the fishing trip, a Texan and two brothers from Australia and boarded a small plane to fly two hours northeast into the remote Mongolia steppes towards our home for the next week, the pristine Onon River. -M

Fall in Montana and Wyoming has been exceptionally pretty this year. Perhaps it’s the small number of rainstorms that have allowed the colors to linger on the trees longer. It might just be my favorite time of year. I’ve been venturing over into Yellowstone National Park on my days off with intentions of finding spawning brown trout. While landing browns has been minimal, we did get into some sizeable rainbow trout. It’s been a while since I’ve brought my camera on a river trip and this time managed to snap a few picks in between my own casts. Hanging out with my buddy Mike and his college amigos gave me an opportunity to vicariously fish through my camera lens watching other anglers again. A familiar post. It was good to get back in the saddle but I must admit, I felt rusty. Still, I liked some photos that I got. Here are a few that stood out to me. I see more rivers on the horizon. Thanks for looking. Tight lines. -Mike

I’ve been wanting to share this post for months now. With permission from the Flyfish Journal, I wanted to reprint the article they recently featured on me and my fly fishing photography. Here is the story my friend Ryan Peterson wrote about me. What an honor to be featured in such a beautifully designed nationally printed magazine. I even had a photographer friend tell me he found a copy of it while on a cross country flight to Singapore. Pretty cool. I know many of you probably didn’t have access to check out the actual magazine while it was on newsstands so I wanted to share it here. Thanks for the continued support everyone! Cheers, -M

“I started my flyfishing photography in the trenches, documenting trout bums who slept under bridges and carried fish back to camp in their waders to cook for dinner with a Bic lighter,” says Bozeman, Montana-based photographer Mike Greener. While this sounds remarkably like a fishing story, Greener’s camera doesn’t lie. Through his lens we glimpse the color, grit, grandeur, excitement, silence, humor and myriad personalities that exist in today’s flyfishing culture. 

If the formula for successful photography is talent combined with insanely hard work, it’s no wonder Greener is at the top of his game. We’ve spent many days together on the water over the years and the one thing is certain: his work method is intense and straightforward. He is a perpetual-motion machine. He’ll swirl around a scene, looking for the perfect combination of light and subject and then lock on point when the dots connect. And her shoots constantly. “I don’t even hear the shutter anymore,” he says.

Sometimes his picture of the day pops out unexpectedly from a thousand others. Other times it is the result of a pre-visualized idea along with painstaking setup and repetition. Case in point: One of the most bizarre things I’ve ever done was stand in a river at dark in February and cast over and over again directly at Mike. Behind me, gazillion-candle-power floodlights turned night into day for 1/500th of a second as he fired the camera on every cast. This went on for hours. Frost blanketed everything. I was freezing; Greener was completely stoked.

Greener’s compositions eschew flyfishing trophy glory and pretty riverscapes, instead seeking, as he says, “to tell the story of how this person got to this point where he or she could battle and land an awesome fish.” 

A background in photojournalism–he studied at the University of Montana and then worked for newspapers in the trout capitols of Redding and Bozeman–lends itself well to his documentary sensibility, drawing us into wonderfully spontaneous and intimate moments. The result is a style distinct within modern flyfishing photography. Greener’s pictures are sometimes strange often stark, and always full of surprise, brilliant light and the familiar feeling that flyfishing is pretty much the best thing ever.” – Ryan Peterson, for the Flyfish Journal 5.2 winter issue, 2014

I’ve been in Montana for a little over a year now after moving here from California. While the normal routine in the past was for me was to always bring a camera out on my fly fishing missions, for 2012, I decided to take a break. I’ve stayed pretty busy at the newspaper throughout the year and my weekends became my place to get out and step away from it all. I wanted to be totally present and just study my new Montana surroundings. Also, I was too busy having fun fishing myself to set my rod down and make images. This past weekend I got after it, fishing two days in a row – one on the Madison River with my buddies Jimmy and Camille and the second floating the Yellowstone River with my buddies Sky and Ryan. The decision was made to bring along my camera. While I primarily fished throughout the weekend, I did manage to snap a couple pictures and even got the big brown trout I caught documented on camera (thanks Ryan for taking the picture). Look for more fly fishing photos throughout the year. The fly fishing photography hiatus is over. I’m ready to start documenting the Montana rivers again. Here we go. -M

My mini vacation/moving road trip has come to an end. Tomorrow I start my new job as a staff photojournalist at the Bozeman Daily Chronicle newspaper in Bozeman, Montana. As I was leaving California, I managed to squeeze in one last steelhead fly fishing trip with my buddies Kara, Allison and Ryan for a two day mission to the Eel River and Redwood Creek. As you can tell from the photos, we did a lot of walking this trip. It was slow on the fish catching front but overall we had a great time in the beautiful northern California scenery of giant redwood trees. Here are some of my favorites.

