“In the stillness of a riverbend or the hush of pine shadows on a mountain trail, I find something that feels closer to truth than anything I’ve found in the noise of daily life.”
Introduction: Where Silence Begins
There’s something sacred about the sound of your boots crunching on a trail before sunrise. When the only other noise is the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of water, that’s where solitude begins. It’s not about loneliness—it’s about space. Space to think. Space to breathe. Space to reconnect.
For me, that space has always been filled with two things: a fly rod in one hand, and a camera slung over my shoulder.
The Pull of the Wild
Fishing isn’t just a sport—it’s a rhythm. It slows life down. The act of watching a mayfly drift, of reading currents and shadows, and feeling the tension in a line before a strike—it pulls you into the present like few things can.
Photography is the same. It demands patience. Observation. The willingness to wait for light to break just right through canyon walls or for the breeze to settle before clicking the shutter.
In wild places, these two crafts merge. The fly rod casts for trout, the lens captures the light—and together, they etch a memory into your soul.
Solitude Isn’t Escaping—It’s Returning
People often think solitude is running from the world. But the truth is, it’s returning to what matters. Out there—along the banks of a freestone river or deep in a Texas marsh—you’re not bombarded by alerts, deadlines, or expectations. You’re just being.
Fishing forces you to observe. To learn. To fail, and try again. The same goes for photography. It teaches you to see what you missed the first time. And in both, you learn that success is quiet. It’s not always the fish caught or the perfect photo. Sometimes it’s just that you were there.
Why I Keep Coming Back
I’ve fished from the saltgrass flats of Galveston to alpine streams in New Mexico, camera packed tight beside my reels. I’ve camped beside waters that sang me to sleep, and hiked miles before dawn to reach a pool that might hold a single rising trout.
I do it for the adventure.
I do it for the peace.
But mostly—I do it to remember who I am when everything else is stripped away.
The wild has a way of revealing truths. It’s where I go to reset, to listen, and to create. And every photo I take or fish I release is a thank-you note to the land that gave me the quiet I needed.
What You Can Take With You
If you’re someone who’s felt overwhelmed by the buzz of modern life, I’d encourage you to pick up a fly rod, a camera, or even just a journal—and go.
Find a river. Hike a trail. Camp in the backcountry. Wake before the sun. Cast badly. Take blurry shots. But stay out there long enough to feel the noise fade.
Because once you do—you’ll understand this:
Solitude isn’t empty. It’s full of the things that truly matter.
Gear I Bring for Solitude
Fly Rod Setup: Sage Spectrum C reel, 4–6 wt rods depending on the water
Camera: Canon R5 + Sigma Art & Canon L-Series lenses
Tripod: K&F Concept carbon tripod
Filters: K&F ND filters for long exposures on streams
Editing Workflow: Lightroom Mobile on iPad Pro during the trip, stacked images for depth
Final Thoughts: The Quiet Places Need Our Voice
Solitude may be personal—but it’s also endangered. As more wild places shrink under development and public land access is threatened, we have a responsibility to protect what heals us.
I encourage you to support conservation efforts, educate others, and share your own moments in the wild. Whether through words, photos, or quiet action—remind others why these places matter.
Because if we lose them, we don’t just lose fish or trails—we lose a part of ourselves.
After months of planning and a long drive through winding forest roads, I finally pulled into Beavers Bend State Park and set up camp along the Lower Mountain Fork River. The spring air was crisp, the dogwoods were just starting to bloom, and the sound of moving water echoed through the pines. It didn’t take long to shake off the road and get a line in the water.
That first evening, with the light starting to soften and the river glowing gold, I managed to connect with a few hungry rainbows. They weren’t picky—small nymphs drifted through the seams did the trick. The bites came steady enough to remind me why I love this place.
After a quick dinner by the fire, I settled into camp under a canopy of stars, the rhythmic hoots of owls echoing through the trees.
The next morning, I woke up early to fish the cooler temps. The water was still moving clear and strong, and once again the rainbows were willing. I caught several before the sky started turning gray and rumbles of thunder rolled over the treetops. I packed up just before the rain let loose. Back at camp, I waited it out with some lunch and watched the storm wash the dust off the forest.
