Scott Sneer CEO of Alpha Ecological, Owner of Blaze Outdoor Adventures, and part-owner of Fikkes Outdoor Innovations, is one of the founders of Hunting with Heroes and other events to honor veterans. Scott’s family heritage runs deep in the military and he offers his perspective on what Memorial Day is to him.

Memorial Day through the Eyes of a Veteran’s Son

Have you ever listened to a veteran share their war stories or the memories they have of those who have fallen? I have had this unique opportunity and to me, these stories are what Memorial Day genuinely reflects. Hearing a veteran describe their struggles, their gains, their happy memories, and their sad ones is a privilege that I have been able to have throughout my life and I would love to share with you.

I personally never served my country through the military, but I grew up in a military family and was able to see first-hand the healing that can happen in the great outdoors.

I remember when I was a young boy going hunting and fishing with both of my grandfathers and my father. We would first stop in Hood River to pick apples to bring to farms and ranches, so that they would let us hunt on their land. This was a family tradition and we built a lot of meaningful relationships out of this simple gesture.  Both of my grandfathers and my father were veterans and back then there were not a lot of programs in place to help veterans after their time of service. Looking back, I can see the great lengths that these men went to, just to have the chance to hunt and fish. It was something that they were truly passionate about. With nothing more than apples for a budget, they made some great memories come to life.

For these men it wasn’t just about the hunt or the catch. Something special happened while we were out there in the woods hiking, hunting, and fishing along the Columbia and the Willamette river or pushing through cattails along the Umatilla river. We were just a bunch of guys out in the wilderness, getting together around a campfire and swapping stories. This is what I remember and miss most about my childhood, not the trips to Disneyland or the toys I got for my birthday, but just being out in the woods with them and hearing the amazing things they did for our country.  I’m thankful I still have this opportunity today with my father.

These hunting and fishing experiences impacted me deeply. The healing that takes place in the outdoors is incredible and I want to help provide this experience to anyone that has served in the military or armed forces.

My childhood experiences lead to the vision of Hunting with Heroes. Hunting with Heroes gives 50 men and women of the military a weekend of hunting and fishing. They have the chance to sit around a camp-fire and swap war stories. It allows them to bond with others who also have served across several generations and in various wars. Seeing all of these men and women, both young and old, connect over a common interest while helping each other heal, is truly what Memorial Day is all about for me.

“Where I get my excitement from is having the same experience for Iraq and Afghanistan vets to see them go through this, and allow them to get their first good night sleep in years, just gets me excited. The guided hunting and fishing trips gave us a venue where we could just bring things up and talk about it while we were doing something that we enjoy… One of the most important things you can do is talk about your experiences.” Jerry Keen – Vietnam Vet, founder of Point Man Ministries and guest at Hunting with Heroes 2011.

“Gathering of vets is the most important part of the healing process because only vets really know vets.”    Quote from Beau Russell – Vietnam Veteran and Hunting with Heroes 2012 guest.

Not all of us have had the opportunity to serve our country, but we all have the opportunity to honor and serve the men and women that have. I want to give every veteran the chance to hunt and fish. Instead of trading apples for hunting and fishing, Hunting with Heroes provides these veterans with the land and gear they need to create new memories, and enjoy all that this trip has to offer.

On Memorial Day, we are reminded of our fallen heroes. This year I am encouraging everyone to remember them daily, and pass the story of their heroism to the next generation. My job on Memorial Day is to tell my children all about these stories and share with them all of my memories of these great men and women that have fallen. Memorial Day reminds me of the importance of creating new memories for the veterans that are still here, through the great outdoor sports of hunting and fishing.

Al James is a musician and avid fly fisher based in Portland, Oregon.  Al has carefully combed the banks of the Deschutes River for over 10 years, and offers 5 hard-earned lessons for fishing this beautiful waterway.

Drop everything and fish the salmon fly hatch

It’s estimated that there are more than 3,500 Wild Redside Rainbow Trout per mile on the Lower Deschutes River in Central Oregon which stretches for 100 miles from Pelton Dam down to its confluence at the Columbia River. That’s a helluva lot of football-shaped, blood-red trout that –pound for pound– might be some of the strongest fighters in the salmonidae family. Mid-May through early June is a special time on this glorious river with the yearly explosion of gigantic salmon flies that hatch and provide a non-stop old country buffet style feeding frenzy for these aggressive lunkers.

