Words and Photos by Rhon Bell of Backwoods Plaid

A smile spread quickly across her face on Christmas morning as she ripped the tape from the top of the cardboard box and pulled out a green-checkered Alaskan Guide Shirt. I had seen that big smile two days earlier, on our sixth year anniversary, when without her expectation, I proposed on bended knee in front of our parents at a surprise dinner that was weeks in secretive planning. I’d traveled 6 hours North two days earlier just to ask her father’s permission. Both her father and Gabrielle, my new fiancé, said “yes.”

As a post-holiday get-a-way, I planned a 5 day lakefront cabin retreat in the woods of Maine for us to escape all the stresses from a Christmas week booked solid with family events and obligations. This would be our time to enjoy life’s simplicities: test out new snowshoes, fly down a surprisingly steep hill on flying saucers, and merely watch the snow fall. Oh, and to warm ourselves by the fireplace while enjoying the fire in her new diamond.

I admit that I bought her the Filson Alaskan Guide Shirt for selfish reason. I own the men’s version and I thought it would be humorous that we could match. Of course it will keep her warm on fall hikes and while ice fishing in the harsh of winter, but it would be particularly important today. I knew heavy snow was in the forecast and the lake was beginning it’s slow winter freeze-up so I invited a photographer friend out to snap a few photos of us for Save-the-Date’s (or wedding invitations, if you will). I couldn’t have planned a more perfect afternoon for a walk along the edges of the frozen lake. The combined beauty of nature and my future bride, the sparkle in her eye and the laughter as I hoisted her onto my back for photos, all culminated to remind me of why I love spending time in the outdoors, no matter what the reason.

All of this puts a great story behind an amazing shirt. What’s the story behind your Filson?

Words by Judith O’Keefe.

Last May, I wrote about a trip I took to our nation’s capitol as part of a contingency of sportsmen and women gathered together by Trout Unlimited/Save Bristol Bay.  We descended on Washington D.C. to ask our elected officials to support the Environmental Protection Agency in it’s effort to utilize the Clean Water Act to save the Bristol Bay watershed in Alaska from a proposed massive open-pit mine.

Trout Unlimited has just issued a statement expressing its disappointment in learning that, as of Feb. 5, the EPA has decided to conduct a second, potentially lengthy, review of its Bristol Bay Watershed Assessment.

Tim Bristol, Alaska Program Director for Trout Unlimited, responds, “While we appreciate this Administration’s efforts to survey the risks and impacts of large-scale mining on the world-class natural resources and fisheries of Bristol Bay with sound science, the EPA has already gone above and beyond the letter of the law in drafting its Assessment and conducting an independent and transparent review of it.  This added delay is unacceptable to Bristol Bay’s communities and stakeholders, and leaves a dark cloud of uncertainty hanging over Bristol Bay’s 14,000 jobs and its commercial and sport fishing industries.”

As one fellow supporter of Save Bristol Bay put it, “It is the classic example of the relentless pressure that extractive resource corporate lobbyists can put on the government, even when the consequences are going to be disastrous.”

It now seems the need for EPA action is even more apparent as a result of recent attempts in Alaska to ease mining regulations and make it easier for the proposed Pebble Mine to move forward. EPA action is the only way to ensure that reasonable restrictions are in place to ensure the health of Bristol Bay’s watershed, jobs, sustainable industries and unparalleled recreation.

Please join me and other sportsmen and women as we continue to make our voices heard on this issue of unparalleled importance.  To find out how you can help, visit Trout Unlimited’s website here.

Red Gold | trailer from FELT SOUL MEDIA on Vimeo.

Make sure to share this article with your networks, friends, and families.  This is an extremely important conservation topic right now, and we need your support.  Agree or disagree?  Leave your comments below!

George Barnett’s Polaroid photographs recount tales as timeless and storied as the woods themselves.  At only 20 years old, the Kentucky native offers furtive glimpses of not only the mystery found in nature, but also the inherent maturity.  Over the last 6 years of captured memories, Filson has become George’s weathered travel partner; a central subject in his surreal work as well as his means of toting cameras and equipment.  Follow George on a recent trek through the wilderness with his brother to a pristine area called “Rough River.”

