We’ve come a long way since 1897 when C.C. Filson met the rugged clothing needs of loggers and gold miners. OK, now fast forward to 2012, where is the need now? What is the cry from the wilderness? Who are the new prospectors and sportsmen?

Dennis Lynch Hosts a BBQ

First, let’s make a list of what C.C. Filson’s dream has delivered over the years:

1. Meshing with the great outdoors

2. Helping us enjoy the company of others outdoors in comfort and style

3. Helping us pursue and enjoy nature’s beauty

4. Always being dressed with function and style in mind

When you tic off the numbers above, you just might find yourself outside, grilling a steak, sipping a cold beverage with your friends…that’s an idea! A whole line of Filson Bar-B-Que equipment. Sure, now our Yukon Gold might come in the form of potato salad, and out lumberjacking might consist of putting another log on the smoker, but one can imagine oneself pitted (pun intended) against a roaring fire, inclement weather, and a huge hunk of meat while in the company of friends, smoking, deep frying, grilling, whatever. Man (or woman) against nature. It still works!

A Filson Inspired BBQ

Now page through a Filson catalog or scroll through the

website. How many things could morph from the duck blind to the fire pit? How many items could enhance the grilling experience? Tin cloth, feather cloth, it all works.

OK, maybe not a photo op of a roasting whole pig with a Filson bumper in its mouth on the catalog cover. I don’t want old C.C. spinning in his grave. I only want to remind you that the only think you can do wrong with your Filson gear is leaving it hanging in the closet.

Maine-based Rhon Bell of Backwoods Plaid, takes Filson along for a late season camping trip navigated by bush plane. This remote access provides access to moose, top notch salmon fishing and memories with friends that will endure a lifetime.

Late season camping offers a special attraction for every outdoor lover. Vibrant peak-colored leaves of fall hang tenderly to every branch. Late-season salmon linger in the pristine waters of a remote wilderness. Warm afternoons are quickly met with the bite of an evening chill that causes outdoorsmen to resort to the comfort of a woolen shirt.

A Cessna and Filson duffle in camp

We load the Cessna with needed gear for two days of adventure. Our aviation headsets quickly tune to XM radio and taxi off into the heart of the woods. The Maine woods, much like Alaska, are filled with bodies of water. Bush pilots often call great comparisons to the two states. In fact, my friend, today’s pilot, has flown extensively in each.

We agree our first mission before landing is to see a Bull Moose. Jamming out to Hank William Jr’s “A Country Boy Can Survive”, twenty minutes into our trip, we spot a large bull in his natural habitat. Two passes are made over a full-grown male feasting on lake vegetation before we coast in for a quiet landing.

Maine’s Fall foliage

From a distance, the beauty is observed of the mammoth Maine creature. Back in the air, a distant body of water comes into view beyond the oranges, reds, and yellows of the forest canopy far below. Lower Richardson Lake will be our home for the following days. This is one of the largest in the state and home to only a historic guiding camp. A secluded sand beach awaits the floats of our plane. No time is wasted setting up camp and wading into the lake for a few evening casts. Each of us experience success before dusk by hauling in a glimmering salmon. The enjoyment is quickly shared before release, but the memories will surely last.

Filson along for the ride

The night sky is soon filled with billions of blinking stars shining so brightly that mirrored reflections are present on the peaceful lake. A certain calm is brought to this world that is hours away from the nearest house or honking horn. This is a place I could call home. A cold beverage of choice and good company make for an entirely perfect camping experience.

Afternoons are spent exploring the wilds of a state rather untouched by man. The only part of landing at camp I look forward to is grilling thick steaks over the flames of a fire where the wood was chopped by my own hand. The crackling of an evening fire fills the only void that reading a quiet book leaves behind. My first bush plane camping experience is one for the books. Until tomorrow, packing for home is only a day away.

George Hickox has a passion for developing bird dogs and has trained and campaigned National High Point Champions, numerous Field Champions, and has garnered over 100 field trial placements. He is also the Hunting Dog Editor for Shooting Sportsman Magazine, writes training columns for Pointing Dog Journal ,Retriever Journal, has written numerous dog training articles for magazines such as The Purina Breeder and Pheasants Forever, and appears regularly on television. Visit www.GeorgeHickox.com  for training tips, articles, training school schedules, and training DVDs.

George Hickox’s litter of pointer pups

Earlier this summer ten pointer pups were born.  Five of the pups went to new homes at eight weeks of age. I kept five of the pups, three males and two females.  The pedigree of the pups is truly blue ribbon with three Bird Dog Hall of Fame dogs in the first two generations and a multitude of titled field champions in the family tree.