This year will be no different and most guides and shops that service the river are predicting a mid-May hatch which means there’s a 2-3 week window to head over to the Deschutes and experience one of the most epic trout fishing experiences on the West Coast. If you haven’t tried it, make the trip. There is plenty of river, tons of access, and like I stated before, lots and lots of hungry fish. I’ve fished this hatch on and off for a decade and here are some basics I’ve learned over the years:

Fish the banks. I’m serious about this one. If you are wading up to your knees (unless you’re fishing toward the bank) you probably spooked all the fish in the area. I wear waders, but try to step in the water as little as possible. The fish on the Deschutes hold right up against the bank. This is good news because it’s a big river. It’s not about long casts here. It’s about breaking the river into manageable pieces and working the banks with short, careful casts.

Keep moving. Work a section of river and then move on to the next one. If you hook and lose a fish, give it a rest and come back in a half hour. Head up or downstream and then revisit spots where you’ve seen or hooked fish. The more you move, the more fish you’ll find. Last year a monster Redside broke me off three times under the same overhanging branches in the course of one weekend. I’d visit the spot in the morning, the afternoon and in the evening every day I was there. I’ll be back this year to the same exact spot with heavier tippet.

Come early or late. Often hitting the Deschutes just before or after the hatch by a week or two can yield incredible fishing. During the peak of the hatch the Redsides are often too full to feed. You don’t have to hit it perfectly. Check with online reports from Central Oregon fly shops for current details.

Spring has arrived here. This means you’ll likely see an awesome array of critters and wildlife: wild turkeys, river otters, mallard ducklings, mergansers, osprey, mountain goats, and on the downside, poison oak and rattlesnakes. For all the cool stuff pack a camera and binoculars, for the other two bring Technu skin treatment and a cautious step when you’re hiking around the riverbanks.

Check in with the experts. Fly shops in Eugene, Maupin, Portland and Welches start posting up-to-the-day reports on the hatch starting in May. They’re on the river every day and are monitoring it as it develops. They’ll post when and where the salmon flies are starting to show up. They’ll also steer you in the right direction for fly selection, but then again, that’s the beauty of this hatch. The flies are big and simple and in most cases, foolproof.

 

Words and photos by Judith O’Keefe

The weather was dreary, a typical March day on the North Umpqua River.  A friend and I made the five hour drive over the mountains to meet up with John, a well known author, fly tier, longtime friend and — most importantly — frequent visitor to this legendary and challenging river.

John was a gracious host that morning, leading us to some of the easier runs, offering tips and allowing us to fish the run ahead of him.   We saw one fish roll late morning, but no one hooked up. The climate on the west side of the mountains is known to be wet, but by noon it had begun to rain in earnest, so we decided to take a break and pay a visit to John’s good friends, Frank and Jeanne Moore.

I’d met Frank and Jeanne in 2002 at a sport show and, at that time, Frank had extended an invitation to visit their home and fish with him on the Umpqua.  I was flattered by the invitation and eager to spend some time with these two, but had never found the time to make the drive over.  I didn’t know much about Frank back then, other than he was known as a “living legend.”  That title is thrown around loosely these days, but I was to learn that Frank Moore had earned it through his skill as a fly fisher, his willingness to mentor others and his successful and ongoing conservation efforts.

The Moores’ log home sat perched on a ridge above the river.  When we arrived, Frank was outside chatting with friends who were fishing a forest pond in front of the house.  The six of us stood around for 10 minutes talking about fish and fishing and the rising river.  Apparently, those west side folks are used to getting wet and didn’t seem to notice the rain.  Frank asked if we’d eaten lunch and when we said we had not, he invited us in to sample Jeanne’s grilled cheese sandwiches. Besides, he had a couple of old photographs of the river he wanted to show us that would help to illustrate a story he was telling.   A hot meal sounded perfect and I was interested in hearing the rest of the story.

