So, there I was… tents flying by, teenagers shouting and a rattlesnake carcass bleeding into the dust. This wasn’t how I imagined my first few days at Trout Unlimited Expeditions would go, but it set the tone for a week that would challenge, inspire and ultimately transform me.
When I first laid eyes on Green River, Wyoming, I thought I’d stepped into a barren wasteland. The landscape was dotted with weird shrubs, and the mountains looked decidedly… dead. But as the days passed, something unexpected happened. The place began to grow on me, revealing its hidden beauty in subtle ways I never anticipated.
Each morning, I’d wake to the fragrant aroma of sage, its earthy scent carried on the cool dawn breeze. As the sun dipped below the horizon each evening, those “dead” mountains came alive, painted in breathtaking hues of orange and purple. I learned an important lesson: beauty isn’t always obvious. Sometimes, you must look a little closer, be a little patient and open your heart to the unexpected.
Getting to work
Our first few days were filled with conservation work and fly fishing. One of our first projects involved building beaver dam analogs (BDAs). These tiny dams, strategically placed throughout the river, help raise water levels and create habitat for fish. It was cold, muddy work, but as we wove willow branches into a wall and stuffed the cracks with juniper, I felt a growing sense of pride. This seemingly small act could make a real difference in the lives of countless aquatic creatures.
The experience taught me that you don’t need to tackle massive projects to have an impact. Sometimes, it’s the accumulation of small, thoughtful actions that truly change the world. As we worked, I couldn’t help but draw parallels to my own life. How many times had I overlooked small opportunities to make a difference, thinking they weren’t “big” enough to matter?
Learning and teaching
Fly fishing itself proved to be both a challenge and a joy. There were moments when I stood in the river, completely clueless about what to do next. But the beauty of this expedition was the sense of community it fostered. Other kids and instructors were always ready to lend a hand, sharing tips, flies and encouragement. It reminded me that it’s okay not to have all the answers–– sometimes, the greatest growth comes from admitting what you don’t know and being open to learning from others.
One of the most surprising aspects of the trip was our role in educating younger children about conservation and fly fishing. I never imagined I’d be the one teaching, but there I was, surrounded by wide-eyed kids eager to learn about macroinvertebrates. My search history became a parade of bug species as I struggled to keep up with their insatiable curiosity.
There was a moment when a young boy exclaimed in wonder over a water penny, marveling at its alien-like appearance. I caught the eye of one of the older kids, and we shared a knowing smile. In that instant, I realized the power of passing on knowledge and igniting passion in others. It wasn’t just about the facts we were sharing; it was about nurturing a sense of wonder and responsibility for the natural world.
Of course, not every moment was picture-perfect. The trash cleanup day was, to put it bluntly, hot, dusty and kind of gross. We found everything from diapers to underwear (I’ll spare you the details), and by the end of the day, I was covered in a fine layer of grime that seemed to have seeped into my every pore. But as we surveyed the piles of junk we’d removed from the river, a sense of accomplishment washed over me. It was tangible proof that our efforts mattered.
Unexpected beauty in challenge
This expedition pushed me out of my comfort zone in ways I never expected. It was my first overnight camp, and at times, the challenges seemed overwhelming. But with each obstacle overcome––whether it was learning a new fishing technique or simply surviving a night in a tent––I felt myself growing stronger and more confident.
As I reflect on this adventure, I’m struck by how much I changed in just one week. I learned that even as a kid, I have the power to make a difference. Whether it’s explaining what a macroinvertebrate is to a curious child or helping to raise the water level of a stream, every action counts.
The Trout Unlimited Expedition wasn’t just about fishing or conservation––it was a journey of self-discovery. It taught me to look beyond first impressions, to find beauty in unexpected places, and to never underestimate the impact of small actions. As I return home, I carry with me new skills, knowledge and a deeper appreciation for our natural world and my role in protecting it.
The next time I’m faced with a challenge that seems as daunting as camping in a windstorm, I’ll remember the lessons of the TU Expedition. I’ll take a deep breath, smell the sage and remind myself that with patience, perseverance and a little help from my friends, I can overcome anything. And who knows? Maybe I’ll even find some unexpected beauty along the way.