Fall camping in the Unitas

It’s finally desert season, right? Spring and fall are pretty much ideal in southern Utah: not too hot, not too cold. Maybe a puffy jacket at night, but probably you won’t need socks. Plus, the mountains are getting snow and rain, there is mud and the aspens have already turned. So, last weekend, we went to the mountains. The weather was grumpy with chilly temps, wind and clouds. But the sun felt glorious when it was around and there was

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Cows — Updated!

The West isn’t perfect, but life is full of trade-offs and I figure, at least when it comes to public land usage, that I win in the end. I don’t love that people go out on BLM land and shoot cans, signs, bottles, clay pigeons, etc., and then leave all the bullet, rifle and shotgun casings behind, along with the shredded detritus of what they shot. ATVs and other motorized noise-makers are not my favorite thing, especially if I am

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Southern Utah Trout Fishing

We have a history of exploring all of Southern Utah, but this time we were out looking for trout, which took us to even more new places. We had a few pointers from the internet and the fellas at Western Rivers, and we had our trusty, rather inaccurate but “field checked for accuracy” atlas. It’s been awhile since we visited Boulder, Utah, so we drove over Boulder Mountain (fall colors were off the hook!) and made our first stop at the Escalante

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Trout Fishing On the Olympic Peninsula

If you like catching trout and you like solitude on the river, the Olympic Peninsula in July is the place for you. This is the land of steelhead fishing, lifted pick-up trucks, weed shops and “Women for Trump.” Not the kind of place where people are satisfied with a 12″ cutthroat. We found a bunch of rivers filled with trout and no one else fishing. It took some bushwhacking, rock-hopping and creative casting to get the fish, but I found myself giggling, and feeling like I

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The Story of Captain Black

I can’t honestly say that I have had a personal relationship with any trout that I have caught. Each one seems a small miracle to me, both in that I was able to catch it, and in its iridescent beauty. For the moment that I hold it, extract my fly and then release it back to river I am completely absorbed with it and grateful for the connection, but they remain somewhat anonymous even if I give them nicknames for

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