George Hickox’s pointer, Diva

The hopefuls are now twelve weeks old.  It will be two years before the pups will be hunting in control, hold point reliably, be steady to wing and shot, and back dependably.  But the training started six weeks ago.

I think a great way to start the pups off learning to learn is with clicker training. Clicker training encourages dogs to open their mind to new learning and offer behaviors in order to get a reward.  In the initial stages I use food as food is a primary reinforcement.  I get the behaviors of standing on a board, going into a kennel, touching target sticks, and recall.  As eventually “Whoa” will be the most important command in a pointing dog’s life because holding point with style will be the most important task expected of the dog I do a lot of repetitions rewarding the dog for standing.

George Hickox’s pointer, Grits

I believe it is of paramount importance to introduce the pups to birds at an early age. I want to develop the pointing instincts and the desire to quest. I first introduce the youngsters to pigeons and quail released from a Johnny house.  I want the pups to have bird contacts every time they are taken to the field in their early development.  No birds>no bird dog. It is much more difficult to get a 12 month old dog pointing and exhibiting strong bird instincts if the dog has not yet been exposed to birds than it is to jump start genetically talented puppies.

During the summer I worked part-time at a local fly shop, The Fly Fisher’s Place. This shop, like many counterparts all over the country, is open for business, but they aren’t there just to sell flies and book guide trips. These shops provide not only a place to buy fishing tackle and get the latest information about what is happening on the local waters but, more importantly, to provide a place to learn something new, swap ideas, share stories and brag a little about one’s latest catch. Most days are relatively the same, with the usual stream of folks either coming in to get advice about where to go and what to use, or stopping by to tell a tale of where they’ve been and what they’ve caught. So unless you are retired, or one of the “20-something” employees fortunate enough to be able to spend the majority of their free time stalking fish, both of the above scenarios can generate frustration for the person standing behind the counter. Not yet retired, and having left the “20-something” category behind long ago, I fight that predictable and on-going itch caused by not getting in enough time to fish myself.

Crooked River Canyon

Last week was different. I was privy to an unusually refreshing story that was about much more than catching fish. Dick and Joanie Finley, a couple who looked to be in their late seventies, were part of the usual gaggle of customers lined up that Wednesday morning to meet their guide, have licenses checked, etc., and go off for a day of fishing in Central Oregon. These two stood out, not only because of their age, but because, as I could over hear, they had a couple of serious of concerns. Dick was uncomfortable in boats and wanted to be on a smaller stream, and Joanie’s bad back made it challenging, even dangerous, for her to wade. Not only was there this quandary as to where to go fishing, but they were brand new to the sport, having taken it up recently; the plastic sleeve still covering the cork grips on their newly purchased rods. As they went back and forth with our guide, Mac, trying to find a suitable and safe solution to their predicament, the other shop employee and I just looked at one another and shook our heads. Good luck, Mac. This had the potential to be one of those trips guides talk about for years.

As it turned out . . . it was, but for reasons other than what we’d assumed. When Mac came into the shop the next morning, I asked him how his day with the Finleys went, expecting to hear the worst. It seems, once on the stream, the Finleys opened up to Mac, as clients sometimes do. There is something about being in the outdoors, about being on the water that just clears away all the clutter and allows those things that are truly important and real to come to the surface. Mac learned that Dick had recently been diagnosed with a serious illness and Joanie struggled with chronic pain on a regular basis. After Dick’s diagnosis they decided they wanted to do something together . . . as Dick put it, “have one more adventure.” Being people who enjoyed the outdoors, fly fishing seemed like a reasonable choice, as it offered time in nature and did not require a great deal of strength or stamina. They had recently read up on the sport, purchased the needed equipment and were ready to give it a go. This day with Mac was their day to see if fly fishing could give them what they were looking for. Joanie described it as their “one last chance”.

Mac took them to the Crooked River, a beautiful high desert stream that winds though colorful, basalt rimrock and gives the outdoorsman the opportunity to experience the wild and untamed without having to travel too far from town. First, Mac took the time to work with each of them on their casting stroke. He then went on to share some particulars about the Crooked River watershed and where to find the native rainbows that lived within. They discussed insects, hatches, what the fish might be eating, and together they chose which flies to use based on the current hatch. Once on the water, it seemed Joanie in particular, had a hard time setting the hook, so as the day wore on, Mac offered to set it for her. She would cast, pass the rod to Mac, and if a fish took the fly, he would set the hook and hand the rod back to Joanie so she could have the experience of playing her fish and landing it. By sunset, both Finleys had hooked, fought and landed fish.