By late afternoon, the weather broke just enough to slip back onto the water. The air was cool and damp, and the fish were active again. There’s something about fishing after a storm—the river feels fresh, the light is moody, and the fish seem to know it.
The next day I decided to stretch my legs and hike deeper into the park. The trail twisted along the river, past waterfalls trickling over mossy rocks and wildflowers blooming in hidden pockets of sunlight. With my fly rod strapped to my pack and my camera swinging from my shoulder, I made slow, intentional progress—fishing the deeper pools and riffles along the way. The reward? A mix of feisty smallmouth bass and more rainbows, all tucked away in less-pressured water.
Waterfalls I found hiking to the river
Between casts, I couldn’t help but take in the scenery. Spring in Broken Bow is something special—lush greens, sparkling creeks, waterfalls hidden in the woods, and skies that seem to shift with every hour.
I stopped often to shoot photos of blooming wildflowers, dripping foliage, and scenic overlooks. The light was perfect for moody forest shots and those soft, misty river images I love capturing.
Over the next several days, the fishing held strong. Morning and evening were best, especially with dry-dropper rigs and small streamers. Each night brought its own rhythm—raccoons rustling around camp looking for snacks, barred owls calling across the river, and the gentle hum of the forest settling in for the night. It was peaceful, wild, and exactly the kind of escape I was hoping for.
This trip to Broken Bow was a perfect blend of fly fishing, photography, and soaking in spring’s return. The combination of eager trout, backcountry hikes, and unexpected encounters—both wildlife and weather—made it one for the books. If you’re thinking about chasing fish and quiet in southeast Oklahoma, spring is a great time to go.
After a few peaceful days of fly fishing in the cool, clear waters of Beavers Bend State Park, I’m back home on the Texas coast. The trip was a perfect spring escape—misty mornings on the Lower Mountain Fork River, sight-casting to rising trout, and evenings by the fire with the sound of the river nearby. It’s hard to beat the mountain air and those deep pools filled with willing browns and rainbows.
But as great as the Oklahoma waters were, there’s nothing quite like home. The salt air, the sound of mullet flipping in the back marsh, and that first tailing redfish on a still morning—it all draws me right back in. With water temperatures rising and tides shifting into summer patterns, it’s time to return to chasing reds, speckled trout, and maybe even a few flounder on the fly.
I’ll be back out on the Galveston flats this week, rod in hand and camera packed, ready for what the tides bring in. Stay tuned for some coastal fly action—there’s plenty more coming.
Stay tuned for the full blog on Beavers Bend trip!
High in the mountains of New Mexico, I found a glowing grove of quaking aspens just as the sun broke through the canopy. There’s something about these trees — tall, slender, golden-skinned — that draws you in. I came prepared with my Canon 90D, Canon L-series lenses, a K&F Concept tripod, and even my iPhone, knowing this scene was too good to miss from any angle.
Canon 90D + L Series Glass: Sharpness Meets Versatility
For wide environmental shots, I relied on the Canon 24–70mm f/2.8L, but for more intimate details — like clusters of bark, layered trunks, or isolating one tree against the backdrop — I used my Canon 70–200mm f/2.8L. This lens gave me the compression and clarity I needed to highlight subtle textures and pull distant trees forward with depth.
Shot Breakdown:
• Camera: Canon 90D
• Lenses: 24–70mm f/2.8L and 70–200mm f/2.8L
• ISO: 100
• Aperture: f/10 for wide shots, f/2.8–f/5.6 for close-ups
• Tripod: K&F Concept Carbon Fiber
• Filter: K&F CPL
Using the 70–200mm for Detail and Compression
Aspens are photogenic both up close and from a distance. With the 70–200mm, I framed tighter compositions — trunks in golden light, black knots in the bark, and sunlit patches on the forest floor. The telephoto compression made the grove look more layered and dense, almost like a wall of trees — which added a cinematic quality to some shots.
Pro Tip: Use the 70–200mm at 135mm–200mm to compress the forest and fill the frame with repeated lines and patterns — it’s ideal for making the grove feel deeper and more immersive.
iPhone Photography: Don’t Underestimate Your Pocket Camera
While the DSLR gear handled most of the heavy lifting, I also snapped a few frames with my iPhone 15 pro. With smart HDR and excellent native contrast, it delivered surprisingly strong results — especially with the wide and ultra-wide lenses.
