DUN Magazine Print - Fall Winter 2017

“Nature conceals her mystery by her essential grandeur.�

Albert Einstein

Features

Fall - Winter 2017

Still Water

16

Finding peace in the shelter of this sport leads to a state of mind

by LILA WARREN

Perspective

32

Fly fishing these days as a woman needs to be put into perspective

by ANNA ORTEGA

Cover

Twenty Eight Years

56

Fourteen countries, four continents, 12 species of fish, and a world of experiences

by SUSAN ROCKRISE

Firsts

96

The trip of a lifetime to the North Seal River of Northern Manitoba leads to many firsts

by WANDA TAYLOR

The Stages of Grief

110

The five stages of grief take on a whole different meaning for one angler

by HANNAH KRAMER

Due North unfathomable

56

Susan Rockrise, photographed by R. Valentine Atkinson, has lived a life we can only dream of

134

The search for giant brook trout leads this angler to an unexpected fishery

by LIZ OGILVIE

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No rod has ever silenced all the variables.

No engineer has ever found a way to transfer back-cast energy directly into forward accuracy.

No angler has ever erased all the doubt from his or her mind.

FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING.

departments

Contents 7 12 28 30 31 31 48

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Letter From the Editor DUNmagazine.com Dear Everett 5 Things To Know About Winter Fishing We Hear You 2 Waders We Love The Little Girl Who Could

WINTER

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28

Looking Forward

FOUNDATION

10

Ask the Industry Professional

92

GET TO KNOW

54 92 142

Paula Shearer The Forged Fly By Matt Hart DUN Magazine

GEAR

52 130

Why It’s Worth It Happy Holidays Gift Guide

BASICS

14

Layering

SAFETY

106

Maintaining A Healthy Casting Arm

REFRESHMENT

144

S’mores Adult Hot Chocolate

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Fall-Winter 2017

GRANDEUR

JEN RIPPLE Founder & Editor-In-Chief jen@DUNmagazine.com Janell Fannin Managing Editor

Meg Humphries Marketing Director

Mēgan Berns Editor-at-Large

Nome Buckman Contributing Editor

Grace Erin Associate Editor

Jessica Callihan Creative Director

Hope Halla Editorial Assistant GENERAL INQUIRIES editor@DUNmagazine.com SUBSCRIPTION INQUIRIES subscriptions@DUNmagazine.com

Sue Fey Copy Editor ADVERTISING ads@DUNmagazine.com SUBMISSIONS editor@DUNmagazine.com

CONTRIBUTORS Joe Allison R. Valentine Atkinson Brandon Miller Photography Mēgan Berns Marcelo Caiozzi Anita Coulton Molly Elliott Janell Fannin Gangler’s Seal River Lodge Matt Gocke Jimmy Hague Hope Halla Matt Hart Tyler Hern Megan Hess Heather Hodson Hilary Hutcheson Matt Jennings Daniel Kim

Stevie Kim Hannah Kramer Benjamin Kraushaar Emerald LaFortune Dana Lattery Paul Lecat Steve Longfield Jess McGlothlin Mark McGlothlin, Dry Fly Media Mark Melnyk Clayton Miller Debby Moore Eric Neufeld Liz Ogilvie Anna Ortega Susan Rockrise Paula Shearer Wanda Taylor Lila Warren

 Follow us on Instagram instagram.com/DUNmagazine

PUBLISHER Fly Squared Media 316 Hidden Valley Road Dover, TN 37058 p.224.532.9160 FlySquaredMedia.com

On The Cover Susan Rockrise photographed by world-renowned photograper R. Valentine Atkinson nets a perfect Sockeye Salmon while fishing in Alaska.

Inside Cover Mount Lincoln, Colorado photographed by Brandon Miller Photography sits in her majestic Rocky Mountain fall glory.

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100% RECYCLABLE

i Green-Zine

EDITORIAL AND ADVERTISING OFFICE DUN Magazine 316 Hidden Valley Road Dover, TN 37058 DUNmagazine.com editor@DUNmagazine.com DUN Magazine ISSN #2573-3184 is published by Fly Squared Media, LLC, 316 Hidden Vally Road, Dover, TN 37058. The cover and contents of DUN Magazine are fully protected by copyright and cannot be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission. All rights reserved in all countries. DUN Magazine assumes no responsibility for unsolicited photographs and manuscripts.

Submissions cannot be returned without a self-addressed envelope. ©2017 Fly Squared Media.

Printed in the United States of America.

GRANDEUR

Unbridled Sentiment A few words from our Editor-In-Chief

Right now in Middle Tennessee the fall colors are in full bloom. Living on 10 wooded acres in the middle of the Land Between the Lakes is beautiful to begin with, but when you add the colors of fall, in all their majesty, it becomes truly breathtaking.

How many times have you been on the water and stopped, mid strip, to look up and take in the magnificence around you? I know I have more times than I can count. In fact, I’ve missed a lot of fish because I’ve been caught up in that moment. And, I’m ok with that. The beauty surrounding our sport is hard to explain and almost impossible to capture.

After the release of our first magazine, I have to admit, I spent more than a couple sleepless nights wondering how we could top the beauty of the inaugural edition. Then, I took a look at the story and the photographs accompanying this edition’s cover article, Twenty Eight Years, and the subsequent feature articles, and knew that was not going to be an issue. The ability to put into words and capture in photographs this transcends talent, and is a rare gift.

Our contributors have done just that and I am excited to share this gift with you.

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The unbridled sentiment and candor portrayed by those who share their lives with us in these pages has once again humbled and astounded me. Their stories will motivate you to take that once in a lifetime trip, encourage you to pause and reflect, and examine the importance of loved ones in your life before it’s too late.

Soon the crackle of brightly-colored leaves under our feet will turn into holiday bells and carols. In many places, white will cover the ground. Our favorite fishing places will freeze

grandeur

over, and a different type of will appear. In the hustle and bustle that is the season upon us, do not make the mistake of missing the most important things this life has to offer – family, friends, and the beauty that surrounds us every day.

A tasting of Belle Meade Bourbon, an award winning, small-batch, high rye bourbon steeped in over a century of history from Nelson’s Green Brier Distillery - Nashville, Tennessee.

With greatest appreciation to those who have made this edition possible, and to you, our reader,

Jen@DUNmagazine.com @Jen_Ripple

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winter

Looking Forward to

WINTER

In anticipation of long

nights and holidays

SEEING FAMILY I’m looking forward to creating memories with my family. Sitting around a crackling fire, hot chocolate in hand and chocolate chip cookies in the oven, while Christmas music plays and light dances off the crystal ornaments. I’m looking forward to watching my grandchildren and great-grandchildren create memories of their own: sledding down hills, ice skating, making snow angels, having snowball fights, and catching snowflakes on their tongues.

Gina - reader from Wisconsin

STEELHEADING It’s hard to look forward to winter without the thought of steelhead dancing in my head, and above the water. Two-handed rods, their frozen guides, and dancing indicators are the perfect way to calm down after a chaotic week of shopping, company parties, and ugly sweaters. Throw a cup of holiday cheer in after a fish in the net and it’s all perfection.

Jen

HOLIDAY SHOPPING WEARING THE OTHER HALF OF MY CLOSET Winter may not exactly be the anglers’ favorite season, but one thing winter is good for is wearing the other half of your closet. There is something refreshing about pulling back your hangers and getting to wear clothes you haven’t worn in months, some of which still smell like last Christmas.

Hope

I love the hustle and bustle of the holiday season in Chicago. Walking along Michigan Avenue to check out the window displays, while eating roasted chestnuts from the Christkindlmarket in Daley Plaza, is one of my favorite things. The smell of cinnamon and pine in the crisp cold air reminds me that Christmas is that much closer! Even the crowded sidewalks that result from the annual Holiday parade, only made more congested by overflowing gifts in each person’s hand, make me happy because it reminds me the time is almost here! As if my 20 trips to the car, because I overbought (once again), isn’t enough of a reminder.

Grace

THE FIRST SNOW From the moment I feel the brush of cold air, my thoughts and wishes of winter are ushered in with child-like anticipation! When the first flakes of snow fall from the sky, I grab my cozy beacon blanket, and hop up on the iron bed on the sleeping porch for a winter viewing that truly resembles a snow globe, as the windows provide that panoramic view ... perfect to absorb the visual display. Simply, winter is magical .

Debby - reader from Tennessee What are you excited about this Winter? Tell us what you are doing this winter at editor@DUNmagazine.com or use the hashtag #DUNwomen when posting on social media.

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GRANDEUR

®

2018

DENVER, CO JANUARY 5, 6 & 7 MARLBOROUGH, MA JANUARY 19, 20 & 21 EDISON, NJ formerly Somerset JANUARY 26, 27 & 28 ATLANTA, GA FEBRUARY 2 & 3 LYNNWOOD, WA FEBRUARY 17 & 18 PLEASANTON, CA FEBRUARY 23, 24 & 25 LANCASTER, PA MARCH 3 & 4

Fly Fishing is NOT part of the show

IT IS THE SHOW!

flyfishingshow.com

foundation

Ask The Industry

PROFESSIONAL

expertise

A bobber from the mid 1800’s in Middle Tennessee, or is it a strike indicator?

Learn from their

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foundation

Samantha - Maine, USA

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McGLOTHLIN Jess McGlothlin Media

JessMcGlothlinMedia.com

Tough question! And the answer is, there’s a long list … a very long list! Any trip always has to tick multiple boxes — solid fishing and strong photography/ story opportunities. This past year, that criteria has led me off the beaten path to the Peruvian Amazon, rural northern Japan, and a host of other places. But for 2018? I’ve always been keen on trekking around the U.K. I would love to fish my way through the countryside, get a bit of hunting done on the side, and just photograph the culture; a little something different from my normal “I’ll just sleep in a hammock over there” routine. A friend recently brought the Cothi River in Wales to my attention as an astounding sea trout fishery. Sounds like a good place to start, then work my way around from there, connecting with local anglers and just exploring!

Lary’s Fly and Supply

llio tt

Jess works as a freelance photographer and writer in the outdoor industry.

While on assignment the past few years, Jess has learned how to throw spears at coconuts in French Polynesia, dodge saltwater crocodiles in Cuba, and ride SUPs down jungle rivers in Peru. She’s based out of Bozeman, MT.

HILARY Hutcheson

Ne

SpokaneWomenOnTheFly.com

E lly Mo

www.facebook.com/larysflyandsupply

They might not be the most epic locations in the whole world, but truly the places I most want to go in 2018 are the Florida Keys and Puerto Rico. It’s just so important that we support the talented captains in these areas, as they help their communities recover from the hurricanes. I saw one captain from the Keys post on Facebook that if people really want to help, they should book a guided fly fishing trip, and help keep the industry alive. There are certainly a lot of great fly fishing adventures all across the world, but it seems like helping out in our own backyard is the right thing to do. I’d like to swing some hammers, and help out with the rebuild, or whatever they need. Then, I’d like to see what I can catch on a fly.

Hilary started her fly fishing career as a teenage guide in the wilds of West Glacier, Montana. Today, she continues to guide at Glacier Anglers, and run her fly shop, Lary’s Fly & Supply. She loves hanging out with her two teenage daughters, especially when they volunteer on the oars.

I’ve had the opportunity to fish many places in the last few years, but admit that the US still has my heart. Big browns on dries in Chile, dorado on poppers, stripping streamers for roosters, a crab placed perfectly getting a trigger’s attention, and sight fishing for bonefish, don’t compare to swinging flies for rainbow trout in Bristol Bay, Alaska. Two-handed fishing is intimate.

Every movement is precise. There’s continual connection with your line. You feel every tap of the river bottom, and bump of fish. Each cast in Bristol Bay gives you a REALLY good chance to hook into the fish of a lifetime! The fish are chrome, gigantic and put on a fight that you’ll never forget. It’s not, “if I could travel,” it’s when am I going back.