It’s never too cold to fish. Back in December I headed up north for another weekend steelhead mission with my friends Ryan and Rich. I am not a morning person but when there is an opportunity to float on the Rogue River, I somehow find the motivation. Coffee helps. We left Ryan’s house early in the morning for the long drive north into Oregon and met Rich stream side as he was putting the boat in the water. I love how different a river can look and feel in the middle of winter. The color palettes stream side take on pastel hues and there is this cold, beautiful stillness to the landscape. It was a nice change of scenery. In between swinging assassin flies on our spey rods, I took the time to photograph the guys fishing. Being out there in the cold was worth it. After years of steelhead fishing in northern California and Oregon, I finally ended up catching my first adult steelhead. Thanks for looking, -M

Back in November the urge to get out on the water over came me. In the last six years of living living here, I’ve come to really love winter steelhead fishing in northern California. Especially on the swing. I feel fortunate that some of my good friends share the same passion. This trip was my maiden voyage of my sweet new Echo Spey rod. I drove up with my buddy Allison (my partner in crime from my Alaska trip) from Davis and met my Redding friends Kara and Justin to head over to the Trinity River for a weekend of chasing chrome. Had a great time. Here are some of my favorite images from the weekend. Tight lines, -M

Again, special thanks to my sponsors Patagonia, Glacier Glove and Echo Rod Company for all of their assistance and their fantastic gear.

Holy moly! I’m a bit backed up with my blog posts. I’ve been meaning to post this one for a while now.  A couple months back I got an invite from my friend Allison to join her on a trip up to Alaska for a week of fly fishing for the coho salmon run on Kodiak Island. Allison is an aquatic biogeochemistry and community dynamics grad student in the Ecology Department at UC Davis and was headed up to Fairbanks, Alaska for a science conference. She decided to make a vacation out of it by going up early to have a go at the coho salmon. I have been trying to get to Alaska for years and her invite just happened to coincide with a time break in my wedding photography season. I didn’t hesitate for a second and agreed right there to treat myself to a well deserved mini vacation. Neither of us had ever been up to Alaska let alone the mostly remote Kodiak Island so we started doing some research. There are two ways to fish Kodiak Island – either by staying at a remote fancy/expensive fishing lodge or to fish along the road system. We went with the latter and ended up staying with some friends of hers who lived in the town of Kodiak. Our gracious hosts Matt and Mari lent us their old pickup truck for the week – a blessing and a curse where we had to constantly be monitoring the engine temperature due to it’s frequent overheating. They say it isn’t an adventure until something goes wrong. Kodiak is an island about 250 miles southwest of Anchorage with over 3,500 square miles of rugged wild terrain which makes it the second largest island in the United States behind Hawaii. The place is notorious for it’s lousy, rainy weather but is legendary for it’s salmon runs and large brown bears. We spent the week exploring the river systems of the Buskin River, the American, the Pasagshak and Russian Creek in search of coho salmon. It’s harder than it looks. We caught plenty of pink salmon, a few Dolly Vardens and “luckily” Allison hooked into and landed three silver salmon. I suppose it’s hard to catch a silver salmon with a camera in hand. Alas, I was skunked in the coho department. I redeemed myself later in the week when Matt took Allison and I out on his 60 foot boat for two afternoons of deep sea fishing. I’d never done it before and had a great time catching my first Halibut and a copious amount of rock fish. All in all it was an incredible trip. Alaska is too damn big to conquer in a mere week but I must say that I am in love with it. I will definitely be back soon. -M

Special thanks to my sponsors Patagonia, Glacier Glove and Echo Rod Company for all of their assistance and their fantastic gear.

Last weekend I headed up north to the Klamath River with my buddy Ryan Peterson and his friend Scott Tucker in search of winter steelhead. I’ve been to this river a lot. With the lack of rain throughout northern California the last couple of weeks, the Klamath offered the best river conditions out of any nearby watershed. We took it upon ourselves to do some exploring of new hard to reach river access points. This meant a lot of bushwhacking through thick blackberry patches and steep hikes down into the river valley. It’s a beautiful place. Bright neon green moss covers the jagged sedimentary rocks along the river bank. We made camp stream side where Ryan cooked a tri-tip for sandwiches over our campfire while Scott supplied us with fine Napa Valley Pinot Noir. It was so nice to be back in the mountains again. Alas, no steelhead would be landed this trip. Here are a couple photos I made during the weekend.

After a grueling summer long hiatus from fly fishing, I finally remedied the situation. Last weekend I met up with my good buddy Ryan Peterson of The Fly Shop and The Big Pull for a weekend fishing for steelhead along the banks of the Klamath River in Northern California. I spent most of my time with a spey rod in hand but I did manage to pick up my camera for a little bit. Here are a couple shots that caught my eye. Tight lines.

I checked the mail the other day to find that the newest edition of The Flyfish Journal issue #3 has been published. It’s exciting because I had another one of my photographs published as a double truck in the opening spreads. I’ve been with these guys from the beginning and I am anxious to see where they take it next. These guys are rewriting the definition of the fishing magazine at a time when the industry and magazines in general are in a state of flux. The magazine has coffee table quality printing, is well written and has excellent photo play. I have yet to find another venue that displays my photos so well. You can check the magazine out for yourself here or find it at any major publication store like Borders or Barnes and Noble. Sweet.