Tips:
• Use portrait mode for foreground subjects like logs or leaves.
• Tap to meter on the trunk or shadowed mid-tones.
• If available, shoot in RAW with the Halide or Lightroom Mobile app for better editing flexibility.
Composition in the Grove: Light, Lines, and Layers
I timed the main shot so the sun peeked just over the tree line, creating a soft sunburst effect without washing out the scene. A fallen log led into the grove, creating a visual path that made the image feel more three-dimensional.
With the 70–200mm, I also isolated “portraits” of individual trees and detail shots of light hitting the bark. These close-ups tell a different story — quieter, more focused.
Editing in Lightroom: Preserving Natural Mood
For Canon RAW files:
• Boosted midtone contrast with the tone curve.
• Desaturated greens slightly for a more natural forest feel.
• Lifted shadows to expose bark detail.
• Used radial filters to add subtle spotlighting where the sun naturally fell.
Before and after
For iPhone shots:
• Adjusted highlights and whites to bring back sky detail.
• Used Lightroom Mobile’s “Texture” slider to enhance bark detail.
• Applied slight vignette to draw the eye inward.
Why Aspen Trees Are a Photographer’s Dream
Aspens offer built-in symmetry, light diffusion, and contrast. The bark’s pale tones pop in shadowy groves, while the leaves filter sunlight with a soft glow. In New Mexico’s higher elevations, these trees are often found in wide open clearings — perfect for both drone and ground photography. What makes them even more special is their shared root system, meaning this forest is often one living organism — a fact that adds a bit of wonder every time I step into a grove.
Closing Thoughts: Slow Down, Look Closer
Photographing aspens is a study in rhythm and reflection. Whether you’re standing back with a 24mm or zooming in at 200mm, these trees offer something ethereal. And whether you’re carrying a full kit or just your phone, the forest rewards those who pause, observe, and frame with care.
Exploring the backcountry through fly fishing, photography, hiking, and travel, I seek out remote rivers, hidden trails, and wild landscapes — capturing each adventure through the lens and the line. Whether chasing trout in alpine streams or hiking rugged terrain to untouched waters, every journey is a blend of exploration, creativity, and connection with nature.
When is the last time you took a risk? How did it work out?
The last real risk I took wasn’t about money, career, or anything you could measure in numbers. It was a gamble on a hunch, a blue line on a topo map and a feeling that maybe—just maybe—that little remote stream tucked into the backcountry might be worth it.
It wasn’t easy to get to. No real trail, just a vague path of game trails and overgrown brush, with a few miles of elevation gain thrown in for fun. I packed light, but still had my fly gear, camera, tripod, and just enough food and water to make it through a long day (and maybe a rough night, if needed). I didn’t know if the stream would even hold fish—or be accessible for good photos—but I was all in.
What I found was better than expected.
The stream wound through a quiet alpine meadow, untouched and crystal clear, bordered by wildflowers and soft light that made the whole place glow. Brook trout darted in and out of the current, and cutthroat rose to dry flies like they hadn’t seen a human in years—maybe they hadn’t. I got some of my favorite shots of the entire trip that day. Reflections, action shots, and one perfect capture of a brookie suspended mid-release, framed by golden hour light.
That little risk—trusting the map, the instinct, and being willing to explore—paid off big. Not just in fish caught or photos taken, but in the feeling of discovering something wild and real. Those are the risks I live for.
After a long, demanding day, I find peace in the simplest moments—flipping through a good book, hiking a quiet trail, casting a fly into a still pool, or just watching the light shift through the trees. Whether it’s photography that helps me slow down and focus on the little details, or a walk through the woods to reset my perspective, nature is my go-to reset button. These moments remind me to breathe deeper, move slower, and live more intentionally.
Some rivers don’t give up their secrets easily. The Pine River, also known as Los Pinos, is one of them. Tucked deep in the Weminuche Wilderness of Southwest Colorado, it requires effort, patience, and a willingness to hike into solitude. But if you’re after wild trout in clear mountain water—and the kind of light that makes your photos glow—there are few places more rewarding.