Rainbow Trout from Crooked River

A lot can be said about fly fishing guides. Whole books have been written by and about them. They are a different breed for sure, and like any other profession, some are much better than others. Sure, we might all judge a guide by how well she knows a stretch of water, how skillful he is behind the ores and, of course, how many fish they put us into. But I really stand up and take notice when I hear a story like the one Dick and Joanie must be telling their friends. So hats off to guides like Mac who are patient, who have the knowledge, ability and desire to teach the eager novice, not only how to catch a fish, but about what it takes to become accomplished in the art of fly fishing.

Dick and Joanie have booked a second trip with Mac. This time they want to try lake fishing from a boat. The adventure continues.

Tyler Sharp is a writer, photographer and filmmaker based in Austin, TX. He’s currently working to preserve the Chisholm Trail and pass Bill HR2849 which would designate the trail as a National Historic Trail. You can learn more about Tyler and the Chisholm Trail Project at www.tylersharp.com Continue Reading »

Growing up in a family of hunters & fishermen has lead Kristen Monroe of OutdoorNews.com to have passion for the outdoors. When she was young she loved waking up at the crack of dawn to go fishing with her older brother and dad. Although she was only allowed to fish for bluegills as a young girl she couldn’t wait until she was old enough to cast for her first bass. Now she and her husband are looking forward to taking their own children fishing and sharing passion for the outdoors with them.

Shooters at the AGLOW Conference

I don’t do it to get rich. I don’t do it for fame and glory. I share my passion of the outdoors with hopes of inspiring others. Being an outdoor writer is a not an easy gig. It’s somewhat competitive and there are many fantastic writers that have been in the business for many years. Thankfully, I have surrounded myself with good and talented people that help me along the way. Recently, I attended The Association of Great Lakes Outdoor Writers’ (AGLOW) 56th Annual AGLOW Conference at Chateau on the Lake in Branson, Missouri.

As I pass my outdoor experiences on to my readers, I look to tenured writers for support and advice. I can give credit to Berdette Zastrow, past President of AGLOW. If it wasn’t for her, I would not be where I am today. Zastrow said, “I’m an outdoor writer because I love sharing the outdoors with others. They can laugh at my mistakes and hopefully learn from them. I can share information which will help other anglers and hunters in the field. I mentor new anglers and hunters and carry it forward in my articles.”

Kristen Monroe Trying the New Browning 725 Citori

Outdoor writers, manufacturers and tourism departments congregate to network at the annual AGLOW conference. Writers mingle with old friends, expand their audiences and discover new ideas. Corporate members display new products and meet members of the media to help spread their message. And finally, tourism departments proudly display exciting hunting and fishing destinations. Of course we hunt, fish, shoot, and learn during the day. At night time, laughter can be heard echoing across the lake, and the sound of glasses clinking together is not uncommon. AGLOW is a tight knit group and the members truly work to help each other out and have a great time while doing it.

National Shooting Sports Foundation sponsored an explosive shooting day at Ozark Shooters. Trying a wide verity of shotguns,

crossbows and handguns is a real treat- perhaps my favorite activity at the conference. Shooting with some of the best manufacturers and their professional representatives has its advantages. Matt Rice representing Smith and Wesson helped to improve my handgun grip a bit. Brad Boner from Hawke Optics set up the new Mathews crossbow over 300 times so different media members could check out their new scope. I could not believe he was still smiling as he cocked bolt number 300. It felt good to hit a bear right in the bullseye at 60 yards–shooting crossbows is a ton of fun.

Kristen Monroe at the AGLOW Conference

A few of us went pheasant hunting at Down Home Huntin’, and many others grabbed their rods and cast with Branson’s top guides. Some fished for bass on Table Rock Lake. Others wet their line from Hobie Kayaks for rainbow trout on Lake Taneycomo. Everyone knows passing on outdoor heritage to family and friends is crucial to keeping the outdoor dream alive. A good outdoor writer knows how to enrich someone’s outdoor world; sharing tips, emotions, and adventures. Maybe you too could become an outdoor writer and share your outdoor dreams.

As this was my first time to join my father and his friends on their annual fly fishing trip, I fully intended to sit back, observe, and do what I could to “learn the ropes” of their routines and traditions.

Flying into Bozeman, Montana, we got a breathtaking preview of Paradise Valley from above. We excitedly packed all of our Filson luggage into the rental suburban, and began to go through the checklist of pre-fishing necessities. We had to pick up our boat, get fishing licenses, and consult with some local guides on which of the flies the fish found irresistible. But there were some parts of the preparation that we couldn’t do until the rest of the guys got there. I quickly learned that every part of this trip was a tradition to them, even the buying of supplies.