Photo of me by Matt Payne





I’m almost embarrassed to admit it but I haven’t been fly fishing since last November. It has been a constant annoyance for me not being able get out and fish. It’s funny how quickly prior commitments build up and begin to consume so much of your time. I was in dire need of getting out onto a river system. Enter Montana fishing guide Matt Payne. This past weekend I had the opportunity to go fish with Matt and his buddy Matt Swan, a guide for The Fly Shop, on the Lower Sacramento River up in my old stomping grounds of Redding, California. Payne has recently moved to the Sacramento area with his wife Janelle and has been actively scouting out northern California rivers for his guiding business. He’s a great guy and a damn fine fisherman. We made a day of hooking into rainbow trout, drinking Coors, and talking all things fish. You couldn’t ask for a better day. This trip was a real treat for me because for the majority of the time, I had a fly rod in my hand and not a camera. Sometimes it’s nice to change it up. Still, shooting pictures is hard to resist. I made a few frames of the Matt’s rowing and nympthing near the Sundial bridge that I was pleased with considering it was high noon sun beating down on us.

Later on I met up with an old fishing buddy of mine Justin Miller, of The Fly Shop, and we cooked up some Argentina style steaks and as a happy experiment, we grilled poblano chili peppers stuffed with feta cheese and wrapped in bacon. I’ll be thinking about that meal all week. Justin is probably one of the most talented fly tyers I know. He was all stoked about his upcoming stripper fishing trip and with that, he decided to design a new fly for the occasion. I have yet to meet someone who gets so pumped about fishing like Justin does. The guy thinks like a fish. Like a true perfectionist, he left nothing to chance and decide to test out his new pattern in his bath tub and if need be would make design adjustments. It was so nice to be in the company of trout bums again. It was an overall killer weekend. Already looking forward to the next outing. -M








I just got back from a weekend fishing the Klamath River with my buddy Ryan Peterson, travel specialist at The Fly Shop. It was just gorgeous this time of year. The fall colors were really popping. I recently purchased a new Profoto AcuteB 600R power pack and lamp head and decided to test them out this weekend. Oh the possibilities. I think I am just scratching the surface with these images of the fly line ripping off the water. I was really pleased with the results. The best part of the trip was that I finally landed my first (small) steelhead. A long time coming. It was great to be back out on a river.

On a side note, I wanted to thank all of you for your votes and support of my work. The book voting end yesterday on the 9th of November. I really appreciate all of the feedback and comments you all posted. Alas, after getting around 265 votes I don’t think I reached enough to make it into the final round of the book judging but I was able to reconnect with many of you and meet some new friends in the process. I look at it as a challenge to improve for the next time. Thanks again everyone. Tight lines, -M









Ever since landing my job in Fairfield, California I have been hard pressed to get the time to go fly fishing. Regardless of the direction I could head, it would be a solid 2-3 hour drive to get to some decent trout streams. And with that knowledge, there always seemed to be something else occupying my attention. It was maddening. So when a scheduling change up at work allowed me a four day weekend, there was only one thing on my mind. I needed to get my line wet. My brother Eric is a pilot up in Alaska and after one of our weekly phone conversations, the idea of a road trip came up. One of the perks of his job is his ability to fly for free on Alaskan Airlines. I proposed a weekend fishing mission to the greater Yosemite National Park/Eastern Sierra mountains and he jumped at the idea. Weeks went by and all the necessary preparations were made. I picked Eric up at the San Francisco Airport around 11 p.m. and we decided to push on (4 hours) through the night driving all the way to Mammoth Lakes. Having never fished the area before, stopped at one of the local fly shops in the area called The Trout Fly and ended up getting the scoop from Granite, one of the knowledgeable guides in the shop. For the next three days we fished the Upper Owens River, Hot Creek and the Tuolumne River within Yosemite National Park landing countless 10-12 inch rainbows and brookies. Nothing to do cartwheels over, but it was a great opportunity to scratch the fly fishing itch, make some cool night photographs, explore the pretty scenery and catch up on each others lives while sharing a bourbon bottle between us.


After a pain-stakingly long hiatus from fishing due to my new job in the Bay Area, I was finally able to get out of town last weekend for a two day steelheading mission to the North Umpqua river in southern Oregon. I met up with my good buddy Ryan Peterson, of The Fly Shop and his long time friend Dan from Colorado late Friday evening in Redding. We made our final gear checks, loaded up Ryan’s old Land Crusier and and hit the road for the five hour journey into steelhead country.

After a pain-stakingly long hiatus from fishing due to my new job in the Bay Area, I was finally able to get out of town last weekend for a two day steelheading mission to the North Umpqua river in southern Oregon. I met up with my good buddy Ryan Peterson, of The Fly Shop and his long time friend Dan from Colorado late Friday evening in Redding. We made our final gear checks, loaded up Ryan’s old Land Crusier and and hit the road for the five hour journey into steelhead country.