The Trailhead to Solitude
The journey starts at the Pine River Trailhead near Vallecito Reservoir. It’s a dusty parking lot, a worn wooden sign, and a reminder that you’re on the edge of something vast—the largest wilderness area in Colorado.
The trail runs along private land for the first few miles, so fishing and camping are off limits early on. But once you cross into the national forest boundary, the river opens up, wild and remote. The elevation gain is steady but forgiving, and the views just keep getting better. Towering peaks peek through pines, and wildflowers bloom along the trail like a postcard from July.
With my Canon R5, K&F Concept backpack, and 5wt rod, I hit the trail just after sunrise. The air was crisp, golden light filtered through the lodgepoles, and the river sparkled below.
Early Light and River Mist
I stopped just past the wilderness boundary where the river flattened into a lazy bend. The mist rose off the water like breath, and I dropped my pack to capture the moment. Using my 70–200mm lens, I focused on the layers—backlit pine branches, the soft swirl of fog, and the glint of sun hitting the waterline.
For long exposures, I mounted my tripod, dialed in a low ISO, and let the shutter run. These are the kinds of images I live for—where the emotion of the place shines through the frame.
Setting Up the Rig
The Pine River demands versatility. I rigged up a dry-dropper setup: a #14 Parachute Adams up top and a #16 Hare’s Ear Nymph trailing below. These fish are educated and spooky, especially in slow pools. I used long, fine tippet and cast from behind boulders, keeping my shadow off the water.
The first fish came from a seam near a fallen log—a small but healthy brown. I paused to photograph the catch, using my hand and net for scale, carefully positioning the fish with the sun behind me to avoid harsh glare. A few quick shots, then back in the water.
Fishing and Shooting in Rhythm
Backcountry fly fishing is about finding rhythm—between casts, between hikes, between light and shadow. I alternated between fishing pocket water and photographing the surroundings. A high ridge caught my eye, so I swapped out lenses and shot wide to capture the dramatic sweep of the river carving its way through the forested canyon.
I kept my camera settings flexible, using aperture priority mode to adapt quickly between moving trout and landscape shots. My K&F Concept backpack made transitions easy, with side access panels for grabbing a lens mid-hike or stashing a fly box fast.
Wild Trout and Wild Moments
The further I hiked, the wilder the water became. Cutthroat started showing up—small, brilliantly colored, and lightning quick. I switched flies to a #12 Yellow Humpy with a CDC midge dropper, and it paid off. Several fish rose in tight, riffled corners that required tricky casts and precise drifts.
I kneeled in cold, mossy shallows, capturing tight macro shots of wildflowers along the riverbanks—bluebells, Indian paintbrush, and buttercups reflected in the water’s surface. These images tell just as much of the story as the fish themselves.
Storms and Staying Safe
Mid-afternoon, the familiar rumble of thunder rolled through the canyon. I packed up fast, knowing that weather in the high country turns fast. The trail turned slick, and I was glad I had lightweight rain gear and a waterproof pack.
Back at camp, I dried off and reviewed photos on my iPad Pro, backed up my files, and journaled the day. A deep sense of satisfaction settled in—the kind you only get after chasing trout and light deep into the wilderness.
• Fishing Tip: Approach low, cast upstream, and let your dry fly lead the way
This stretch of the Pine River is what I chase—trout in untouched waters, scenes only your boots can reach, and photos you can’t take from the side of the road.
Up Next: Part 4 – Animas Mornings: Big Water and Bigger Scenes
New Mexico, often celebrated for its stunning desert landscapes and rich cultural heritage, is also a hidden gem for fly fishing enthusiasts. The state’s diverse geography offers a unique blend of fishing experiences, from high-mountain lakes to flowing rivers nestled in canyons. Whether you’re a seasoned angler or a beginner looking to explore new waters, New Mexico has something to offer. In this blog, we’ll take a look at some of the top fly fishing destinations across the state and share valuable tips to help you make the most of your time on the water. So grab your rod, pack your flies, and get ready to cast your line in the Land of Enchantment.
1. The Rio Grande
Rio Grande Gorge
The Rio Grande River flows through some of the most scenic parts of New Mexico, offering great opportunities for fly anglers. This river is home to native Rio Grande cutthroat trout, as well as brown and rainbow trout. It’s ideal for both beginner and experienced fly fishers, with sections that are perfect for dry fly fishing and nymphing.