My Brother and I set out for a camping trip.   A quest.  It’s the middle of winter and snow is all around us.  We set out in his big red truck full of sleeping bags, field bags, food, water and our four-man tent.  We were driving aimlessly to a beautiful lake in Leitchfield, KY called “Rough River”.  Along the way we would stop and admire the countryside, the Amish communities, and just the sun going down.  We got there shortly after sundown and setup camp and collected firewood to keep warm throughout the night.  The next morning we woke up, zipped out of our tent and we saw a beautiful untouched white landscape for us to hike through.  I wore my Filson x Burton Sentry Jacket because it’s the perfect coat for winter and especially winter photography.  It’s the equivalent of having my Field Bag (countless pockets and storage), but it’s built into your jacket.  I would shoot my Polaroid’s and tuck them into the wool inside chest pocket to keep the developing images warm.  Along with my hiking gear was my field bag full of film, cameras and hand warmers.  We ventured on through the brush, and came across frozen lakes and creeks.  We just gazed over the scenery for hours walking, reading trails and animal tracks along the way.  Talking a little here and there, snapping pictures with my SX-70 and SLR, mainly just taking in the fresh air and beauty that mother earth provides.  It’s always a great feeling to share something like that with the people you love.

Nature is Good.  Life is Good.

‘In Your Words’ explores the incredible stories we’ve received from Filson fans across the globe.  Send us your own experiences with our clothing or product here for a chance to be featured on the Filson Life blog.  Thanks to Matt from Eagle Mountain Guide Service in Maine for his story and support thus far.

I am a Maine hunting and fishing guide who spends a lot of time all year in the outdoors.  We live in a world that is moving towards high tech materials and away from old school.  Here in Maine, we who work and play in the cold winters know that wool is still the only way to go.  In this picture I am ice fishing on a remote lake in downeast Maine.  I am wearing my Double Mackinaw Cruiser and my Mackinaw Field Pants.  Under that I have on my Original Extra Long Wool Shirt, my Alaskan Long Johns and my Heavyweight OTC Merino Socks.  The outside air temp is 5 degrees with 25 MPH sustained winds and frequent 40-50 MPH gusts!  I fished all day oblivious to the cold.

All Rights Reserved – Kelly James

Kelly James is a long-time friend of Filson and an inspiring photographer based in the Pacific Northwest.  At the age of 13, Kelly was drawn to photography for reasons he couldn’t yet explain, but by 15 could already be found working in the darkroom of the local newspaper.  Now, he has operated a commercial photography studio for over 20 years.  An avid and passionate explorer, Kelly has captured images of views, vistas, and extraordinary experiences that many people will never see with their own eyes.

Solitude is a rare experience these days. I am fortunate in that I get to experience it more than most people. At least that was what I was telling my self as I trudged through the snow with a heavy pack on my back, snowshoes strapped to my boots, and only my moon shadow to keep me company. My destination was the west side of Crater Lake and I was about four miles in. The parking lot at the lodge had held three vehicles other than mine and I had one by one passed their owners heading out. The last being a young couple on skis I met just as the sun was going down. So I knew I was the only soul within many miles.

My intent was to find a good vantage point on the west side of the caldera, sleep in the snow and get up before dawn to photograph the sunrise.

Conventional wisdom has it that backcountry adventures should not be done alone but the nature of my work has always made it difficult to include anyone else. I had just had a meeting with one of my clients on Friday. I was going to be shooting their 2014 calendar. Crater Lake is to be featured on the January page. Of course that means a snow shot. I knew the weather conditions we were experiencing potentially could create some beautiful sunrise images. I had to deliver my daughter back to college in Ashland on Monday so I would be in the area, and Monday being MLK day entrance to the park would be FREE! Holy Cow! Rarely do the stars align like that. It seemed I’d be a fool not to give it a shot. Of course this was decided on Sunday. Hard to find anyone available on such short notice and willing to endure the conditions of such an assignment. So of course like always I was on my own.

Not quite to the peak called The Watchman I veered off the main trail and headed for the rim of the caldera. It was a steep climb and the snow was soft but not too difficult to manage. I only had a few hundred yards to cover. I passed though the tree line and emerged on a vantage point looking over the lake. Standing on the edge of the caldera the moonlit vista across the lake was incredible. I was still breathing a little hard from the climb as I stood there taking it in. As often happens after sundown the wind had stilled. The silence was profound. I was very excited.

A little hiking to the South found me a spot that I thought would make for some good images. Of course by this time it was quite dark and I was in the shadow of the trees. I pulled off my pack and made a simple camp. I anticipated the stillness so had left my tent back in my rig bringing just a ground cloth, a Thermarest, and a very good sleeping bag. Using a technique we taught ourselves snow camping in boy scouts I built a very small fire in the snow and ate my dinner.

Sitting there in the snow looking out across that moonlit lake, an occasional gust of wind whistling the tree tops, I experienced the most complete feeling of solitude that I had ever experienced on all of my solo adventures. An absolute calm and peacefulness, like I was meant to be there.  My life has been filled with many such adventures and I realized long ago that not everyone was meant to do such things. I was thinking about that and how at that moment I was so thankful that I was.