As we peeled off our saturated outerwear and waders on the front porch, I eagerly anticipated a warm room and hot food, but I was unprepared for what I experienced when I walked through the door.  Steam rose from the kettle on the wood cook stove as Jeanne stood with her back to us, spreading butter on bread.  The walls of the great-room were filled with mementos, beautifully framed photographs and artwork.  I imagined that each had a story to tell.   I was right.  Three hours flew by as we talked about the past and the present.  I learned a lot about the Moores, who recently celebrated their seventieth wedding anniversary.   Frank grew up fishing in southern Oregon and, after the war, he and his bride moved to the North Umpqua to run the legendary Steamboat Inn and raise a family on the river.   Not only were the ensuing years filled with creating a world-renowned destination, but Frank also spent considerable time and effort that resulted in regulations that curbed the effects of logging on the river and surrounding environment.   At age 90, I’m told that Frank can still out-cast most fly fisherman, with casts that reach 100 feet when the need arises.  I’ve heard Frank called a Spiritual Father, Grand Old Man of the River, The Great Frank Moore, and yes, a Living Legend.  Indeed!

While stories of an adventurous life spent on the river were truly awe inspiring, Frank’s sincere appreciation of the natural world is what really impressed me.  We all fish and spend time outdoors for our different reasons.  If I were asked to sum up my reasons in one word, that word would be “connection.”  So I understand why Frank and Jeanne chose to spend their life on the beautiful and remote Umpqua River, and I deeply appreciate their willingness to open their home and their lives to fellow fly fishers.  My life is richer for the experience.

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.

Photos courtesy of Kelly James.  All rights reserved.

The road up Green Ridge snakes through dense forests until you reach a place near the top where it makes a hairpin switchback and breaks into the open. From that spot there is a view of the east side of the Central Oregon Cascades.  I had driven to that spot in the middle of January. There was about five inches of snow covering the gravel, and mine were the only tracks in the snow. I parked at the hairpin and scrambled up a very steep embankment to try and get some photographs of the sun setting behind the peaks.

I had spent the day shooting images of snow covered forests for a client. For most of the day I had bright sunshine to make my images more interesting. That was not the case when I reached my vantage point on Green Ridge. A bank of clouds had formed on the Western horizon and it looked like the sweet light was going to be blocked. The best shot I could get was of the clouds rolling over the top of Three Fingered Jack. I shot what I could until I was left to scramble down the embankment in the dark.

I loaded up my gear, turned the rig around, and drove through the hairpin heading back down the ridge. Immediately after rounding the curve, a set of tracks came onto the road from the down hill side. They were not there when I came through before. Coyote was my first thought. I followed them down the road until the next switchback where they continued straight into the forest. I stopped the rig and got out to investigate.  Not coyote. I went back to the rig and positioned it so the headlights were lighting the tracks then grabbed my camera and tripod. These were cougar tracks and I could see some potential for an interesting image. Cougar populations have been on the rise in Oregon and this wasn’t the first time I had crossed trails with one of the mountain predators. Still, these were the biggest tracks I had ever seen. I set up my camera and took my shots. At one point I reached down with my hand to measure the track. The paw print was way bigger than my fist.  This is one big cat. I turned around to check the tree line to make sure I was not being stalked. Now, cougars have several names and I always wondered about that.  But at that moment I had the realization that if the animal weighs more than I do — as this one undoubtedly did — that is when a cougar becomes a mountain lion.

As I was packing my camera back into the rig, I thought of just how close that animal had passed. My next thought, might want to start packing my pistol.

Photos courtesy of Wood&Faulk.

Matt Pierce is a modern day jack of all trades.  Born in Kansas, the tinkerer’s interests in carpentry and mechanics were honed through interactions with close friends and family.  Eight years ago, Matt gathered the gumption to uproot, leave Kansas, and relocate to Portland, Oregon.  Currently, he runs a blog entitled Wood&Faulk and carries a line of his own craftsman goods.

What was inspiration behind Wood&Faulk?
It was based in everything that I learned growing up in Kansas.  The name comes from Woodrow and Faulkner, which are two streets on which I had previously lived.  I learned so much at that time working on house projects and building furniture and everything involved with having old houses.

How did you get started in leather craft?  What was the first piece you remember creating?
I’d tried some simple projects about 15 years ago, but the real spark for Wood&Faulk was the belt project.  I made a tiny run of belts in natural leather for people to wear-in and document how the process went.  After doing that, the requests kept coming in, so I started making belts for sale.

What brought you out to the Northwest and Portland from Kansas?
I was –and still am– just in awe of the climate, the forest and the landscape in Oregon.  It’s 1000 times different than Kansas.  I’m still shocked to see a mountain in the distance at any time here.