Best Fishing Seasons:
• Spring & Fall: These are the prime times for fishing the Rio Grande, with trout being more active in cooler temperatures.
Fly Patterns & Techniques:
• Dry Flies: Rio Grande cutthroats are often attracted to dry flies. Use patterns like Parachute Adams, Elk Hair Caddis, or a smaller, light-colored Stimulator.
• Nymphs: For deeper holes, go with nymph patterns such as Pheasant Tails, Zebra Midges, or a San Juan Worm.
• Techniques: When nymphing, focus on pockets near rocks or deeper runs. Dry fly fishing is best during hatch periods, so watch for rising fish and match your fly to the hatch.
2. The San Juan River
Known for its world-class tailwater fishing, the San Juan River is one of New Mexico’s premier destinations for anglers. Flowing below Navajo Dam, the river is rich with trophy-sized rainbow and brown trout. The clear waters and consistent flows make it a favorite among fly fishers.
Best Fishing Seasons:
• Winter & Spring: The San Juan is a year-round fishery, but the best time to catch big fish is in the colder months when the fish are more concentrated.
Fly Patterns & Techniques:
• Nymphs: Patterns like the Zebra Midge, Hare’s Ear, and Egg Patterns are effective in the deeper runs of the San Juan.
Hare’s Ear
• Dry Flies: The San Juan also offers hatch periods with mayflies and caddisflies. Patterns like the Blue-Winged Olive, Griffith’s Gnat, and PMDs are great for dry fly action.
• Techniques: Focus on dead drifting your nymphs along the riverbed, especially in the deeper, slower-moving sections. During hatches, look for fish rising and cast your dry flies to them.
3. Chama River
The Chama River offers both challenging and rewarding fly fishing. Located in northern New Mexico, this river runs through the Chama Valley, where anglers can find wild brown trout, rainbow trout, and cutthroats. The river is divided into sections that are suited to different fishing techniques.
Best Fishing Seasons:
• Spring & Fall: These seasons offer good fishing conditions as the water is cool and the fish are active.
Fly Patterns & Techniques:
• Streamers: Large streamers like Woolly Buggers, Clouser Minnows, and Sculpin patterns are great for targeting larger trout.
• Nymphs: Go with patterns like Copper Johns or Prince Nymphs to target fish feeding on the bottom.
• Dry Flies: Use smaller patterns like Elk Hair Caddis or Griffith’s Gnat when fish are rising to the surface.
• Techniques: When using streamers, focus on casting across the current and stripping them back. For nymphing, look for the deeper holes and fish your nymphs near the bottom.
4. Pecos River
The Pecos River, located in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, is a pristine spot for fly fishing. The river has crystal-clear waters and is filled with brown trout, rainbow trout, and the occasional brook trout. It’s a great place to hike to, with a wilderness feel and little development.
Best Fishing Seasons:
• Summer & Fall: During these seasons, the Pecos River is perfect for fishing due to warmer water and increased fish activity.
Fly Patterns & Techniques:
• Dry Flies: The Pecos is ideal for dry fly fishing. Patterns like the Elk Hair Caddis, Adams, and Parachute Adams work great during hatches.
• Nymphs: Patterns like Hare’s Ear, Pheasant Tail, and Zebra Midges are ideal for the deeper runs.
• Techniques: Dry fly fishing is most productive during hatch periods when fish are actively feeding on insects. For nymphing, try the classic upstream drift technique, especially in slower sections.
5. High Country Lakes and Streams
For those seeking more solitude and high-altitude adventure, New Mexico’s high-mountain lakes and streams offer great fly fishing. Places like Santa Fe National Forest and Wheeler Peak Wilderness Area boast pristine alpine waters, teeming with native cutthroat and rainbow trout.
Best Fishing Seasons:
• Summer: High-altitude lakes are accessible during the warmer months and offer a peaceful, scenic fishing experience.
Fly Patterns & Techniques:
• Dry Flies: Small patterns like Parachute Adams, Griffith’s Gnat, and small attractors like the Royal Wulff are effective in alpine lakes.