Heather works hard to play even harder. Her main focus is to break barriers, and teach the art of fly fishing. Heather’s passion for conservation, energy for getting women involved, enthusiasm for living life, and thinking outside the box is infectious.

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Spokane Women on the Fly

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Jess

HEATHER Hodson

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If you could travel to one place in 2018, where would it be?

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Jen RIPPLE DUN Magazine DUNmagazine.com

My mom is Russian and was born during World War II. My great-grandmother, grandmother, uncle, and mom were sponsored to the United States in 1951, from a displaced person’s camp in Germany. I grew up hearing them speak Russian, and eating borscht and stuffed green peppers. Their stories are all I know of Russia. Stories of bombings that turned black hair grey, hiding in closets to escape the SS soldiers, and the kindness of a US soldier, who threw a chocolate bar out of his plane when they were starving. That chocolate bar kept them alive for a week. These stories have haunted me my whole life. I grew up knowing how fortunate I was to be alive, and to live in this country.

I grew up knowing I would never have been strong enough to survive like they did. I guess, as everyone talks about Kamchatka, that I would like to face my haunts and go to Russia; not to fish Kamchatka, but to fish where my grandmother fished with a fly rod so many years ago, and where the strongest people I know were born.

Jen is the Founder and Editor-in-Chief of DUN Magazine.

Do you have a question for our experts or is there something you’re curious about? We want to hear from you.

Email us at editor@DUNmagazine.com and your question could be featured in our Spring issue.

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online

DUNmagazine.com

Visit our website for more fly fishing, take aways, stories, guides, knowledge, and DUN digital.

Lifestyle Public Lands and Congress Jen Ripple

As Americans, we consider ourselves a cultured people, and rightfully place high value on the arts. The arts allow us to speak a common language regardless of social, economical, or racial barriers. Nowhere is this more evident than in the great city of Nashville. As the Editor-inChief of an international fly fishing magazine, and an avid angler, I view our national monuments, parks, and public lands as a form of art. Like a beautiful painting, the vast open spaces ...

DUNmagazine.com/lifestyle

Science

Education

Mercury & Dragonflies

Path to Conservation

Megan Hess

Mia Sheppard

It’s always interesting for me, being an aquatic biologist and angler, to look down into the water and see the diversity of life on the bottom of a beautiful stream. It wasn’t until recently, during my time researching invertebrates, that I now go out to a stream while fishing, and wonder how much mercury, a neurotoxin, is in the body of the small critter my fly is trying to resemble.

Twenty years ago if someone would have told me I was going to run a fly fishing business one day, and steelhead would be my biggest passion, and I was going to be a mother, I would have called bullshit ...

Billowing smoke stacks of coal burning industries fill the Midwest. These rolling fumes contain mercury (Hg) that ...

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DUNmagazine.com/tags/education

Take Aways Fly Line Tapers DUN Team

In this edition’s Firming Your Foundation, we are going to talk about line weights. Now, remember this is a brief overview, and by no means a comprehensive package. For the sake of time and sanity, we will be talking about weight forward, double taper, and shooting heads.

For the most part, the name of the line already explains a bit about it, but just to firm your foundation a bit more, we will go into detail ...

DUNmagazine.com/tags/dun-take-away photo Jimmy Hague

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ELITE LEVEL RODS AT A PRICE THAT WON’T MAKE YOU PEE YOUR WADERS. Designed by Bob Clouser, the Clouser Series provides uncompromised versatility. From tiny dries to hulking streamers these wonderfully light rods deliver with an easy loading, progressive action - just what you need to launch a Clouser Minnow a country mile.

Visit TFORODS.COM to find out more.

POWER TO THE ANGLER.

online basics

Getting Back to Some

BASICS

we think you should know.

The Do’s and Don’ts of Layering

No way to get around it, the seasons are changing and winter is upon us. Unless you live in the deep south, you’re going to need to bundle up this winter. Knowing what to do, and just as important, what not to do, is vital in keeping yourself safe and warm on the water this winter.

The Do’s Do - Start with a base layer. This layer is meant to trap warm air next to your body and pull sweat away from your skin. The most overlooked of all layers, this one is right up at the top as the most important part of your layering system. A snug fit on your base layer is key. It should fit right up against your skin for maximum benefit. I’m a fan of 100% Merino wool base layers, but if you’re sensitive to wool, Capilene is a great alternative.

Do - Follow the base layer with a mid-layer.

This is an insulation layer and, much like the base layer, is an important part of trapping heat in and moving moisture out. Ideal mid-layers are low-profile, meaning they insulate without feeling bulky, and allow air to permeate. Think fleece or wool. While I like both fleece and wool, the Voormi Confluence hoodie is my absolute go-to. It may be a bit pricey as a mid-layer, but it’s so worth it.

Do - Know yourself. I’m always cold, so I use the four-layer approach and add another heavier mid-layer usually made of natural or synthetic down. It is important to note that natural down won’t insulate when wet. This extra layer adds extra warmth I tend to need (unless I’m in hot flash mode). Patagonia came out with the Tough Puff, which is super comfortable and has thumb holes, so the tops of my hands are covered. Thumbs up for that little detail.

Do - Wear an outer layer, also called a shell. Inclement weather happens when we least expect it, so preparation is the best offense. I prefer a hard shell, which offers no insulation, but blocks the wind, rain, sleet, and snow. Choose a shell that is breathable and functional. I like the Patagonia River Salt Jacket, because of the adjustable, waterproof cuffs, the comfort of fit over my other layers, and the fleece-lined pockets.

basics The Don’ts Don’t - Wear cotton. You’ve heard the term “cotton kills,” but do you know why it’s important to stay away from cotton? In cold, wet weather, when cotton gets wet (even by perspiration), all of the air pockets in the fabric fill up with water and no longer insulate. The worst material you can wear in the winter is cotton.

Smartwool - Merino 250 Base Layer MSRP $100.00 Their best selling, and warmest, base layer has an improved fit, chafefree seam construction, and panels that offer more comfort with a pack. We love this base layer so much we wear it all the time.

Don’t - Forget the bottom half of your body.

Layering for only the top half of your body is a mistake. Wearing a base layer and mid-layer under your waders in the winter is a must.

SmartWool.com

Don’t - Neglect your feet. Having frozen feet is super uncomfortable and makes for a rough day on the water. First grab a sock base layer and cover them with thick wool socks. Find the brand that fits you best and stock up.

Don’t - Neglect your hands. I’d love to say I’ve found the perfect pair of steelheading gloves, but I haven’t. I wear a mix of wool fingerless gloves and the Simms mittens.

Don’t - Sacrifice warmth for fashion. As women anglers of today, we are fortunate there are so many great companies making good-looking and functional gear. While we all want to look great on the water, remember safety and warmth first before fashion.

Don’t - Skimp on cold weather gear. Are these items pricey? Absolutely, but they are pricey for a reason. They work. They last. They keep you comfortable on the water longer.

Finally Be prepared to add and remove layers throughout your day. Standing in a cold river will require more insulation than walking to the river.

Layering systems might be a little foreign at first, but once you get the hang of it, knowing what to wear will become second nature.

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DUN EDITOR’S TIP

Jen says, “Because my hands are always cold, and I can’t fish with frozen fingers, I like to take the HotHands toe warmers and stick them to the top of my fold over mitts.

That way when I cover my fingers with the mitts, the toe warmers sit on top of my hands and help thaw out my fingers.”

Voormi - Confluence Hoodie MSRP $249.00 If we could only buy one piece, it would be this one. This is the ultimate trail-totavern mid-layer.

Constructed from the most versatile water shedding SURFACE HARDENED™ Thermal Wool, and featuring a relaxed full volume hood, the Confluence moves seamlessly from technical fleece to go-anywhere hoodie. A definite must-have.

Voormi.com

Kühl - Adriana 1/2 Zip MSRP $119.00 The KÜHL ADRIANA™ 1/2 ZIP features soft Merino/Polyester blend fabric and a unique two-tone jacquard pattern.

Patagonia - Tough Puff Hoody MSRP $299.00 Built for swinging flies all day in cold water, the warm Tough Puff Hoody has a stretchy and durable face fabric combined with highly breathable FullRange® stretch insulation for performance, comfort and freedom of motion.

Sewn with contrast color DYNAMIK™ stitching for more stretch and strength than traditional flatlock, we find the low bulk seams make layering even easier. kuhl.com

patagonia.com

Kühl - Firefly Hoody

Patagonia - River Salt Jacket

MSRP $220.00 The KÜHL WOMEN’S FIREFLY™ HOODY features lightweight PRIMALOFT GOLD™ insulation for enhanced breathability, flexibility, and protection from the elements. With superb warmth-to-weight ratio and continued insulation when wet, PRIMALOFT GOLD delivers body warmth in harsh conditions. This is one of our favorites for sure. kuhl.com

MSRP $349.00 Specifically designed to fit female anglers, this durable and high-performing jacket provides the comfort and weather protection you need to keep you on the water longer. This jacket is made with extra-tough H2No® Performance Standard 4-layer, 6.1-oz 100% polyester solid twill microfiber with a waterproof and breathable barrier. patagonia.com

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STILLWATER State of Mind 18

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photo Mark Gocke

Americans

are busier than ever in their daily lives with work, family, errands, and so many other endeavors that keep us on the move.

The value of a pastime that brings a quiet and still space into our minds is truly priceless. I have fished my entire life, and I began fly fishing at age 17. Fishing has always brought me inner peace and mental clarity like nothing else can. Whether you are an aspiring angler, a beginner, or have a lifetime of fishing experience - I know that you, too, find peace in the shelter of this sport.

by Lila Warren

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My childhood was spent in the woods and on the waters with my parents in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. My mom and dad brought me up to know these places as my friends, and to find solace in their space. Reading water, paddling a canoe, putting a worm on a hook, wearing sunscreen, identifying tree and flower species, and fishing farm ponds, local creeks, and rivers – these were the languages of my youth. This “toolbox” they gave me is one that I have carried with me everywhere I’ve lived, studied, or traveled, and one that I add to as I go.

I attended boarding school within the Washington, D.C. beltway. There, I was the 1% - but not in the way that the media presently defines the term. I was one of just four students in the entire school who had a fishing pole! On a Saturday afternoon I could walk down the hill to the school pond with my box of jig heads and rubber worms, cast a line out, and reel in a bass or bluegill. Being able to take time to be quiet, watch the water, and focus only on fishing brought me peace amidst the pressures of boarding school life in an urban environment.

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photo Tyler Hern

At the University of Virginia, I read the school newspaper, The Cavalier Daily, every day. During my first year, an advertisement caught my eye for “Free Fly Fishing Lessons” offered by the local fly shop in Charlottesville: The Albemarle Angler. I called the number in the ad that day to reserve my spot for a full-day guided lesson, and marked it down in my calendar. Weeks of eager anticipation went by, and the day finally arrived. I woke up early to a steady rain that is typical for springtime in the Southeastern US. I suited up in rubber boots and a waxed jacket to wait for the University bus line outside my dormitory. As I rode the bus out toward the fly shop, I remember being so excited and having no idea what to expect. As a side note, I always try to wipe the slate clean as far as expectations go when I’m trying a new sport or hobby, or traveling to a new place, so that nothing short of surprise and wonder define my experience. Whether it was because of the weather or because I am just plain blessed when it comes to fishing, only two of us showed up at the shop that day for our lesson. An older lady and I had the shop, the guide, and the waters we fished all to ourselves. We had a great day; we learned casting and knot tying basics, some go-to flies to use, and even had the pleasure of catching crappie and bluegill at a nearby private lake.

I have been hooked on fly fishing ever since. I began teaching casting workshops and taking friends out on the water. I made fish friends who connected me with new skill sets and new tools, such as my first fly tying kit. I went on to pursue a Master’s degree in Fisheries Biology, which opened a plethora of doors to fisheries professionals in all circles: science, angling, research, outreach, conservation, hospitality, media, and management. I even met my fiancé through our mutual love of angling. I have worked as a fisheries biologist in multiple states, a fishing guide for conventional and fly fishing, and a fishing operations manager for an outfitter. It has been a fishy life that I am grateful for and humbled by.