When the rest of the crew arrived, we promptly stocked up on snacks, chewing tobacco, banquet beer, and some rye whiskey for when the day was done.  They pretty much had our evenings planned out for us, with visits to their favorite restaurants, watering holes, and even paying house visits to locals they had befriended over the last 30 years. It was plain to see how much they all loved this trip, and how quickly they left their troubles behind.

We had a full 3 days of fishing the Yellowstone River, trying different areas each day. The conditions were near perfect, and the river was for the most part devoid of other boats. My brother and I floated mainly with the guide, which worked in our favor, as he usually put us on the best drift lines, and we landed the most fish overall. But I made a point to rotate boats, and ride with my Dad and his friends as well, so that I could document.

For them, fishing was just one small part of this trip. They are all excellent fishermen, but didn’t take it too seriously, and had more fun just being around each other than any fishing success could provide. They laughed constantly, told stories, and toasted to Zimmy, their fallen friend.

Over the course of the three days, I asked them all what it meant to be out on the river. Their answers were all the same; it was not only an escape from their daily lives and careers, but also a rare chance to be in the company of lifelong friends. And though one of their fishing buddies could no longer be with them, they all felt that being in the Big Sky Country brought them closer to him. Coming back every year was a way that they could honor him, and keep his memory alive.

This type of trip exists for many people; whether friends, brothers, father and son, or grandchildren, those of us who have been fishing with the ones we care about is an experience that is hard to put into words. It is a bond that transcends mere sport, and breaches the realms of the human spirit. Traditions like these must be kept alive, cherished, and documented wherever possible. I am grateful that my father and his friends feel the same way, and invited my brother and I to help keep the spirit of this trip alive, not just for them, but also for the rest of our families for generations to come.

Filson Life guest blogger, Tom Slaughter, is a year-round hunter – both a planner and an executer. Whether it’s traveling to Alaska, Colorado or Montana, this hunter is always prepared for the journey, especially when he has his Filson gear with him. In this post, Slaughter lends insight to packing for an out-of-state hunt.

I look forward to every year’s hunting draw results to see where I will be heading out west to.  Each year, I take a few trips across country that requires air transportation.  Every few months the airlines/TSA change regulations regarding traveling with a firearm and the amount of baggage you can travel with.  Always check with your airline to see what the new rules are.

Filson Carry-On

Fortunately, I have been able to avoid serious excess baggage fees over the past few years by finding the best way to minimize fees and still bring what I need.  I am heading out to Wyoming in about two weeks for a Mule deer hunt.  For this flight, I am flying an airline that allows me two checked bags, one carry on, and one personal item.   For the outgoing flight, I always plan on only checked bag, one carry on, and one personal item. This way, I reserve the second checked bag allowance in anticipation of bringing a cooler on the return trip filled with the reward of a successful hunt.

In my Filson “carry on,” I pack all of my under garments, pants, shirts, socks, hats, gloves, and outer protective clothing.  In my “personal bag,” for which I use my day back, I pack my optics which include a spotting scope, binoculars, range finder, and camera equipment. I also include my Boots in my carry on as they are not something I am willing to wait for should be luggage be delayed.  The majority of the other checked equipment can be borrowed in a worst case scenario.  Boots also take up to 10% of the permissible weight so this helps economize weight, as well.

A well-packed carry-on

Finally, my gun case, is my checked back and in it I include my firearm, vacuum sealer, first aid kit, field dressing kit and game bags, and a gun case to use in camp.  I know that my gun case weighs exactly 49lbs and include an index card (with a list of the contents) in it so that I know to pack the same way on the return trip to avoid shuffling equipment at the ticket counter.

If I am fortunate enough to harvest a Mule Deer, I will purchase the necessary coolers and pack it with the meat.  Most airlines allow 2lbs of dry ice with the vented coolers (take the drain plug out).  This is more than enough to keep your meat cool to get it home.
I would also recommend keeping the dry ice on top with a piece of cardboard separating the meat and the dry ice.

Tom Slaughter Packing Tips: Gun Case

Currently, with Delta, you can ship antlers for $100 or less; this is a less expensive option than going to a shipping center or having a taxidermist ship them.  The baggage fees for this airline after 2 checked bags  is $50.  A Mule deer will take up two coolers.