• Streamers: Woolly Buggers, Matuka, and Zonkers are good options for larger trout in the deeper parts of these lakes.
Olive streamer size 10 3xl
• Techniques: Cast near the shorelines and retrieve streamers slowly through the deeper areas. For dry fly fishing, look for rising fish and match the hatch.
Essential Gear for Your Fly Fishing Trip to New Mexico
To ensure your fly fishing adventure in New Mexico is a success, packing the right gear is crucial. Here’s a list of essentials for your trip:
• Fly Rod: A 4- to 6-weight rod is versatile for most New Mexico waters. If fishing in high-altitude lakes, a lighter rod (3 to 5 weight) is ideal for smaller fish, while a 5- to 6-weight rod is great for larger rivers like the Rio Grande and San Juan.
Fly rod and reel
• Fly Reel: A quality reel with a smooth drag system is key, especially for larger trout. Make sure the reel is matched to your rod and has a good line capacity.
• Fly Fishing Line: Weight-forward floating lines are ideal for most situations, especially in rivers and lakes. For deeper nymphing, a sink-tip line or full sinking line may be needed for some sections.
• Leader and Tippet: 9 to 12-foot leaders are typical, with 5X to 6X tippet being common for clear water and smaller fish. For larger fish, go with 4X or 3X.
• Flies: Carry a variety of dry flies, nymphs, and streamers. Some of the top patterns for New Mexico include:
• Dry Flies: Parachute Adams, Elk Hair Caddis, Stimulator, and Royal Wulff.
• Streamers: Woolly Bugger, Clouser Minnow, Zonker, and Matuka.
• Fly Box: A durable, waterproof fly box to keep your flies organized and safe.
• Waders: For rivers, especially in the spring and fall, a good pair of breathable or neoprene waders is essential. Don’t forget wading boots with felt or rubber soles for traction.
• Casting Tools: Don’t forget a high-quality fly fishing net, nippers, forceps, and a fly tying kit if you want to customize your flies on the go.
• Sun Protection: A wide-brimmed hat, polarized sunglasses, and sunscreen are essential for fishing in New Mexico’s sunny climate.
• Backpack: A small, durable backpack will help carry all your gear, snacks, and water, especially if you’re venturing into remote areas.
Tips for Fly Fishing in New Mexico:
• Respect the Regulations: New Mexico has various fishing regulations, including specific season dates and restricted areas. Always check the latest regulations from the New Mexico Department of Game and Fish before heading out.
Special Trout Waters (Catch and Release)
Many rivers and streams in New Mexico have areas designated as “special trout waters,” where only catch-and-release fishing is allowed. In these areas:
• No fish may be kept – all trout must be released back into the water immediately.
• Artificial flies and lures only – in some areas, only flies or lures may be used, and live bait is prohibited.
• Barbless hooks – some waters may require barbless hooks to reduce injury to fish during release.
• Altitude Matters: Many of New Mexico’s best fishing locations are in high-altitude areas. Be prepared for the thinner air, especially if you’re planning on fishing in the mountains.
• Watch for Hatch Times: New Mexico has some great hatch opportunities, but they vary by location. Know the types of hatches that occur in your fishing spot to choose the right fly patterns.
• Stay Safe in Remote Areas: Many of New Mexico’s best fishing spots are in remote areas. Always carry enough water, a first-aid kit, and a map or GPS device.
Conclusion:
Fly fishing in New Mexico offers a wide variety of landscapes, fish species, and fishing techniques. Whether you’re seeking a quiet mountain stream, a big river, or a remote lake, there’s a spot for you. The state’s unique waters, coupled with the opportunity to catch wild and native trout, make it a must-visit destination for any fly fishing enthusiast. So grab your rod, pack your flies, and head to the Land of Enchantment for an unforgettable fishing adventure.
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There’s something about being out in nature that awakens the creative side of me. Whether I’m fishing in the still waters of a misty morning or hiking through rugged mountain trails, my Canon R5 is always by my side, ready to capture the beauty that unfolds around me. Photography, much like fishing, is a pursuit of patience and precision—waiting for the right moment, the perfect light, and the ideal composition to bring a scene to life.