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From extremely rural to urban, I have lived in many states and different types of communities. Wherever I am, I identify a go-to water that I can easily visit after work in the evening or early on a weekend morning for a “fish fix.” Where I grew up in Virginia, in high school, and in graduate school in Tennessee, I had a “therapy pond” that I could walk to and fish, even for 30 minutes, to regain internal balance and achieve a stillness in my mind. In Vermont, Wyoming, and West Virginia, I had small streams or reaches of river that were easily accessible, close to home, and just plain breathtakingly beautiful places to cast a fly, and let it drift with the current. For me, these places provide beauty, quiet, and a natural rhythm for my mind to focus on and return it to its natural resting place when life becomes too busy. The sensory experience of wading in flowing water or sitting on a dock, listening to it run over rocks or lap against a shoreline, and admiring the muted reflections of everything around it provides such a welcome reprieve from a busy day.

Recently, I worked as a fishing guide and children’s outdoor program coordinator for a private sporting club. I was able to give the gift of basic fly fishing techniques to people ages 6 to 82, and to see their eyes light up and their smile stretch wide as they caught their first fish on the fly. I learned that age matters very little when it comes down to the wonder of having a fish on the end of your line. I promise you, the 82 year-old man, whose arm I held to help him with balance, was just as ecstatic when he landed his first brown trout on the fly, as was his 9 year-old grandson. Another lesson in the therapeutic powers of fishing that I learned during this time is no matter how rambunctious a group of 6 year-olds might be, as soon as you put a fishing rod in their hand, teach them to cast, and task them with concentrating on their line, they will be more quiet and focused than ever.

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If we take these lessons of bringing focus and wonder to others through fishing instruction, and translate it into the context of our own lives, it is easy to see how we can achieve inner peace and put aside worry, anxiety, or stress, if we give ourselves the opportunity. So give yourself the gift of time on the water with your fishing rod in hand. Find your therapy water – whether it is a local pond or a mountain stream – it is just around the corner, and you deserve it. Give yourself the gift of an inner peace as quiet as a glassy pond. For time is our most precious gift, and the least we can do is to carve out a piece of our day or week, and honor ourselves with the therapeutic experience of fishing.

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WHAT WAS

YOUR FIRST

ON THE

FISH FLY?

“Take care of the fish and the fishing will take care of itself.” Join TU: www.tu.org

D Dear Everett,

by Emerald LaFortune

This is the story about your first 18-inch Westslope Cutthroat trout. At this time, you were only six months conceived and your name wasn’t Everett - it was Butternut Lebron. But that’s a story for a different bedtime.

I wonder, butternut boy, if you remember that flash of green sliding up through the water column. I wonder if you remember the sunset red on its jaw as it sipped foam, hook, and feather off the surface.

Did you hear the splash through the ambient auditory ocean of her womb?

Did you hear your mom shouting, “C’mere you motherbleeping trout!”? Or is that cutthroat just a back-brain memory, saved into the twitch of your forearms, and the cones and rods in your eyes?

By all standards, your mom is a badass.

Don’t roll your eyes at me. Yes, I’m talking about the mom who drives you to basketball practice and helps you finish your homework. When I first met your mom, she scared me, which is a feeling you will likely become familiar with. She was a trip leading, dory rowing, class V whitewater running boss lady. I was a first year guide in a rubber boat who could barely catch the eddy for camp.

Your mom watched me cast a Parachute Adams around the Main Salmon eddy full of eight inch pikeminnow and said, arms crossed, “Your cast isn’t terrible.”

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I took it as a compliment. I couldn’t even impress her with my stories of fishing and drunken college revelry around Missoula, Montana, because she had lived there first. She knew I wasn’t as cool as I pretended.

We became friends, your Mom and I, because I have a golden retriever-like approach to befriending the wolf ladies around me. Four years later, she was pregnant with you. She showed up after a Middle Fork of the Salmon trip to say hello to your dad. He was going back on the river; I was heading across Idaho, the same direction as her.

“Let’s go fishing,” she said. It wasn’t really a question.

Growing a butternut like you was a lot of work for your mom. Yet that woman has a river inside her bones, Everett. While some moms would’ve spent the summer feet up, watching HGTV reruns, your mom strapped on her river sandals, packed the truck, and went on a two week solo road trip. We spent the night tucked into the backs of our rigs under cedar trees and that big Idaho sky. In the morning, she carried you and her fly rod down to the river. We pushed through the bear grass and blooming purple lupine to find the best, fishiest spot. I gave her the top of the run because you only fish six months

pregnant once or twice in your life. And, because even pregnant, I was still a little scared of her.

Your mom moved slower than normal that day because you were a heavy little squash. But once settled in the river, there was nothing more graceful than watching the two of you set the hook on those trout. To catch a fish is to experience three seconds of the purest joy there is. And I know that joy moved from the cutthroat, to her arm, to her heart, to her blood, straight into you.

E

Everett, when a cutthroat slides its body up towards your fly for the first time, I know you’ll feel that jolt. Maybe it’s time we all go fishing, the three of us. You’ve softened your badass mom in some ways, and you’ve also made her fierce. It’s hard to explain, but I bet you will see it in the way she gently removes the hook from the mouth of your first cutthroat.

With Love, Your Aunt Emerald D

GRANDEUR

5 Things to Know About

Winter Fishing

by Janell Fannin, Managing Editor

1

Sleep in. Nothing is going to happen early on the water, except you’ll be colder longer.

2

Before the snow f lies, it is time to hit those golf course ponds you couldn’t sneak into in the summer.

3

Do your research. Are you looking for that lunker bass? Is it your chance at steelhead, or is it trout that makes your heart race (not to be confused with hypothermia)? Know their habitat and behavior.

Be prepared, experiment, and put all of your reading to use inside and not outside in the subzero temperature.

4

You will never appreciate your sense of touch as much as you do when you are forced to wear gloves while fishing.

5

“Cold” is just a state of mind. It is mind over matter. We set the thermostat in our mind. It is only as cold as you let yourself believe it is - until it is below 20, then it is just too damn cold. photo Matt Jennings

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2 Waders We Love

We Hear You Two words to describe Dun. Very Impressive!

I enjoyed the articles and am impressed by the quality of the magazine, photography, and very little advertising, which is the # 1 reason I have discontinued so many of the fly fishing magazines I used to take. Over the years it’s been great to see so many women, of all ages, getting involved in fly fishing. Two articles really stood out for me on how fly fishing is more than catching fish. It’s reaching out into our environment, enjoying all Mother Nature has to offer, and some down time from everything going on in our everyday environment, those articles being Time Well Spent by Courtney Despos and A Little River of My Own by Brooke Rosenbauer. These two articles were right on target about what fly fishing has to offer and is best described by the comment Courtney made, “That is the experience to remember for a lifetime ...” Enjoyed it, Jen, and look forward to the next issue. Cheers - Larry H.

Now that the summer heat is gone, staying dry on the water becomes more important. Waders have come a long way in the last few years. Gone are the days of wearing uncomfortable neoprene waders that had a “one size fits all” feel. Waders of today have a fit, feel, and durability that is second to none.

Below are two waders we love to wear.

Orvis - Women’s Silver Sonic Convertible-Top Waders MSRP $279.00 Over the years, the most common feedback we’ve heard from female anglers is that there weren’t a lot of chest waders that were truly designed for the woman angler.

DUN: We love these waders because they are made in a wide range of sizes, comfortable, and have all the technicality you want.

Orvis.com

Hi Jen, thank you so much for the intro to fly fishing. You came into Erehwon and told me about an event/movie, so I went. I moved to Golden, Colorado two years ago and now fish with 5280 Angler guides around here. Love your magazine. Think of you guys often. All the best!

Redington - Sonic Pro Wader photo Marcelo Caiozzi

Thank you for being an inspiration!

XO - Molly H.

Larry and Molly, Your emails are the reason we have this magazine. Thank you so much for your support and encouragement. Jen

MSRP $299.99 The all-new WOMEN’S SONIC-PRO wader incorporates reliable, extensively field tested 4-layer waterproof-breathable fabric and SonicWeld seams to create an ultra-functional wader with superior durability for uncompromising performance.

DUN: We love these waders because the stretchy side panels are super comfy and easy to move in. Minimal pockets reduce bulk. These are a great choice as an everyday wader.

Redington.com

We want to hear from you. Tell us what you think at editor@DUNmagazine.com.

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Ortega

by Anna

P S R E P

E V I ECT

M

aybe it was the morning light dancing along the river’s surface or the water softly lapping at my knees. Maybe it was the gentle breeze carrying the sweet pine smell through the valley or the tug on the line that allured me. Something in that early morning made me transfixed.

Entranced. Mesmerized. Hypnotized. It was my first time fly fishing, and with every cast, I knew it would not be the last.

From that moment on, my fly boxes were bursting with stoneflies, copper johns, scuds, RS2s, and sex dungeons. My gear closet started to fill up with rods, reels, waders, leaders, tippet, and nets. The dining room table became a permanent fly tying station. Dust gradually accumulated on bike gloves, riding shoes, and skis and eventually, all gear from previous sports and hobbies became veiled under the fly fishing stockpile. Like a marmot diligently caching delicious grasses and flowers for the long winter, I was meticulously accumulating and storing all possible fly fishing elements for years to come. I became obsessed – fixated on the art of fly fishing.

Four years have sailed by since I first picked up the rod. Four years with moments of defeat and flashes of victory. My fable with fly fishing contains an overgrown path full of hurdles and obstacles. I’ve been snagged on failure and humiliated by disastrous knots; I’ve been sheepish with my disgraceful casts and humbled by nymphing; I’ve been setback by unfavorable weather conditions and defeated by the waters. Some days, with dissuasion and frustration, I put the rod down and go home with my tail between my legs. But like most relentless anglers, I’m cursed with the hypnotic spell. My refusal to deliver a fly is short-lived, and I always, unapologetically, return to the water with rod and reel in hand.

THE ROD, THE REEL, AND ME

Not only have I had to overcome the steep learning curve associated with knot knowledge and casting muscle memory, but I’ve also had to surmount factors that make fly fishing an intimidating sport.

Much of my childhood was spent spin fishing on lakes with my dad and uncles. I didn’t grow up fly fishing and knew nothing of the art until my college years. I didn’t know a dry fly from a nymph, leader from tippet, a six-weight from a four-weight.

My first time in a fly shop was unnerving. I recall it vividly. Five men clothed in long-sleeved flannels were gathered at the shop counter.

Their faces were hidden under disheveled beards and shadowed by mesh-backed trucker hats. They were ardently talking about the pros and cons of using monofilament vs. fluorocarbon leaders. The spitting of Copenhagen in old Coke bottles intermittently broke the conversation. I had no inkling of what they were debating. I couldn’t speak the language nor could I understand the jargon. I stood 10 feet away from them, shyly staring at the vast array of flies. They were unaware of my existence, and due to my timid nature, I didn’t want to make my appearance well known.

I stealthily backed away from the counter and slowly tip-toed my way out of the shop: vanished with no flies in hand. It would be weeks before I ventured into the store again.

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Trying to seek a relatable role model, I sought out women who were also infatuated with the tug – a task that proved daunting. Through social media and fly fishing magazines, I discovered that the most prominent female figures were professionals whose expertise at casting flies and knowledge of reading water was far beyond my greenhorn capacity.

I was intimidated, shy, and nervous when approaching other women in the field.

Because fly fishing is dominated by scraggly beards and virile, deep voices, I’ve frequently encountered men who assume that women don’t fly fish. They are unaccustomed to seeing women in waders or hands with pink nail polish tying flies.

