By Tracy Brown At Trout Unlimited, planting a tree is about so many things. Each spring and fall hundreds of TU volunteers plant trees along our favorite and most precious coldwater streams. It is about the trees. It is about the trout. And it is about engaging with the local community. This spring in New York alone over
Pat Byorth has long been an advocate for anglers in Montana and with his recent appointment to Montana’s Fish and Game Commission, he is continuing that tradition for the benefit of all Montanans. As a long-time TU employee, he has worked to restore some of our most iconic rivers such as the Madison and the
Trout Unlimited’s Driftless Area Restoration Effort is an incredible conservation success story, and one that is going as strong as ever. Highlights of the program are beautifully and succinctly captured in a new 16-page brochure produced by the program’s leaders. The brochure isn’t just a retrospective of the impact of the 15-year effort, but also
By Meghan Barker While I spend the majority of my work time in front of a “Save Bristol Bay” booth, or talking with supportive Trout Unlimited members and leaders about the proposed Pebble Mine, the first Monday in June brought a different start to my work week. I loaded up my car with a tote of
On Monday, June 17, nearly 50 sport-fishing and recreation businesses from the Bristol Bay region submitted a letter to members of Congress urging them to vote ‘yes’ on the House Energy and Water Appropriations bill amendment that would defund the Army Corps of Engineers’ review of Pebble’s key permit application. Click here to tell your
I’ve always been OK owning the title of that “fishing guy” pretty much everywhere I go because, after all, that’s who I am. Ever since my uncle introduced me to fishing, I haven’t had a second go by when I don’t think, speak or dream of fishing. For me, fishing is the glue that has
My life can be separated into two distinct parts: Life before I picked up a fly rod, and life after it. I began my fly fishing journey in the rolling hills of western Wisconsin, the place where I call home. It was the beginning of January and my hands were freezing cold; every moment I
