A Photographers Journey: Into the Wild with Rob Hammer

Rob Hammer didn’t set out to become a fly fisherman - or one of the sport’s most compelling visual storytellers. What began as a casual camping trip with a camera in hand evolved into a full-blown obsession with remote rivers, wild trout, and the meditative pull of moving water. In this candid interview for In the Loop Magazine, Hammer reflects on how fly fishing reshaped his creative path, why solitude in the American West fuels his craft, and what keeps him chasing new waters with equal passion for the rod and the lens.

BY THE EDITIORIAL STAFF // Photos by Rob Hammer

How did you get into fly fishing and why?

Sort of by accident, I guess. A while back my friend Jordan Valente and I were going camping outside of Steamboat, Colorado. One morning on that trip he said he was going to fly fish for a few hours. I had never done it before and didn’t even know he was into it at that point, but I figured what the hell, it could be something new and fun to photograph. I was hooked from that point on, just from making pictures. Something about the meditative nature of the sport and the environments it takes you to was instantly addictive. From there it was a while until I actually allowed myself to put down the camera occasionally in exchange for a rod, but once I did, the addiction went through the roof.

What is it about fly fishing that fascinates and motivates you?

John Geirach and Thomas McGuane are masters at describing this topic, but I’m happy to give you a much more feeble explanation. For starters, it’s a never-ending pursuit. You can do it your entire life and still have days, or weeks, where the river kicks your ass. Just when you think you’ve got it licked, it all goes to shit. Then there are the rivers themselves. I’m lucky to live in the American West, a part of the planet that fascinates me more than any other and happens to be filled with the most beautiful rivers on earth. It’s never taken for granted that these fishing meccas are places that people travel to from all over the world. In Colorado alone, you’d never be able to fish all the rivers and streams in a lifetime. Each one, special in its own way, and completely different from one day to the next.

The way I like to fish, whenever possible, is far, far away from people. Which usually means some pretty aggressive hikes into a canyon or a section of backcountry that most people aren’t willing to put the effort into reaching. There are some stretches of river here in Colorado with massive fish that you can cast to while still looking at the cooler full of beer on your tailgate, but that’s battle fishing - elbow to elbow up and down the banks.

In my opinion, there’s nothing better than being completely secluded in nature with good friends, or even by myself. No cell phone signal or any signs of civilization.

As far as motivation, there’s always a want to be a better fly fisherman, but it’s mostly about being on the river. Catching big fish is great, but I care a hell of a lot more about exploring new wild places than I do about ever showing a “grip n’ grin” photo. It’s all about the experiences and the people you’re able to have them with.

You live in Denver, what is your favourite species to target there and why?

Browns. They are such a beautiful but aggressive fish. Seeing how varied their markings and colours are from river to river and season to season is always a thrill. Trout in general are my favourite species. People always talk about fishing for the Grand Slam on salt, and I get it, but to me there is nothing cooler than trout.

How did you get into photography?

It was probably influenced by family. My grandfather made a living as a photographer for a time, and my old man was a serious hobbyist. At some point I was gifted a camera as a kid and loved it. That love turned into a hobby and stuck. All through college and the long slew of shitty jobs afterward, the only thing I loved doing was photography. So, I decided to push ahead and have been chasing it ever since. Even though it’s how I make a living, I still consider it a hobby as well. I’m obsessed with it.

Whenever there are long stretches of being consumed with the business side of things, I find myself miserable from not making pictures, even if nobody will ever see them. The act of photographing is so fun and cathartic. And much like fly fishing, it’s a lifelong pursuit. I’ve heard legendary masters of photography say that if they can make 1 great photograph in an entire year, then that’s a win.

How does being a photographer influence how you fly fish?

It goes both ways. They influence each other. Fly fishing teaches you so much, especially the need to slow down and think. Nothing good happens with a fly rod when you’re rushing or flustered. That lesson alone can have positive effects on every aspect of your life. And just being on the water in remote places gives you so much time to think with a clear head. It taught me what I do and don’t want from my career as a photographer. In the beginning I was doing a lot of big campaigns with famous athletes because I thought that was the way you built a career and made lots of money. A few years into it though, I realized the money wasn’t worth dealing with the politics and the lack of creativity involved with most shoots. It soon became obvious that my photography needed to directly align with my passions as a person.