I’ve encountered men who fail to acknowledge women chucking flies – completely ignoring their presence, and I’ve also encountered men who are blatantly shocked when women catch larger fish than them. Often, such men stare for a while and then feel obligated to remark on the femininity.

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photos Benjamin Kraushaar

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photo Benjamin Kraushaar

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This past summer, I, along with two of my best friends (Emily and Rica), traveled across western Wyoming. Our primary goal was collecting data to help us better understand the intricacies of mule deer migration for my graduate research. We spent countless days in the sun, camped every night, drove backcountry roads, walked miles across desolate terrain in search of mule deer sign, ended up in places no man has ever walked, and fished some remarkable remote water. We were the three musketeers on the western frontier.

After extensive days in the field, Emily often found solace in evening strolls through the sagebrush sea. During one of her walkabouts, she stumbled upon an abandoned fly rod on the side of the road. The rod was not of high quality, but was a rod nonetheless. Being the Good Samaritan she is, Emily needed to return the trout wand to its rightful owner. She approached a fly fishing guide near our camp who was noisily stowing gear in his drift boat.

“Excuse me,” Emily said as she tapped the man’s shoulder. “I found a fly rod on the road. Does it belong to you, or do you know somebody who might have lost a rod?”

The man briefly contemplated Emily’s question before responding.

“Hmmmm ... maybe. Let me check it out.”

As soon as the words rolled off the man’s tongue, Emily regretted her question. Similar to our previous encounters in fly shops, the situation became suddenly awkward. But Emily presented the man with the rod, knowing that he was not the conductor who lost his invaluable baton. Seeing the quality of the rod, the guide remarked, “Nope. That’s not mine. But you should hold on to it so you can learn how to fly fish.”

FLIES, FLOWS, AND FINS

Emily stared at him blankly. Her stomach was churning; her chest was on fire. This man had no clue that he was talking to a woman who can’t recall the first time she picked up a fly rod, because it happened so many years ago, and the time between then and now is saturated with fish stories. A woman who never stops talking about fly fishing, nor stops daydreaming of water. A woman who always travels with her rod, reel, and flies, even in the middle of the desert – a kick-ass angler, who is obsessed, infatuated, zealous, and fanatically crazed with trout. The poor man had no idea what water he waded into.

Despite her internal rage, Emily kept a cool face, and in a calm voice she replied, “I guess I can just add it to my collection.” She turned her back and walked away with a subtle sneer stretched across her face.

After Emily’s encounter, we sat around the campfire enveloped in the burning fragrance of Aspen and the bitter aroma of IPAs. We hooted and hollered when Emily re-enacted her encounter with fervor. Little did Rica and I know that we would experience a similar situation only days later when we would spend the weekend fishing some nearby lakes…

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The bell on the shop door chimed, deliberately pronouncing our entrance. All conversations stopped.

Every man in the fly shop turned his head and stared at the two women who just stepped onto their province.

It was an uncomfortable and peculiar silence. The scene was reminiscent to a herd of mule deer inadvertently stumbling upon a pack of wolves in the deep wilderness: neither animal knowing whether they should fight or flee, conjure or escape.

The abrupt ringing of the phone finally broke the silence. The men resumed chatting about flies, flows, and fins. We swiftly walked over to the bin of flies that drew us to the shop – size 20 black chrominoids.

An older man approached us.

“You ladies need any help finding something today?”

Rica softly smiled and replied, “No. We found what we need.”

He was surprised at our response.

“Alright. Well … I like it when women know what they want.” With the smirk on his face, he turned away to resume his task of stocking flies.

Rica and I looked at each other with wide open eyes and raised eyebrows. Did that just happen?

Our initial offense quickly eased into casual laughter. After all, we were women in a fly shop unwilling to take assistance, and the man was utterly dazed. At that realization, we smiled at each other, purchased the flies, and started to walk out. Before we left, I turned to smile at the men in the shop and waved goodbye. ¡Adios amigos! The bell on the door chimed, exuberantly pronouncing our exit.

With flies in hand, we held our heads up high and proceeded to the water.

photo Benjamin Kraushaar

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Since the late second century when man first started using artificial flies to lure trout, women have been the minority angler. As written in the history of fishing, the feminine presence has not occurred often, and men have become accustomed to such an absence. The gender imbalance has been ingrained in societal customs for centuries. So, can we blame individual men for their subtle remarks or awkward and naive ways in which they approach women in waders? Sometimes, yes. But not necessarily always. For it is the status quo – the prevailing condition of women immersed in fly fishing. This parallels other sports and pastimes.

If a man were to walk into a yarn store alone, every woman in the shop would undoubtedly turn her head and stare at the person who just walked into their holy kingdom intricately constructed of alpaca and acrylic spun thread. He would be amid an unusual stillness created by the status quo persisting in the craft of threaded work.

But the status quo of the female angler is shifting. If media is a good illustration of the entire population, then more women are becoming immersed in the fly fishing realm. I’ve observed women in the pursuit of fish, tying flies on their own accord, or even building rods by themselves. I’ve observed women with diverse backgrounds in fly fishing – from beginners to experts. I’ve seen women of different angling interests – from those seeking permits in the Caribbean Sea to those enticing steelhead in the pacific Northwest; from those hunting cutthroats in high alpine tundra to those tricking tarpon in Central America.

Women of all ages, colors, cultures, and walks of life are picking up the rod and reel. The status quo will change with this new movement and novel era, and with time, men will become more habituated to femininity in the fly shops, to female guides on the water, and to groups of women fly fishing from their own boats with their own gear. An increase in women is just one crucial ingredient in the recipe of altering the status quo. Men also need to inspire the participation of women in fly fishing. They need to no longer ignore the timid girl at the counter.

THE STATUS QUO

I would not be where I am today without some key men who have encouraged me to continue fishing – including my boyfriend, local guides, and friends. This collective group of men have taught me the fundamentals of enticing trout – how to flawlessly present a fly, how to euro nymph, and how to double-haul. And although it was more difficult to find them, several moving women have contributed greatly to my fly fishing journey. I have now become more comfortable in waders and more confident in my casting abilities. With the support of men and the encouragement from other women, the gender imbalance will cease to exist and the lady’s angle will persevere.

D

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S T E V I E

by Jen Ripple and Mēgan Berns photos by Daniel Kim

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Stevie Kim-Rubell

started conventional fishing at two years old, and began fly fishing at age six. Her dad, Daniel Kim, is a fly angler, who took her fishing. It wasn’t long before Stevie started pursuing the sport herself.

Stevie has now grown to love fly so much that in her words, “any guide knows that if he even suggests conventional, it’s not even a question.”

But at such a young age, when others haven’t even heard of the words fly fishing, why this sport? “For me, I enjoy the challenge. Fly fishing is extreme fishing. It is as technical as fishing can get. There is still room for error, which is very important, but definitely a challenge.”

What did you begin fishing for and how did tarpon, and then subsequently permit, become your target? “I started fishing for brookies and brown trout. My dad tried fishing for tarpon, but after trying it, he wasn’t interested in pursuing it again. I encouraged him to keep going. I wanted to try, but fishing for tarpon is obviously expensive and very challenging. My dad told me that before we could take a trip to a tropical destination, I had to learn how to cast in wind and be able to handle all the things that make saltwater fishing so much harder. I started fishing for stripers out of New York City in Jamaica Bay and the Rockaways. This gave me the chance to work on my double haul and make sure I could handle the chop, wind, and weather.”

Stevie was nine at the time and would practice casting inside her home when the weather outside didn’t cooperate. On her first day of striper fishing, when the weather was tough, and nobody was catching, everyone else headed in. But, she wanted to stay out and continue practicing her cast in the wind.

What is on your bucket list? “My biggest bucket list item was to catch a permit before I was 12.

So, I have done that.” What do you put on your bucket list when you’ve already accomplished permit by 12? She has yet to successfully land a tournament qualifying tarpon of four feet. That’s a goal. Another goal is the grand slam.

The Little

Girl Who Could

Her personal best tarpon is 2-1/2 feet. “That’s the biggest tarpon I’ve brought to hand. During the Ladies Tarpon Tournament in Islamorada, I fought a tarpon that was 80 pounds for 31 minutes without it jumping. It had another one swimming next to it, encouraging it to keep it going. That was hard because I basically can’t even do a push up.” She was 10 when she caught her first tarpon, bonefish, jack, and barracuda on a trip to Belize.

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You realize how remarkable what you’ve already accomplished is, right? “As soon as I caught my permit, I realized how far I’d come. It was around 12 pounds and for the area where we were fishing in Mexico, that was a nice-sized permit.”

Stevie has learned lessons that some of us have yet to learn. She does not, for instance, choose her own flies when she fishes with a guide. In her own words, “I usually let the guides choose because they know what’s working. If it were up to me, I would pick all pink and purple flies because those are my favorite colors. I’m not yet capable of knowing which flies work best.”

Rubik’s cube?

What made her want to pursue permit, the sport fish that has frustrated more anglers than possibly any other fish in the world? “I will always love tarpon fishing, but catching a permit may be a once in a lifetime opportunity. You can fish for tarpon in a lot of places, but I decided to fish for permit on this exact trip because it was a permit destination. While there, I never just targeted one type of fish. I’ve always been ok with catching fish of any species. Whether it’s a valued permit, or a small barracuda, I just like having a bend in my rod.”

Stevie, to our knowledge, is the youngest person to catch permit on a fly. Certainly, there are many anglers, young and old, who look up to her now, and will look to her in the future.

Does Stevie have a mentor in the fly fishing world? “Heidi Nute. She is the world record holder for 16-pound class tippet for tarpon. She is not very tall or super strong, but she knows how to fight a fish better than a lot of anglers.

Heidi has amazing technique. She is such a great inspiration to women and girls in the sport.

She is a really good person to look up to.”

I know this is still some time off, but you’re so focused and driven. Do you have any idea what you want to be when you grow up? “I have a couple ideas. One is to become a surgeon. I like the idea of helping a lot of people, and I think that would be a cool career. I also love to bake, and of course there’s fly fishing. Who knows?”

Stevie with her mentor, Heidi Nute Rubik’s cubes? “One day, I came home from school and there was a Rubik’s cube on my desk. I immediately started playing with it and spent hours trying to figure it out. My dad told me it was a hard thing to do, so I shouldn’t get frustrated if I couldn’t solve it, but that just motivated me more. I spent about six months online trying to figure it out. I tried over and over until I finally solved the whole thing. Now I can solve it in about a minute.”

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Go fo

r it !

GRANDEUR

Do you have a favorite rod and reel combination? “Oh yes. My Scott Meridian 2pc 10 wt with a Nautilus Silver King reel.” According to Daniel, Stevie’s dad, “It was really important to get her set up correctly. When Lefty [Kreh] met Stevie, he was concerned about her chasing adult tarpon. The salt game can be so frustrating and physically challenging, but I couldn’t say no to Stevie wanting to do it (and she had shown she could swing a 9 weight all day for stripers in wind). Lefty made sure she had the most efficient cast to get it out there without hurting herself. And, I made sure to think through her gear choices: choosing setups with low swing weight and good feel. She worked her way up to her tarpon setup.”

Fly fishing in a tournament is completely different than going out for a day of fishing, which is stressful enough. What made you decide to fish a tournament? “I hadn’t thought I was ready for that level of intensity, but Heidi, the tournament chairwoman, believed in me and invited me to compete. I really got into the idea and started prepping for it. I even bought a remote control toy truck to practice casting at a moving object in the park. The hardest part for me was the lack of sleep you get during the tournament. There were events at night, and I usually go to bed at 8 pm. I had to be up really early for the tournament. That was definitely the hardest part. It was amazing to me how many women were cheering me on every day.

Everyone was so supportive, and that was a big part of the tournament. It’s amazing to have a group of women who support you.” (We agree!)

If you could give one piece of advice to a first time angler what would it be? “Go for it; especially as a woman or a girl, you have a lot of people who are on your side, and who will support you. Go for it.”