Where do you find inspiration?
Music, being outside, reading, taking naps… Just about anywhere.

Are you an outdoorsman?  What do you do and where do you go?
I’d call myself a recreational outdoorsman.  I have a canoe that I love to take out, love to camp and hike, but I never get super crazy about the weight of gear or the high-tech aspects.  It’s more about getting out and relaxing.  If it’s cold or rainy, I’ll hike in my Filson Tin Cruiser.

What’s your biggest project right now, and what’s involved?
Outside of work, it’s remodeling my torn up kitchen.  I hope to post more about that on the blog soon, but I’m deciding how much I want to tear out.  Maybe I’m trying to not think about that…

What is your biggest weakness? And biggest strength?
Biggest weakness has typically been taking on too many projects and not saying ‘no.’  I’ve gotten a lot better, mainly out of necessity now that the business is getting more hectic.  Biggest strength is figuring out how things work, although that usually involves buying more tools, so maybe it’s a weakness?

What is one thing you’d love to learn to do?
I just bought a recurve bow and I’d love to get better at my aim!

What artists do you look up to?
Charles and Ray Eames, Ralph Lauren, Keith Richards, Ai Weiwei.

What’s the best piece of advice you have received?
My Dad taught me how to shake hands properly and tell direction, if that’s considered advice.

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.

 

While fly fishing on one of the West’s most famous steelhead streams, outdoor enthusiast Judith O’Keefe is reminded what makes this particular pastime so special.

Photos courtesy of Kelly James.

This past October, a group of eight anglers met at a cozy lodge in the Blue Mountains of Southeast Washington, just outside the tiny town of Anatone.  Besides wheat production, Anatone – named after a native Nez Perce woman – is not really on anybody’s radar screen, with one exception, those interested in fishing for steelhead. This town sits perched on the banks of one of the most famous steelhead streams in the Northwest, the Grande Ronde River.

This annual gathering meant that the usual cast of characters would come together with high hopes for a few excitement filled days of fly fishing for steelhead.   Those of you familiar with the sport know that one or two fish landed a day is considered good fishing.  Often, an angler can swing flies for days and never touch a fish.  There are many reasons that account for such fishless days.  It could be a lack of fish in the river, river conditions or simply operator error.  And then there’s the luck factor.  In my view, all fly fishing success is part skill and part luck.   With steelhead, you clearly want Lady Luck on your side.

I’ve put in my share of time on the water, and I know how it goes.  Identify the run – wade, cast, wade, cast, wade, cast, and if the fish are there and the fish gods are smiling, you might be in for one of the greatest experiences life has to offer, via a fly rod.  So with great expectations, the eight of us, divided into four drift boats, set out early each morning.  Our guides were exceptional, our equipment was top of line and our favorite flies were all neatly arranged in our boxes.   A couple of the anglers even had some exceptionally smooth single-malt in their flasks and suggested they would be willing to share when we all met together mid-afternoon.  Success guaranteed, right?   Now remember, we’re talking steelhead.  In three days, there was just one fish landed, and the credit goes to the most tenacious of the group, Harry.  It was a beautiful hen and boy was Harry proud, happy, and satisfied; as he had every right to be.   Harry had worked hard for that fish . . . wade, cast, wade, cast, wade, cast.

Now you’d think I would have driven away from that river feeling disappointed, even unlucky. On the contrary, this trip will go down as a favorite, and not because I caught or didn’t catch a fish.  On that beautiful fall day, as I drove along the back roads towards home I understood why this trip was so special.   Some anglers fish because they enjoy the solitude; me, I like the camaraderie and shared passion found in a group of friends “on a mission.”  Second, the scenery was extraordinary.  And last but not least, I knew once again, the joy and peace found in the simple act of immersing oneself in a river and casting a fly rod.

Perhaps if I’d caught a fish or two, my trip would have been over shadowed by the victory.   Bragging rights demand that the story must be relived – again, and again; the cast, the hook-up, the jump, that long downstream run and how in the end, I so skillfully landed that beauty.  Oh, and the “hero shot” to be emailed out to all those interested and some who are not.  Amazingly, I avoided all of that hullabaloo and as a result, gained a greater appreciation for nature and friendship.  And the burning question is: If given the chance, would I trade places with Harry?  I’ll let you ponder that one for yourself.