So, now I’ll gladly take smaller paychecks if I can shoot something I love like fly fishing. And that shows in the work for any photographer.

The viewer knows when the photographer doesn’t give a shit and they’re just in it for the payday.

Is there anything particular about fly fishing that engages you as a photographer?

I’ve struggled with this question for a long time because it seems like there are endless facets to fly fishing that are engaging. For one, fly fishing is the opposite of what I thought it was as a kid.

My idea of fly fishing was a way to kill time for guys that hated their wives. And there probably is a lot of that, but the layers of fly fishing are endless, and you get in return what you’re willing to put in. Just approaching a river with a rod in hand gets my blood up so much that I need to actively calm myself down. So maybe there is the desire to visually share the experience of fly fishing with other people?

Shooting fly fishing always seems like a really fun puzzle that’s also extremely difficult to put together.

It’s easy to make mediocre fly fishing images, but to come away with shots that really work takes time, patience, thought, and a lot of moving around.

Being on the river with good people, though, is probably the biggest reward. They are the most relaxing and revitalizing places on earth, in my opinion, especially when you put the time into being in remote sections. It’s humbling to pause in the middle of a backcountry river to take in the 360-degree view and realize there isn’t another human for miles and miles. Those experiences can’t be found anywhere else.

If I hit the lottery tomorrow, I’d still wake up every morning with the itch to photograph fly fishing and to explore new rivers.

What has been the most rewarding trip or experience you’ve had as a fly fishing photographer?

Couldn’t say. Again, it’s about the place but also the people you’re lucky to be there with.

There have been unforgettable trips in Alaska catching massive trout and silver salmon 20 yards from grizzly bears that were just as rewarding as a solo fishing trips in the Eastern Sierra catching 10inch rainbows on a 3wt because the environment was so magical.

Last summer my buddy and I were party fishing a small stream in Telluride before a friend’s wedding. It wasn’t more than 20 feet wide, and we were hooking up at the same time from each side, just having a blast. Never made a single image that day.

Then there is winter. Being on a river with a fresh blanket of snow is hard to beat, even though you know the chances of anyone catching a fish are slim to none. It’s impossible to nail one down. As you get older you realize that it gets harder and harder to have everyone on every trip. So those rare instances when all your buddies come together on a special stretch of water is something to cherish.

Any tips to fellow fly fishermen who would like to elevate their photography skills?

Elevating your fly fishing photography is no different than elevating any other type of photography. You’ve got to go out there and screw up, over and over and over again. Just keep putting in the reps like you do with a rod. Some days you’ll leave the river with a hog of a fish, and others you’ll leave with fuckall. Tomorrow is a new day. Studying helps though. Everyone learns differently, but there’s nothing better than learning from the masters. So go pick up some photography books and study the images. Figure out what works and what doesn’t and why. After a shoot, study your own images, and figure out why the failures are failures. Then take that knowledge out onto the river. Slow down.

Are there any drawbacks to being a photographer when on a fly fishing trip?

Absolutely. There are days when I feel like a legitimate drug addict and the only fix is to catch a fish. I’m so happy being out there making images, but also secretly hiding behind the camera hoping that one of the guys will say “hey, you wanna cast a few?”

It never fails that the instant I put down the camera and pick up a rod, a beautiful shot lines up. So, sometimes it has to be an internal conversation beforehand that there will be no fishing that day, only shooting.

What are your respective future goals as a fly fisherman and as a photographer?

There’s an insatiable desire to keep exploring new rivers with good friends, passionate fly fisherman that later become friends, and brands that share my same values. Beyond that, though, it’s important to me to connect with organizations that are focused on river health and conservation. It’s easy to take these wild places for granted without ever thinking about the harm humans are doing to them. A few weeks back I did a clean-up with “Protect Our Rivers” on a section of the South Platte that goes through Denver, and it was mind-blowing to see how much trash the crew pulled out in an hour and a half. Really makes you think!

I also believe that everyone would benefit from spending time on a river with a fly rod in their hand. Especially those people that live their whole lives in a city. It would completely change the way they think about life and the planet. So, I’d consider it a great win if my images would motivate others to get out there.

If you’d like to know more about Rob’s work – and buy prints, here’s where to go:

www.robhammerphotography.com/fly-fishing-photographer www.robhammerphotography.com/fly-fishing-prints