I hear you and Lefty have a story? “Yes. I was fishing in Belize and coincidentally my dad was taking a video while I was fishing. By accident, he switched the video to slow motion and recorded a video of me jumping a 55-pound resident tarpon. That video went viral and has 300,000 views. Lefty saw the video and wanted to get in touch with me. He sent me a signed book, and invited us to his home in Maryland. We drove down one weekend and he helped me with my cast. My cast is not as good as his, but the improvement in my cast comes from him. He’s not only an amazing angler and teacher, he’s an amazing person.”

Stevie meets Lefty Kreh

“So, I have

done that.”

“It didn’t take me five minutes of speaking with Stevie to be taken aback by her drive, determination, and sheer intelligence. It’s hard to believe that Stevie is only 11 years old. Talking with her inspired me. No doubt she will have this effect on all who are fortunate enough to meet her. I have no doubt that the world, and fly fishing, will be a better place with Stevie in it.” Jen D

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online gear

Why It’s Worth It

It’s a big chunk of change, but here’s why we think it’s worth every penny.

“I was schocked when I saw this truck pull a huge yacht effortlessly. I admit, I need help when it comes to launching my boats. The features in this truck are going to make that a lot easier and give me peace of mind.” Jen

Nissan - TITAN Starting at $35,230

Nissan.com

Tow Ability

TITAN Box

Maximum available towing capacity of 9,740 pounds

Lockable storage boxes that are watertight and drainable, and can be used as a cooler or for storage

Trailer Light Check This allows one person to check all the lights on the truck and trailer with the push of a button

Zero Gravity Seats Inspired by Nissan’s work with NASA, these seats are amazing on long drives

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Backup Camera

Around View Monitor

Points straight down at the hitch for ease when connecting your trailer

Gives you a 360 degree bird’s eye view of the truck, so you always know how close you are to things

GRANDEUR

online gear Humminbird - HELIX 7 CHIRP SI GPS G2N MSRP $799.99

Humminbird.com As fly anglers, we overlook the need for electronics on our boats. Easily noticing changes in water temperature, bottom composition, structure, and fish locations can be the difference between going home with a huge grin on your face or just going home.

GPS Chartplotting Dualbeam Sonar Giving you greater detail and a wider coverage area

A built-in map covering the contiguous US coastline, inland lakes, and rivers with a built in plotter to aid navigation

I-Pilot Automated boat control with your Minn Kota trolling motor, which lets you follow contour lines, bottom hardness levels, even vegetation lines, or stay in one place

Side Imaging Sonar 180 degree side-to-side perspective

Hell’s Bay Boatworks - The Guide 18’ Starting at $53,000

HellsBayBoatworks.com

“Standing on the bow of my first Hell’s Bay in the Florida Keys was a bit unnerving. The deck was so smooth and flat that at first I was worried I would fall off the front, before my guide had a chance to push me off with his push pole. I never fell off and, by some miracle, I didn’t get pushed off either. I was completely comfortable standing and keeping an eye out for approaching tarpon. Getting to and from the flats was smooth and easy.” Jen

Running

Fishing

Designed to get up on plane in less than 10” of hard bottom water and run on plane in only 5” of water

Comfortably fits four anglers and storage for up to six 9’ rods in carpeted rod racks

Draft Floats in 4.5” of water fully loaded with engine and fuel

Stay Dry Reverse chines, as well as built in spray rails, help keep the boat dry

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get to know

8 Questions With A Seasoned Guide

Paula SHEARER DUN: What is your most memorable guiding experience?

PS: I have had a lot of memorable guiding experiences, but the one that comes to mind was from a few years ago. I met an older lady named Brigette.

She had gotten into fly fishing and was very keen on becoming a better angler, and on most occasions, she fished alone. The Bow River had been her nemesis for a couple of years, and as dedicated and determined as she was, she had yet to land a fish on this river. Knowing this, I was constantly in touch with her giving her information and techniques. One day during the winter I was on the river, saw her fishing, and decided to join her. I knew this would be a great opportunity to try to get her into a fish. I led her to a spot I knew held fish and changed up her rig. A few casts in, she hooked into a fish and was beyond excited, until the fish got under a ledge of ice and broke off.

Brigette was devastated, but I was still confident we would make it happen.

A few casts later, she hooked into another one and I jumped off the ice ledge into the water to net the fish before it could go under the ice. Finally, all of her hard work and determination had paid off. She had a Bow River fish in hand and tears of joy streamed down her face. Over the past years, she has booked Bow River floats with me and has caught plenty of fish, but to this day that is one of the most rewarding experiences I have ever had on the water.

DUN: Where do you guide?

PS: I guide in Alberta, Canada, specializing on the Bow River and Alberta mountain streams, targeting rainbows, browns, cutthroat, and bull trout.

DUN: Why did you start guiding?

PS: I can recall one specific moment when I decided that I was going to pursue guiding like I had always wanted to. A friend of mine who was recovering from post-concussion syndrome, something that I had also struggled with, came to me asking if I would teach her how to fly fish and take her fishing. By this point, I had taken and taught many of my friends how to fly fish, but on this day it was different. Seeing how excited she was catching fish after fish made me realize that I wanted to do this all the time.

DUN: Tell us an embarrassing thing that’s happened to you on the water.

PS: While guiding two summers ago, a client of mine hooked into an amazing brown trout, and we began the fight chasing it down river. I wanted to pull in so I could get below and net the fish on shore, so I dropped my anchor knowing it would bounce down a little bit before settling to stop. As we began to slow down, we also started to float down river. Thinking that we had just hit a deep pocket and that the anchor wasn’t catching, I stepped on the lever again. At this point, I didn’t feel the anchor rope let out, so I turned to my client in the back of the boat and asked if there was still anchor, only to hear him reply “I don’t think we have an anchor anymore.” Knowing that the front guy was still fighting this big brown, I decided we were going to have to net it from the boat. Fortunately, I was able to catch up to the fish and get it in the net. I moved the boat into the shallows and jumped out to dock. The day was saved by constructing a rock anchor, but I had my guiding friends make fun of me all day thinking I had forgotten my anchor at home.

DUN: Who has been your biggest inspiration?

PS: I would say tJoan Wulff is an inspiration to me, and someone who I have looked up to as a woman angler. She was one of the first females to pave the way for women in fly fishing. I would also have to say I am inspired by my friends. We always learn from each other and feed off one another’s positivity.

DUN: Tell us one piece of advice for an aspiring guide.

PS: The best advice I can give any aspiring guide is to have confidence in yourself. If you have prepared yourself to the best of your ability, and are willing to work hard, be a teacher, host, and absolutely love putting people on fish, then you should go after it!

DUN: If you weren’t a guide, what would you be?

PS: It’s hard to think of what I would be doing if I wasn’t guiding! I have no doubt that I would still be fishing a ton. I think I would be back in school to become a physiotherapist or a nurse.

DUN: Tell us one thing no one would expect from you.

PS: I was a full-time athlete in the sport of Skeleton, training 6 days a week, for 6 hours a day, in the hopes of one day making it to the Olympics.

photo Steve Longfield

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get to know DUN caught up with Canadian guide, Paula Shearer, to talk Olympics, anchor ropes, and jumping off ice ledges.

photo Dana Lattery

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Twenty Eight

YEARS

by Susan Rockrise photos R. Valentine Atkinson 58

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Communication is my business and my passion - it is also the key to a meaningful life.

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am sitting perfectly happy and consciously grateful in the black darkness of early dawn. My trusted, and well worn, Patagonia puff ball jacket is zipped up over red flannel pajamas as I rest my wool-socked feet on the hearth of a wood burning river rock fireplace. I feel myself slowly awakened by the taste of that essential first sip of steaming coffee as the sun starts making its way up in the sky, reliably lighting up the majesty of the natural beauty surrounding a hundred year-old farmhouse in the middle of the Fall River Valley.

Quiet moments like this one, waking up early, deeply excited about the promise of a fine day ahead, bring to mind so many treasured memories that all began in much the same way.

I can feel the truth of it all, and I am reminded that spending time bringing my senses to life is, quite simply, life’s greatest gift. It is, as my old comrade and philosopher, Jessica Mitford, would say,

My heart beats quickly. I take a long breath and really look out the window into the silence and the mystery. Tears well up as I reach for my coffee. I decide now is the time to glue it all together into a tiny, gigantic story for you.

"Lifeitselfmanship."

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28 years have rushed by like the rapids of rivers of the world: 14 countries, 4 continents, 12 species of fish, and a world of new experiences, adventures, and relationships.

It all began when I was a 35 year-old high heel and lipstick wearing account executive for a pharmaceutical advertising agency in San Francisco, with absolutely zero awareness of fly fishing. One day, in a mad dash to pick up artwork for my client, I asked my friend and colleague, Annette Thompson, agency studio manager, to give it to me.

She said, “Forget it, I’m busy.” I stared at her in disbelief as she typed away at her IBM Selectric typewriter. She said no! What in the world could be more important than my client’s artwork? She replied tersely, “I’m writing my monthly Golden West Women’s Fly Fishing Newsletter, Susan.

You should learn about fly fishing and become a member of the club. In fact, why don’t you come join us for a slide show about the sport given by my friend and fly fisherman, noted photographer Valentine Atkinson? I’ve always wanted you to meet him.”

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The early days of Val and I.

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Off to catch bonefish, equipped up for 100 degree heat at Boca Paila, Yucatan, Mexico

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Glacier National Park, Montana

Later that week I actually drove by the Clement Street Bar and Grill where the event was being held, and sure enough, as fate would have it, there was a parking space right out front. I was meant to stop, park, and go in.

The rest is history.

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Women, 16 of them between the ages of 20 and 93, were transfixed as Valentine showed his slide show and narrated a story about his adventures of fly fishing around the world.

As corny as it sounds, I got hooked too - not only by the exceptional photos, but by the handsome, blonde photographer behind the slide projector. Little did I know how this would change my life, and cast a through line that has kept me grounded to this very day.

Timing is nearly everything. As it turned out, Val had just started working for Frontiers International Travel as their staff photographer, traveling to new countries every month to shoot the amazing destinations they represented. This gave him, and often me, a golden opportunity to explore the world of travel through fly fishing and professional photography.

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Headed for tigerfish in the Okavango Delta, Africa, happily surrounded by supplies and my new pals from the lodge.

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Netting a big, beautiful Sockeye Salmon with the help of my guide.

Misty, quiet morning, excited to disembark and explore Alaska’s wilds.

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How could I refuse him?

New Zealand

I remember that we spent a full weekend as instructor and student, starting at 7 am until 10 pm each day. Mel’s generosity and wisdom have served me well, and as he hoped, I didn’t embarrass either Val or myself as we worked as a fly fishing photography team.

In our downtime, we fished locally in Northern California, on Val's personal favorite home waters - Fall River and Hat Creek. Only 300 miles north of San Francisco in the least populated, northeast corner of California, I was first introduced to my now treasured Fall River.

It is one of the largest spring creeks in America - 54 degrees of constant cool water, just right for large, healthy, colorful, and very selective Rainbow Trout.

Upper Ganges, India

It didn’t hurt that I received a phone call around that time from Mel Krieger, who was respected worldwide as a fly casting instructor. He stated emphatically, "I'm not going to let you embarrass my good friend, Val Atkinson, on the waters of the world. You're going to meet me at my house at 7 am on Saturday and I'll teach you the basics of fly fishing, philosophy, fly tying, gear, fly casting, and more philosophy."

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As time progressed, I learned a lot more about fly fishing, and by extension, about R. Valentine Atkinson. I asked him one basic question: “What are the three things you’d most like to achieve before you die?” He was 45, knew what he wanted, and replied very easily. “One, I want to own a home on the water, preferably on Fall River; two, I want to travel the world and earn the respect of my fly fishing friends; and, three, I’d like to publish a coffee table book of my images.”

It didn’t occur to me at the time that he did not mention marriage, or family, nor did he ask me what I might like to achieve. That said, I heard him, and I thought to myself, “piece of cake!”