The Art of Seeing While Fishing
Fishing has always been about more than just the catch for me. It’s about the experience—the rhythm of the water, the way the sky shifts in color as the day progresses, and the subtle interactions of nature happening all around. When I’m on the water, I’m not just scanning for signs of fish; I’m searching for those fleeting, beautiful moments that make fishing such an immersive experience.
The golden hour, when the first light of dawn touches the water or when the sun dips low in the evening, offers some of the most magical photography opportunities. The reflections on the water, the soft hues blending across the horizon, the silhouette of a wading bird patiently stalking its prey—all of these moments tell a story. I often find myself pausing mid-cast just to take it all in, knowing that sometimes the most rewarding part of the trip isn’t reeling in a fish but capturing the essence of the moment through my lens.
The challenge of photographing on the water lies in movement—both mine and my surroundings. Kayak fishing, in particular, adds an extra layer of difficulty. The water shifts, the wind pushes, and my subject rarely stays still. But that’s part of the excitement. It forces me to be deliberate in my composition, to anticipate the perfect frame before I even lift my camera. The Canon R5’s fast autofocus and incredible dynamic range allow me to capture fine details, from the scales of a freshly caught redfish glistening in the sun to the intricate ripples left behind by a leaping mullet.
Beyond the technical aspects, photography while fishing is a way of documenting the journey. It’s about freezing those perfect, untamed moments—like the way the early morning mist clings to the water’s surface or how a storm front builds over the horizon, creating a dramatic contrast against the calm bay. These are the images that bring back the feeling of the trip long after I’ve left the water.
Finding Beauty in the Mountains
When I’m not on the water, I often find myself drawn to the mountains. Hiking is an entirely different experience, but one that feeds my love for both adventure and photography. Unlike fishing, where I’m often stationary for long stretches, hiking presents an ever-changing landscape, each bend in the trail revealing new opportunities to frame a shot.
The mountains have a way of humbling you. Standing at the base of a towering peak or gazing out over a valley stretching endlessly into the horizon, you realize how small you are in comparison to the vastness of nature. Capturing that feeling in a photograph is both a challenge and a joy. Composition plays a crucial role—finding the right foreground elements to give a sense of depth, using leading lines to draw the eye toward a distant summit, or waiting for the clouds to break just enough to let a dramatic ray of light cascade down the slopes.
I love the contrast between grand landscapes and small details. While a panoramic shot of mountain ridges bathed in morning light can be breathtaking, sometimes it’s the little things that tell the most powerful stories—the gnarled roots of an ancient tree gripping the rocky soil, a single wildflower blooming defiantly at the edge of a cliff, or the way frost patterns form on a high-altitude lake at dawn. My Canon R5 excels at capturing both extremes, allowing me to shoot sweeping landscapes and intricate macro shots with equal clarity.
One of my favorite aspects of mountain photography is how the environment constantly changes. Weather in the mountains is unpredictable, and that unpredictability creates some of the most striking images. A sudden break in the clouds after a storm can flood the valley with golden light, turning an otherwise ordinary scene into something spectacular. The play of shadows as the sun moves across jagged peaks can create dramatic contrasts that make the landscape come alive. It’s all about being in the right place at the right time—another parallel between photography and fishing.
Blending Adventure with Artistry
What I love most about photography, whether on the water or in the mountains, is how it forces me to slow down and truly see the world around me. It’s easy to rush through a fishing trip focused only on the next cast or to hike with a mindset of simply reaching the summit. But photography encourages me to be present—to notice the light filtering through the trees, the patterns in the waves, the way nature composes itself in perfect harmony if you take the time to see it.
Fishing and hiking both offer a sense of escape, a break from the noise of everyday life. Photography allows me to take a piece of that escape with me, to relive those moments through images that hold not just the visuals, but the emotions of the experience. It’s about more than just snapping a picture; it’s about telling a story—one of adventure, of solitude, of the raw beauty that exists in the natural world.
With every trip, I come home with a collection of images, each one a reminder of where I’ve been and what I’ve seen. Some of them end up shared, printed, or framed, while others remain personal, tucked away as snapshots of my journey. But all of them serve the same purpose: they capture the moments that make being out in nature so meaningful. And as long as I have a fishing rod in one hand and my Canon R5 in the other, I know there will always be more moments waiting to be captured.
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