Learning to pack efficiently was one lesson I learned the hard way.  I went out west for an elk hunt and ended up spending $300 in excess baggage fees to get my stuff and 1 full elk home.  Luckily, this was not as bad as another hunter in camp that spent $1,100 shipping his meat home from a processor plus his excess baggage fees.  I highly recommend spending a little extra time packing and talking to the airlines about the limitations.  Not only will it save you money, but you will be better organized.

Tyler Sharp is a writer, photographer and filmmaker based in Austin, TX. He’s currently working to preserve the Chisholm Trail and pass Bill HR2849 which would designate the trail as a National Historic Trail. You can learn more about Tyler and the Chisholm Trail Project at www.tylersharp.com

In 1981, my father and his three best friends traveled to the Paradise Valley area of Montana for business. After their work was done, they spent four days fishing in the Yellowstone River, and were hooked, literally, for life. Despite their busy careers, family lives, and commitments, they all managed to come back every year for the last 30.

Growing up, I remember seeing photos of their annual trips, and being told stories of their adventures and mishaps in the Big Sky Country of Montana; the grandeur of the scenery, the pristine conditions, and the occasional wayward wildlife that came too close for comfort. And though I had been fly fishing before, I had never been on THE fishing trip with them.

After so many years, they all decided it was time to pass on the tradition to the next generation, so my brother and I were invited on the trip this time. But our joining the group had more significance than just passing a tradition on; we were to help them do something they had wanted to do for several years, something of emotional and symbolic significance.

Four years ago, their friend, trip leader, and fishing mentor passed away. To honor his memory, they all vowed to never miss a year of the trip, do what they could to keep the tradition alive, and hold the same reverence for the Paradise Valley that he did. They had talked of doing a ceremony of some kind several times, and approached me to help them carry it out.

I had them all select their favorite photographs of him from their previous fishing trips, and think of their favorite stories and memories to share. Over the course of the trip, I had them share these stories on video, and say anything they didn’t get to say before, knowing the end result would be something they could watch, and remember forever. At the end of the trip, I was to have them burn the photographs, and release the ashes in the Yellowstone River, where their friend truly belonged.

It was such an honor to be able to come on this trip, and even more so to help my dad and his friends find a meaningful outlet for the love and respect they had for this man. And though we have all lost someone dear to us, we have not all taken the time to do something like this.

And so the following videos, in three parts, document something that we should all consider doing, whether they’re living or deceased; to honor a friend.

Rhon Bell of Backwoods Plaid, shares the feelings and stories that accompany a kayaking trip in Maine.

The best companion

Standing barefoot on a sandy river bank, we peer with anticipation across the deadwater that we’ll soon be paddling to begin our journey.  Our destination is a remote

chain of lakes deep in the heart of the Maine woods that are connected to this river system. Kayaking and exploring will put both our muscles and fortitude to the test over the next four days. This adventure will be different than the others as roped behind my kayak, in a dinghy, will be my 90 lb. English Lab, Casco. I’ve held true to my promise of never kenneling him. He makes for great company.

Filson gear is packed

After packing our boats to the gills with gear, we set out upon our journey. Casco immediately finds comfort by laying his head on my Filson Tin Cloth Duffle that I secured in front of him. Casco watches with intent as we float past the ancient tall pines (survivors from centuries of timber harvests and log drives). These beautifully calm waters hold a crystal clear reflection of tremendous blue morning skies.

Our first evening stay is on a secluded sandy beach. After unloading, we wade out into the warm lake for an evening swim. The only ripples to interfere with the mirror-like finish on the water’s surface are caused by our splashing. This refreshing dip washes away the afternoon sweat. A classic meal of beans and hotdogs is warmed atop a small cook stove for dinner. With full bellies and tuckered-out bodies, we gather firewood. Flint and steel produce a blazing spark which ignites a birch bark tinder bundle. Evening hours are spent sharing stories fireside, under the light of a waxing moon; we soon retire to our respective tents.

This would serve as the first and last pleasant day on the water. A relentless evening rain sets in and lingered for the remainder of our stay. Luckily, my valuable gear was meticulously packed inside my Filson Tin Cloth Duffle and remained dry for the four full days. Each afternoon we hauled our kayaks to shore and sprang beneath a heavy cover of spruce for lunch. I half expected to find my headlamp, clothes, food, camera, and tent soaked; to my surprise the bag was seemingly impenetrable.

Filson gear

Filson Antique Tin Cloth pants did their best to shield me from the downpours. The Vintage Plaid shirts kept me cool and my arms from becoming burnt from sun behind the cloud cover. My Filson gear held up miraculously under some of the worst conditions I’ve been through. The weather doesn’t always cooperate and that’s why we all should require the best gear available. So the slogan goes – “You might as well have the best!”