Today, we are partners in stewarding and caring for a 100 year-old farmhouse and guest house, with pristine old apple trees and access to Fall River. Val has earned the love and respect of the fly fishing community worldwide, and we have published five books with another on the way.

And, I have had a gifted life that most fly anglers can only dream of.

Tulum, Mexico

Early on, Val was smart enough to realize that I loved art and fashion, so he outfitted me with my very first green rubber hip waders, an old vest, a floppy hat, and sturdy boots. Surprisingly, I felt comfortable and snappy in my new gear. My boots, waders, and vest gave me the confidence to wade rivers and experience a new kind of freedom being part of nature.

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Waiting for that trusty float plane to take us home to Bristol Bay Lodge Alaska for an evening of stories, after a thrilling day catching salmon.

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That first day all geared up, wading the upper Gallatin River in Montana alone, casting my line ... feeling like a dancer.

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Wading in clear cool water, warmed by the sun and breathing deeply, about to connect with my first fish, I cast a long (Mel Krieger inspired) line on the Gallatin River in Montana on a beautiful autumn day.

Alone, 200 yards downriver from anyone, I truly felt connected to nature, and casting made me feel like I was dancing, and it was a beautiful feeling.

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It was at that moment that I realized that fly fishing was very similar to marketing. I needed to understand my audience, be sensitive to its needs, and be an exquisite communicator.

By casting accurately, choosing the right fly, and having near perfect timing, I might just be successful in hooking a fish. As with all things in life, practice makes perfect, and a little good luck doesn’t hurt either.

As the years have passed and I have worked as a professional communicator and creative director with great companies like Esprit, NeXT Computer, Intel Corporation, Lagunitas Beer, and others, fly fishing has been my grounding and tie to slowing down and staying connected with mother nature - which has made all the difference in my life.

From that point forward, I honed my skills by listening and learning.

Enjoying a fly fishing lifestyle is magical. It can balance our fast-paced, virtually driven lives with a viscerality that is essential to vitality and connecting with life’s meaning.

I slowed down, packed a lot of gear, and actually hooked, netted, and released a lot of exquisite fish.

Strolling through a little meadow, sitting by the river bank on a fall morning, golden leaves fluttering to the ground, birds making music, being enveloped by the spirit of peace, these things enliven me in every respect.

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Walking and talking with my guides on Luck Creek, Prince of Wales Island, southeast Alaska.

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I have been deeply moved by the great gift these jewel-like fish have given me as I purportedly pursue them, but actually find myself again, and again, and again.

May you all live healthy and strong lives for as long as possible, so you too may visit the waters of the world and find yourselves.

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get to know

Jen Ripple Sits Down With

The Forged Fly by Matt HART Rarely do I come across something in the fly fishing industry that blows me away. The work of Matt Hart did just that. support underprivileged kids, our waters, and our sport. Take a kid fishing programs and river clean ups are my main focus.

Jen: I commissioned you to create an award on our behalf that looks like our logo. You did that perfectly. Was it difficult?

Creating the project DUN mayfly was easy in a way because I could envision the whole thing before it started. I believe you have to see it before you can build it. Seeing it on paper is one thing, but being able to see the process, and being able to walk through it in your mind is the key. It was difficult because of unexpected issues during the process. Just like hunting down a smart rising trout, the process unfolded differently than I thought it would. The one thing about metal is that it can be manipulated in so many different ways. I did the legs over on the DUN mayfly three times before I got them right.

Jen: What flies did you create first?

I started out with local trout flies and classic dries, then turned to saltwater flies. I am currently on target to hit some classic salmon patterns. I’m in love with the learning that takes place during these projects.

JEN: When I first saw your work at last year’s Somerset show, I was blown away. How did the idea of The Forged Fly come about?

I’ve always felt an uncontrollable curse, where I imagine most things I see “in metal.” For over a decade, I’ve been looking for something that hasn’t been done in the world of metal art.

When I got back into fly fishing, I was drawn to the possibility of creating flies of steel. I saw flies as tiny sculptures. One day, I desperately wanted to fish in an area, and didn’t have money for lodging. I created my first few two-dimensional, stainless steel flies in barter for a stay at a lodge to fish for steelhead. These displayed pieces got ridiculously positive feedback, and it wasn’t long before I started to think about them in a threedimensional form. The thought of imitating each material in the fly tying world out of different metals and techniques became an endlessly intriguing thought process. I’m not saying that I made the first iron flies by any means, but I am honing in on details, techniques, and proportions

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that I have not seen before. This part makes me feel good inside. I am literally tying flies out of metal. I use enlarged, rigid materials, and manipulate them to act as soft as natural feathers and fur.

Jen: You’re a truly unique person. What is your workshop like?

My workshop is a single car garage converted into a metal shop with a studio apartment upstairs, and a hole in the floor to jump down into the workshop when an idea sparks.

Jen: of course it is!

Jen: What is your mission?

The mission for The Forged Fly is to keep tying, learn as much as possible, and commemorate the legends and the influential flies tied in this sport. I want to honor the people who are responsible for these creations and their story, turn it into steel, and document it. At the same time, I want to raise money for organizations that

Jen: I’m sure you’re using recycled materials.

What tools of the trade do you use and where does the metal come from?

The most used tools of my trade are the hammer, torch, forge, and grinder. Most of my sculptures come from metals I’ve collected and recycled over the past decade. I love bringing old metals to life.

You look like you’re 20. Do you mind if I ask you how old you are, and how long you’ve been doing metal work?

I’m 33 years old and have been doing metal work for about 14 years. My father was a master sheet metal fabricator, and I joined the union at around 20 years old. Now, Hartist Metals is my main business, and has been alive for over a decade. That business creates metal sculptures, railings, and anything custom. The Forged Fly has a lot of momentum at the moment and could easily lead into flies on railings, signs, and home decor applications.

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JEN: How did you get involved in fly fishing?

JEN: Does Matt Hart have a favorite fly?

My father took me fishing when I was little. I caught my first trout around 6 or 7 years of age, and was ice fishing by around 8. My dad got me my first vise when I was 13, and we tied a few basic flies. I got back into tying in my midtwenties during a soul-searching mission.

I do. The Hornberg streamer is my favorite fly.

Jen: Did this gift you have come out of the blue or are you from an artistic family?

Both of my parents are artistic in different ways: my father in sheet metal fabrication and my mother at arts and crafts, and custom doll making. My mom was a huge inspiration.

Jen: How does someone contact you to buy one of your pieces or commission your artwork?

If you would like to see my work, you can check out The Forged Fly online or email me at matt.hartist@gmail.com.

I love to do custom pieces. Tell me your story and we will create it.

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Kayak Demo Pond • Extensive Free and Paid Classes Women’s Programs • Wine & Micro-Brewery Beer Tastings Boy Scouts can earn their Fly Fishing Merit Badges

Firsts

by Wanda Taylor

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I

didn’t know what to expect flying from Winnipeg to the North Seal River area of Northern Manitoba to Gangler’s North Seal River Lodge. It was 6 am and barely light when departing on Calm Air Charters’ 10 passenger plane. We were greeted by our German-born pilot and native Madagascar co-pilot, both speaking better English than my Southern slang.

They went over the safety rules and offered us snacks and water before takeoff. The flight was two hours, so we all settled in for a morning’s nap with dreams of fishing in our heads.

By 9 am, we were landing on the lodge’s sand-packed runway. ATVs met us with a warm welcome. We settled into our cabins and met for breakfast at the lodge: amazing blueberry French toast, bacon, and, of course, Canadian maple syrup. The staff came by and introduced themselves and outlined our first day fishing. We met our native Cree and Dene guides, who were waiting in boats to take us fishing on the endless waters out the lodge’s back door.

All tackle is welcome at Gangler’s, but my favorite is fishing with a fly. I was fortunate to have Kelly, a Cree guide, who has experience with fly anglers, and who is learning fly himself. Being a fly instructor, I welcomed the opportunity of instructing him, while he guided me to my first pike. We came to an early partnership and the mission was on for both of us. We took a boat ride around islands, granite rocks, little stick trees, eagles, otters, and did not see one person or boat for miles.

photo Paul Lecat

photo Paul Lecat

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photo Gangler’s Seal River Lodge

photo Gangler’s Seal River Lodge

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We came to a gliding stop and he suggested I rig up a 9 weight sinking line. I showed him my flies and he picked one. I tied on wire bite tippet for those notorious toothy critters. I made my first cast to get control of my line, and the fly accidentally hit the water. BAM! I missed my first pike. After that, it was GAME ON! We caught and released 25 to 30 fish before heading back to the lodge for dinner. I had caught my first pike on a fly. The beast and I were one.

Back at the lodge, we had hors d’oeuvres and cocktails. I headed to my cabin for a shower before dinner and fish stories. The five star dinner started at 7 pm. After that, we could relax to great music in the lounge area, take an Esker trail ride through the erratic boulder fields, kayak for an evening paddle, or ride a mountain bike.

Most nights, when the sky was clear around the campfire, you could take in a meteor shower.

In the early hours of the morning, the Northern Lights were something to behold. Yet another first for me.

At 6 am the next morning, I was awakened by the engines of float planes. They were staging themselves at the dock, readying to fly us to parts unknown, to fish water that hasn’t been fished in the recent past. Staff delivered coffee to my cabin at 6:30 am and I couldn’t help but call them angels of the morning. I do love my java. After breakfast, it was time to board the float plane. Again, another first. I absolutely loved being able to visually see the clear water and islands below in hopes of maybe spotting a moose or sasquatch.

photo Gangler’s Seal River Lodge

This is where it got sticky.

Every fishing location has its own lunch tradition, and this was no exception. My guide told me it was my responsibility to catch a pike or walleye for our shore lunch, or we did not eat. As you can imagine, the pressure was on and no fish showed. I had a granola bar we could split, but that didn’t sound very tasty by 1 pm.

It was like we had bananas on the boat.

The pike would look at my fly, and turn or bite the tail tasting to see if it was real. Finally, I caught a medium-sized pike and we boated it for lunch, but it was a bit oversized for two people. I then caught a junior and Kelly revived the medium one for a release. We headed to the shore for lunch.

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photo Gangler’s Seal River Lodge

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Wanda holds a beautiful lake trout.

photo Gangler’s Seal River Lodge

What happened next was another first. For a brief moment, I forgot I was with a native Cree.

He used his boots to move dirt and make a pit.

Next, he gathered rocks to make a circle around the pit and added twigs and moss to start a fire.

He filleted the pike, and added spices while the oil was bubbling in the skillet. He sautéed diced potatoes, onions, and mushrooms.

Lunch was served. Fresh pike, cool shade, music from the loons, and I was happily enjoying the experience of a lifetime.

An hour passed and we headed for the historic North Seal River in search of walleye. I had never seen a walleye, much less caught one. I love streamer fishing and with the moving water of the mighty Seal, I was in my happy place, as an angler. Using a down and across presentation,

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I caught my first walleye on a fly, which was a dream come true. It was as beautiful as I had been told.

Over the next few days, I had other firsts; my first grayling, lake trout, and arctic char. I even got to swim with the whales. Overall, this was the trip of a lifetime.

 Five star food  Quality lodging  Wi-Fi  Eco-tourism  Northern lights  Big pike and walleye I can’t wait to go back.

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online safety

Maintaining

A Healthy Casting Arm

by Anita Coulton photos by Joe Allison

Anita is an Orvis Endorsed Fly Fishing Guide with Cross Current Guide Service and Licensed PTA with Drayer Physical Therapy

I think when most people think about fly casting, their mind drifts quickly to the fly rod itself. The evolution of the fly fishing rod over the last 20 years is completely amazing to me. The amount of science and technology that goes into designing and manufacturing our fish catching tools has made some significant progress from yesteryear. From powerful, high tech graphite, to finesse and accuracy weighing just a few ounces, fly fishing rods are now truly a marvel of scientific precision. They’re tailored for all species that swim, and sit beautifully there in the palm of your hand.

While rods are a crucial part, let’s look past the rod for a moment to an often overlooked and vital angling component – your casting arm.

Let’s face it, without the ability to use your arm, that piece of engineering brilliance in your hand, sadly, turns into just a really long paperweight.

We tend to take our casting arm for granted. I know I do. Let’s spend some time focusing on how to maintain, and even improve, your casting arm, so we can focus our time more on the fishing and catching, where it belongs.

When looking at the casting stroke, and how it relates to your arm, there are a few important areas worth noting. If we want to get all clinical and stuff, areas in your arm that can cause a casting snafu are the fingers, wrist, elbow, and shoulder. For the sake of keeping this simple, let’s look at one of the most common areas of dysfunction; the one and only glenohumeral joint, better known as the shoulder.

Before we go any further, please note that the following info is not intended to treat or diagnose any issue or dysfunction. If you are having a specific shoulder issue, see an MD for an accurate diagnosis. A qualified physical therapist can also help with proper exercises to correct specific issues or movement dysfunctions.

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When we examine the shoulder from a clinical perspective, we find a highly complex joint that provides significant mobility. This multi-faceted mobility provides the ability to cast, mend, and fight fish repetitively without limitation.

Like cogs on a wheel, this precise movement happens without even a thought. However, all that mobility comes with a risk. A mobile joint is often at a higher risk for a multitude of issues: the proverbial “monkey wrench” if you will. Those that have ever incurred a shoulder issue know precisely what I’m referring to.

As a healthcare clinician, I’ve treated a multitude of shoulder issues. Rather than delve into the various dysfunctions that can occur, I want to focus instead on some strengthening exercises that you can utilize, starting today, to hopefully PREVENT an issue from developing. A proactive approach can be vital in helping you enjoy a full season on the water.

Maintaining and strengthening the shoulder begins with a basic understanding of the joint itself. Having some basic knowledge of what’s inside, and how it works, will help you to improve your strength and function.

As we take a simple look at the shoulder, we have a few different layers of muscles and structures that cover the joint itself. The superficial, larger shoulder muscles, called the deltoids, along with a few others, act together to move the arm in many different directions. Lying underneath these larger muscles is a crucial group of stabilizers, better known as the rotator cuff. With so much mobility associated with the shoulder, this tiny team of four stabilizer muscles acts to stabilize the entire joint, and demands our attention when it comes to strengthening.

In addition to the superficial muscles, and the rotator cuff, there is one more vital component of a healthy shoulder. These are the scapular stabilizers, and are the muscles mainly behind your shoulder. As you raise your arm up past shoulder height, your scapula (shoulder blade) rotates as your arm extends overhead. The shoulder and scapular structures work in unison to maintain fluid movement without pain. As we look at how to maintain the health of this complex joint, a simple understanding of how it works can help you to effectively strengthen, and prevent, unnecessary injuries. Ok, everyone with me so far?

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Strengthening the shoulder involves minimal investment and can be done at home with simple, inexpensive equipment. In the photos, I’ve chosen to use a simple resistance band. These bands are color-coded to signify varying levels of resistance. I recommend starting with an easy to moderate resistance for two sets of 10 repetitions, and increasing as you feel you can. Proper technique is vital if you want to strengthen effectively.

SUPERFICIAL STRENGTHENING These exercises are aimed at the larger muscles that move your shoulder.

Row: Start with your arms straight, pull back slowly, keeping your elbows close to your body. Squeeze your shoulder blades together. Return to starting point slowly.

Starting Position

Ending Position

Shoulder Flexion: Start with arm straight. Keeping your arm straight, slowly raise your arm up to shoulder height. Lower slowly.

Starting Position

Ending Position

Shoulder Extension: Start with your arm straight. Keeping your arm straight, slowly extend your arm behind you. Return to starting point slowly.

Starting Position

Ending Position

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safety Down and Across Pull: Standing with your arm straight, thumb up, and resistance coming from above, slowly pull down and across while rotating thumb inward. When returning to start position, thumb rotates outward on way back up.

Starting Position Up and Across Pull: Standing with your arm straight, thumb facing you with resistance coming from below, slowly pull up and across while rotating your thumb outward. When returning to start position, thumb rotates inward on way back down.

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Ending Position

Ending Position GRANDEUR

safety STABILIZER STRENGTHENING These are the exercises aimed at strengthening the smaller, stabilizing muscles.

Internal Rotation: Standing with resistance band out to your side, while keeping elbow bent at 90 degrees, slowly pull band into your abdominals.

Return to start position.

Starting Position

External Rotation with Elbow Up: Standing with your elbow level, your shoulder bent at 90 degrees, and resistance coming from the front, slowly rotate back while maintaining elbow bend. Return to start position.

Ending Position

External Rotation: Standing with resistance band near your abdominals, and your elbow bent at 90 degrees at your side, slowly rotate out while maintaining elbow bend.

Starting Position

Starting Position

Ending Position

Internal Rotation with Elbow Up: Standing with your elbow level, shoulder bent at 90 degrees, and resistance coming from above/behind, slowly pull band forward while maintaining elbow bend. Return slowly to start position.

Ending Position Starting Position

Ending Position

Start slowly

with just a few exercises, and increase as you are able. With an effective strengthening program, maintaining a healthy casting arm and shoulder can be relatively quick and painless. Taking a proactive approach can pay big dividends, and help avoid painful future issues. Keep that casting arm strong and healthy, and it will allow you lots of time to get out and put a nice bend in your favorite rod. Hope to see you on the water!

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The Stages of

Grief

by Hannah Kramer photos Brandon Miller Photography

14,

When I was

my father taught me about fishing holes. We waded into the shallows of the Platte, the sun at our necks, muddy water lapping our ankles. He would point to the other side of the bank where the otherwise quick, singing water stilled and lay quiet. “That is where the fish rest” he would always say. He taught me to seek the calm that nature provides, despite its haunting chaos.

19,

When I was

my father taught me that despite seeking out the fishing holes, despite the singing water around you, and the fish resting in the stillness, sometimes it’s more difficult to find the calm. At 19, my father died and I could no longer seek the calm. I could no longer find the fishing holes.

I no longer knew if I wanted to.

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When I was

20,

I found myself sitting on the dusty garage floor, sifting through boxes of my father’s things.

They smelled of old pine needles hidden in the creases of tents and sleeping bags. There were boxes of camping gear, loved and worn until the seams split open. I found myself drawn to a box full of his fly fishing gear. In the box lay a tattered vest with a puzzle of pockets, still full from his last trip to the water’s edge. Tucked away were a pair of nail clippers, the place where his thumb rested worn perfectly as if reserving space for my own hand. My father’s legacy of fly fishing wrapped me in its arms, inviting me to explore.

I was told that there are five stages of grief when experiencing a loss. I walked each of these stages with my father’s rod. I journeyed the trails of hurt and sorrow with hooks stuck in my thumbs, as I untangled the inconceivable knots that grief grants the beholder.

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Denial.

“Denial is a conscious or unconscious refusal to accept facts, information, reality, etc., relating to the situation concerned.” Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

As a woman in fly fishing, I immediately faced feelings of self-doubt because of the nature of this sport. When I first began to wade into the muddy waters alone, I found myself doubting my abilities, sure I would not be successful without my father pointing to the fishing holes beside me.

Shortly after my father died, I didn’t know if I wanted to continue fly fishing. Feelings of confusion and loneliness bubbled up from the frothing rapids despite my feeble attempts to distract myself. Eventually, the grief would creep in and I had little choice than to face it head on.

I realized how important it was for me to carry my father’s legacy and I wanted to do this in the place where I felt closest to him, the water.

My first time on the river was full of knotted line, broken tippet, and longing for my father. I spent the majority of the time in tears. I still often find myself, waders sinking into the soft riverbed of a mountain stream, overcome with emotion, denying that this could be how my life has changed. Denying that I will ever live up to the kind of angler my father was.

Denying that he is gone.

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Anger.

“Anger can manifest in different ways. People dealing with emotional upset can be angry with themselves, and/or with others, especially those close to them.” Elisabeth Kubler-Ross My father was always interested in teaching me to fish. When I was young, I was too interested in catching bugs, or jumping into puddles with rain boots on to bother with fishing. Now, I find myself full of questions and rising anger that I did not ask for more answers. I have questions about hatches and flows, and reading the water.

I’m angry that I refused to take off my rain boots and listen.

How do I tell what flies are hatching on the Blue in the morning? How much weight do I put on my leader? Why didn’t I listen to the depth of knowledge my father only wanted to share with me? If I had known this art form would become such an important piece in my life, maybe I would have taken the time to listen.

Why is it that we don’t recognize true value until it has floated away?

Maybe I would find knots easier to untangle.

Maybe this is one thing grief asks us to learn. I still find myself stuck in this stage. I imagine my heart, like the fish resting in an eddy, will linger here for the foreseeable future.

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Bargaining.

“Traditionally the bargaining stage for people facing death can involve attempting to bargain with whatever God the person believes in.”

Elisabeth Kubler-Ross I found myself questioning everything I considered to be true about a higher power.

I could not rationalize how a god that was supposed to be full of grace and love, could not hear me crying out, promising to give anything if only my father would live.

Maybe I was crying too hard.

Maybe I was sniffling too loudly.

Maybe they just didn’t care.

Now, as I stand in a river, I can sometimes see my father standing on the other side, directing my rod where the fish play. I smell the crisp pine air, and can hear him humming Van Morrison’s “Bright Side of the Road.” I know as I leave footprints, where his once were, he is with me.

We patiently toss our line into the water, over and over, watching it float downstream together.

My father lives on through me. I am my father’s daughter. It’s funny how maybe my negotiating was heard over the sobs and the sniffling, maybe just not in the way I was expecting.

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Depression.

“This stage is also referred to as preparatory grieving. In a way it’s the dress rehearsal or the practice run for the ‘aftermath’.” Elisabeth KublerRoss Depression can take on many forms. All too often I found myself avoiding the things I knew would bring me happiness. How could I feel nothing but pain after experiencing such a trauma? After finding the boxes of flies, full of creatures that I knew meant so much to my father, I forced myself to immerse myself in all things fishing. It became an obsession, which might have been the only reaction I could handle at that time. I reached out to friends of my father’s, begging them to return anything they might have that memorialized him. I was desperately seeking some sort of connection with him, and this was my way of finding it.

Out on the water for the first time on my own, while I untangled what felt like the hundreth knot, I realized I would have to undo each loop piece-by-piece. While getting the sharp tip of the hook stuck in my fingers, I realized this was my way of working through the grief, by untying it piece-by-piece, not being deterred by the sharp edges.

Being able to hold the tools that my father held, and trip over my own feet in the size 11 wading boots that he wore, I was able to rediscover my father’s voice. As time passes, I find myself forgetting what his crooked smile looked like, and how the scruff of his beard felt when he would kiss me good night. I have forgotten the way his blue eyes lit up when my mother walked into the room. But, when I am wading knee high in the icy, clear water, with the sun beating down on my neck, I can hear him say “Aim your line a bit more to the left, see where that water stills.” I can hear his laugh, sensitive and genuine. I can hear him tell me to work on my back cast and watch out for the trees. When my fly inevitably gets stuck anyway, he tells me “That’s okay honey, I can just tie on a new one.” I can hear my mom telling us to come in for lunch, and him gently telling her “just five more casts.” On the water, I can remember the purposeful sound of my father.

On the water, I can hear him, and that is what saved me.

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Acceptance “The acceptance stage is an indication that there is some emotional detachment and objectivity.”

Elisabeth Kubler-Ross The way my father died was full of strength, courage, and dignity. He made the choice for his body to no longer remain in this physical world, and I admire his bravery above all else.

My father battled cancer not once, but twice. He journeyed the difficult path with pure, unfiltered grace. After a year of blue latex gloves, skin rubbed raw from alcohol swabs, and the forest green beanie to warm his hairless head, it became clear that cancer would win this fight.

The last thing he could do to regain control was to make the decision to stop treatment. My father accepted his death long before I did.

Many of us never reach this stage of grief.

If acceptance means there is “emotional detachment and objectivity” then I can confidently say I have not. Acceptance to me, however, has nothing to do with objectivity.

Acceptance is the first time I packed my 25 year-old car and ventured to the water alone.

Up until then, I had always fished with other people. They were a buffer. If something went wrong, someone else could help me fix it. I never trusted in my own abilities, in the talent that was flowing in my blood, to go alone. As I pulled on my waders, still damp from my last trip, and snapped on my waist pack, I nearly turned around and went home. I remember thinking back to the last time my dad and I spent together, to our final goodbye, and I found comfort. As my father lay in his hospice bed, with no tubes or needles, no beeping monitors or nagging nurses, he asked me “Will I see you again?” I thought carefully about the question. It didn’t feel right to lie, so instead I asked him “Do you want to?” He responded with a yes. I did not fulfill that wish in the physical sense, because he passed soon after I left.

But, I do see him, every time I step in the water.

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DUE North

by Liz Ogilvie

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It

didn’t take more than five minutes to catch and release my first fish of the day. The river was barely 60 feet across, yet

there seemed to be a hundred hungry mouths stacked in the riffles on either side of me. Every cast, regardless of how delicate or clean a drift, produced at least a nose of interest, if not a fullon attack. It was when one aggressive female, taking me completely by surprise, cleared the surface of the water and arced down upon my fly that I realized fishing for brook trout anywhere else was forever ruined for me.

How can you not be fascinated by the markings of a brook trout? They’re the most beautiful of all fish, in my opinion, even though when you look up close they seem more scraggly than pretty.

Perhaps my adoration is more fascination.

I’m lucky enough to have them residing in their native range within an hour’s drive of my home: tiny little guys that would impress you with their spirit. They’ll snatch at a size 8 elk hair caddis, way too large to actually eat, and slap it almost as many times as you slap the monster imposter on the water. And, if one does succeed in getting hooked, well, I’ll be honest enough to admit I’ve had to scramble in the brush behind me to quickly scoop it back home.

Brookies of considerable size exist in their natural habitat of the northern wilderness. From Maine, up through eastern Canada, where water temperatures remain cold throughout the year, the red and blue spotted beauties can grow quite large: up to 10 pounds. Catching one that requires two hands to hold has been a dream of mine that I’d waited too long to pursue.

This past spring, when I was researching this year’s fishing trip options, I was turned onto the idea of going north – way north – to fulfill not one, but two bucket list items: big brook trout caught in rarely fished rivers.

I’ve been through several phases of fishing goals over the last two decades. Catch a ton of fish.

Catch a new species of fish. Catch a monster fish (okay, so this one I apparently still harbor).

The last, and most recent to develop, has been to fish virgin waters: waters that have not been fished before.

float-camping trips for steelhead in Kamchatka.

For Americans, the elusive waters off Cuba have been a recent boon. But my wallet hasn’t been fat enough for these trips, so I realistically slide them down the ladder of dreams.

I learned about Miminiska Lodge from a friend, who had recently discovered it himself. I was told it would be cold and woodsy, which my mind interpreted as campfires and hot toddies.

I was informed that it was fly-in only, which equaled the tranquility of unplugging for a few days. To seal the deal, I would fish waters that have forever been free from hordes of anglers.

I Picked out my dates immediately.

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In the second week of June, I packed my waders and boots, wool socks and fleece shirts, rain gear, a pair of gloves (just in case), and went north. I made my way to Thunder Bay (the industrious northwestern Ontario shipping town nearly four hours from Duluth), where the lodge’s parent outfitter, Wilderness North, has their headquarters and operations. They had prearranged overnight accommodations for me in a downtown hotel for an easy and early morning pick-up.

Because all passengers and camp supplies (including food, fuel and any equipment) must be flown into camp, Wilderness North arranges all chartered flights and their own planes through Thunder Bay. I was worried that my luggage would exceed the maximum weight requirements. Forty pounds per person is not a lot when you’re hauling fishing gear with you. My wading boots seem to be a quarter of that alone.

What would I ditch, if forced? Surely not the bottles of red wine!

Joining me on the journey up to Miminiska was a group of 14 from Wisconsin: grandparents, brothers, wives, cousins, and some family friends, who were excited about the amazing walleye and northern pike fishing the area is well known for. Our plane was too small to transport all of us at once, so we split into two groups.

Even though there were storm clouds all around us, the hour long flight was the smoothest I’ve ever had. The touchdown on Miminiska’s grass runway was like landing on a pillow.

I planned to fish for walleye and pike in the waters close to camp the first day, which ended up being a wise decision because there was plenty of rain. I’d only caught one northern in the past and had never seen a walleye that wasn’t breaded and fried on my dinner plate, but I loved their aggressive, predatory nature.

Casting long, beefy streamers full of flash and with weighted heads was sloppy, but it didn’t matter. Pike would challenge the fly all the way up to the boat before inhaling it. One of my best lessons was how to hold each species around their razor-sharp gill plates, keeping all five fingers intact.

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After a hearty breakfast in the morning of eggs, salty sausage, toast, and fruit, I was fueled and filled with nervous energy. When was the morning’s transportation to the tributary headwaters going to arrive? I kept stealing glances into the sky over the lake from the communal dining room window.

Doing a brook trout float out of Miminiska requires a different kind of shuttle service – float plane style. Wilderness North sends a plane to pick you up at the lodge. You load it with all your gear for the day, strap a canoe onto one of the plane’s pontoons, and fly to the top of one of the rivers that wind their way back to camp. A 10 minute jaunt as the crow flies takes 8 to 12 hours to float and fish back. You best be prepared and have everything you need, because there is truly nothing and nobody else around.

I heard the drone of the plane before I spotted it. It circled the lake making its gradual descent, landing with a small splash, then taxiing to the dock. The pilot opened the back doors and started unloading camp provisions for the staff: everything from tanks of gasoline, to pallets of Snapple, and a wooden door (one of the cabins on the property was being renovated and needed a new door). Once the cargo was removed, the fishing gear and fishermen were loaded in. I put the noise-protecting headphones on and settled in for a bird’s eye view of the northern wilderness.

It wasn’t more than a half hour to the catch and release of my first brookie of the day.

With each fish landed, I was in awe of how pure they were. There wasn’t a fish smaller than 14 inches and most were in the two-pound range.

Measuring a brookie by weight instead of length is amazing. Their spots were slightly duller than the tiny brook trout of my home mountain range, the Shenandoah, but their orange underbellies were blazing, almost as if they were in autumn spawn.

photo Mark Melnyk

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But after a day of catching dozens of these fish, losing track of how many by the time my stomach was growling for dinner, I knew my arm would be tired and I wanted to be fresh for the next day. Brook trout.

photo Mark Melnyk

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photo Mark Melnyk

My guide, Mark, expertly navigated our canoe through some tough terrain as we made our way down river, reinforcing just how wild and unpopulated this area is. The only people who float these waters are lodge guests and the native people: the Ojibwe, the second largest First Nation indigenous peoples in Canada, who have inhabited this beautiful land for centuries. Wilderness North has a longstanding relationship with the tribe to use the resource in a responsible and respectful way.

Mark explained that most guests at camp come here to target walleye and pike in the Albany River system, which the lodge is situated on.

Not many people know that the tributary rivers feeding into the larger Albany hold brook trout.

Or, more to the point, they don’t care. I thought back to the previous day getting to know the family who was also staying at camp and had to nod my head. When I told them I was there to fish for brookies, and on a fly, they paused, eyes squinting. The thought running through their minds seemed to be, “Who is this crazy woman who came all the way up here to fish for trout?

This is walleye country!”

At the end of the day, seeing the pictures of the magnificent fish I caught in the smaller streams, they seemed to get it. And, when the lodge manager said he thought I was the first woman to ever catch a brook trout on fly in those waters, the realization of how I had just spent my day was soulfully satisfying.

The details: 0 5 or 6 weight rods are sufficient. Bring a sinking line on a separate reel or spool if you want to target pike or walleye.

0 Large terrestrials that float high are best.

Rubber-legged hoppers and Chernobyl ants in cream and yellow worked well.

0 Miminiska offers full service with three meals a day, plus a cocktail hour before dinner, in the main lodge. The individual cabins along the lake sleep small or large groups – perfect for a ladies’ trip. Ask for one of the newly renovated cabins, which are decorated in a fun, 1950s retro-cabinchic style and have modern bathrooms.

0 The staff goes above and beyond to take care of guests, including stopping by your cabin at first light to deliver coffee and stoke the wood-burning stove.

0 Guides are available for all types of fishing. It’s required for brook trout, but not for fishing in the Albany River for walleye or pike. They have boats available for all guests, but if you don’t feel comfortable driving one they’ll take care of you.

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photo Mark Melnyk

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get to know Take this quiz to find out how well you know

DUN Magazine 5

1

Where is DUN printed?

A

B

2

Where can you purchase DUN?

China

3

Tarpon

B

Smallmouth Bass

C

Permit

D

Brown Trout

Barnes and Noble

B

DunMagazine.com

C

Books-a-Million

D

Your local fly shop

Germany

C

Tennessee

D

New York

When Editor-in-Chief Jen Ripple takes the day off to go fishing, what is her favorite species to target?

A

A

6

What does the staff do after a magazine is released?

A

Celebrate with friends

C

Go fishing

B

Plan the next one

D

Go to dinner

7

How many print editions will there be in 2018?

A

1

C

4

B

2

D

6

Which fly shop was the first to carry DUN Print?

A

1) C - DUN is printed in Middle Tennessee.

Driftless Angler

2) B - Jen loves all of those fish, but her go-to fish is the smallmouth bass.

B

Florida Keys Outfitters

C

Anglers All

D

4

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3) D - While all of these shops are huge supporters of women anglers, and DUN, the neck-in-neck race to be the first goes to Fly South in Nashville.

4) D - While we were hesitant to make a print magazine because we are so conservationminded, DUN Print is eco-friendly using recycled paper and vegetable-based inks. Plus, there is something about holding a copy in your hands.

Fly South

Why did DUN go ‘old school’ with a print magazine?

A

Print is less expensive than digital.

C

It sounded like a good idea.

B

They were tired of being asked where DUN was on sale.

D

There is just something about the smell, weight, and feel of paper.

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5) A,B,C,D - DUN is carried at stores throughout the US. If your local bookstore or fly shop doesn’t carry it, ask them to.

6) D - After the release of a magazine, we head to a restaurant that we haven’t been to before.

7) C - Because of your support, DUN print will be quarterly starting in spring of 2018

GRANDEUR

refreshment

Time For A Thanks for reading, now go get a

REFRESHMENT

for yourself.

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Ingredients 2 cups Almond Milk 1/2 cup Semi-Sweet Chocolate Chips 2 Graham Crackers Crushed 2 tbsp Local Honey 1/4 cup Chocolate Syrup 1/4 cup Chocolate Pudding Mix 4 oz Brandy 1 oz Grand Marnier Garnish Marshmallows

Directions Heat milk in medium sauce pan.

Meanwhile, melt chocolate chips in microwave. Dip the rim of your mugs in the melted chocolate and crushed graham crackers, and set aside.

Add remaining melted chocolate to milk, along with honey and chocolate syrup, and whisk to combine.

Whisk in pudding mix ensuring there are no lumps. Bring to a low simmer and remove from heat.

Add brandy and Grand Marnier to the chocolate mixture and immediately pour into the prepared mugs. Top with marshmallows. *Whole milk can be substituted for the Almond milk and Trailside Kitchen Dark Drinking Chocolate for the chocolate syrup. *This drink is fantastic with or without alcohol.

All I want for Chrismahanukwanzakah is world peace and adult hot chocolate.

Jen Ripple

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