In The Arena: Ed Contreras

December 11, 2024

TRCP’s “In the Arena” series highlights the individual voices of hunters and anglers who, as Theodore Roosevelt so famously said, strive valiantly in the worthy cause of conservation.

Ed Contreras

Hometown: Sun Valley, California
Occupation: Southern Oregon-Northeastern California Conservation Delivery Coordinator
Conservation Credentials: Ed Contreras is a biologist, hunter, angler and occasionally a cowboy who takes inspiration from living in the West and his family’s humble roots of living close to the land in Mexico. He works for the Intermountain West Joint Venture, a public-private conservation organization that focuses on bird habitat. He resides in Klamath Falls Oregon.

Contreras’ conservation work involves developing conservation programs and projects to assist private landowners as they steward water and land for wildlife in southern Oregon and northeastern California. He excels in connecting private landowners with a cadre of tools and people from state and federal agencies, as well as non-profits, to help meet their conservation goals and keep agricultural operations intact. Relationship building is at the heart of Contreras’ work, and he is known for his ability to bring people together to achieve conservation successes.

Here is his story.

Contreras helps a neighbor rope calves for branding.

I did not grow up hunting, but I became obsessed with fishing in middle school and then fly fishing in high school. Fishing was a gateway for me, as it is for many adult-onset hunters, as it’s a less imposing activity for those new to hunting. My dad is from rural Mexico and hunting for subsistence was a part of his early life, but hunting for recreation within the framework employed by agencies to manage for sustainable populations was a foreign concept. The expense of hunting licenses, the myriad of rules, and living in urban southern California with no connections to other hunters, kept hunting out of my family. However, my dad’s stories of the adventure and chase of wild game in his youth instilled a passion in me for the outdoors. As a freshman at the University of Montana, I quickly made lifelong friends who grew up hunting, and I jumped into my hunting endeavors with both feet.

My early exposure to my family’s rural and small-scale agriculture and forestry-based community in Jalisco, Mexico, fueled an incongruous interest in agriculture. My father’s family had a small herd of cows for both beef and dairy products and my grandfather, father, and uncles worked as cowboys and herdsmen for neighboring ranches. My brief visits to Mexico and my father’s childhood tales of encounters with jaguars and horse and cow wrecks when “things got western” captured my interest in rural life. This was a stark contrast from my day-to-day in the inner city of the San Fernando Valley.

I eventually followed this trail and leveraged my limited experience but deep connection to my family’s agriculture legacy, into my first real job at 18 working for a wilderness outfitter in the Sierra Nevada’s of California. For the first summer, I was certainly the green kid from LA, but I sharpened my skills with long days in the mountains learning how to care and work with horses and mules and providing a safe and enjoyable wilderness experience for clients. Oddly enough, this job taught me just as much about working with people. After three summers, the summer gig cemented a childhood notion into a realization: that being outside and working with domestic stock and wildlife was something I could do for a paycheck and was exactly how I wanted to live my life.

Contreras and Ivy with a day’s bag of pheasant and sharptails.

Today, my wife and I have our own horses and pack mule. We take a summer horse pack trip with our friends into a different Wilderness every year and we volunteer to pack-in trail crews and clear local trails with the U.S. Forest Service. On the weekends, we help our rancher friends move, doctor, and brand cows; we enjoy improving our stockmanship skills, and it gives our horses jobs. A newer activity in my life has been hunting with bird dogs. My first dog, a German Wirehaired Pointer, is now four years old, and despite being a novice bird dog owner/trainer, she is progressing to becoming a very useful bird dog and always-ready hunting partner. I now can’t picture myself without a bird dog in the future.

My entry into a career in wildlife biology mirrors the other interests in my life. I combined many elements I care about to find the niche of private lands habitat conservation where I work closely with NGO’s, local watershed groups, and the Natural Resources Conservation Service.

When I started in this field 10 years ago, I served the role of a conservation project planner working with landowners to develop projects, execute funding agreements, and complete environmental compliance (like NEPA) required to implement habitat projects through Farm Bill programs like the Environmental Quality Incentives Program. Today, I do some conservation project planning, but I also inform program development, secure funding for habitat programs, and help boost conservation capacity by establishing new conservation positions to implement more projects on-the-ground. This has been especially critical since the signing of the Inflation Reduction Act in 2022, as the organization I work for has focused on helping make sure the pieces are in place to guide these funds into impactful projects. We do this by sharing new science and science tools with our partners to develop science-based habitat conservation strategies and monitor the ecological benefit of projects.

I hope other hunters can join me in learning about and appreciating the value private land, agriculture, and wonky government programs have for our ability to hunt and fish.

I’d be remiss not to highlight the importance of public lands for waterbird habitat in Southern Oregon and Northeastern California, including the National Wildlife Refuges protected by President Theodore Roosevelt in the Klamath Basin. Public wetlands that hunters and birders cherish have suffered due to their low priority in water allocations. However, their importance to the overall ecologic function of the Klamath Basin and Pacific Flyway have become more apparent during recent droughts.

Collaborative discussions between agencies, irrigators, and tribes are working towards innovative solutions to water on National Wildlife Refuges. Although irrigated agriculture also faces water security challenges, private lands often provide more stable wetland habitat in this region. Supporting Farm Bill programs that keep agricultural producers in business—and sustaining wetland habitat through flood irrigation practices—is key to sustaining waterfowl in the Pacific Flyway. Large federal funding packages like the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law and the Inflation Reduction Act can be hugely helpful in leveraging Farm Bill dollars to invest in projects that bolster wildlife habitat that hunters directly benefit from.

Contreras inspecting some cattail mowing in the Yakama Valley.

All of these programs can be made more successful by combining the local knowledge of landowners/managers and biologists with new spatial data tools like the Wetland Evaluation Tool, which shows where more resilient wetland habitat exists on the landscape, or the Working Wetlands Explorer, which shows where flood-irrigated grass hay practices are contributing to important wetland habitat. Strategic conservation planning using these tools better informs where American taxpayer dollars are spent on both private and public lands and ensures that we are protecting habitat that can provide the maximum benefit to wildlife.

My most memorable hunts in the Klamath Basin are spring goose hunts for white-fronted geese. The sound of air rushing against feather and the brassy-sounding calls in the center of a vortex of hundreds of speckle bellies is an awesome experience. The bag limit of white-fronted geese in this area is 10 birds and it fills a freezer with the best meat of any waterfowl species. Large flocks of white-fronted geese make intensive use of private lands in the spring, especially in short-grazed pastures and early spring-planted crops near water. For this reason, access for hunters can be a challenge but many landowners welcome hunting as a way to deter geese depredation of forage and grain crops.

I hope other hunters can join me in learning about and appreciating the value private land, agriculture, and wonky government programs have for our ability to hunt and fish. Water in the West is precious and there’s less and less of it to go around. That’s not going to change anytime soon so we should all try to work together to stretch every drop.

Photo credits: Ed Contreras

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by: Noah Davis

posted in: In the Arena

December 6, 2024

In the Arena: Alston Watt

TRCP’s “In the Arena” series highlights the individual voices of hunters and anglers who, as Theodore Roosevelt so famously said, strive valiantly in the worthy cause of conservation.

Alston Watt

Hometown: Thomasville, Georgia
Occupation: Director, Williams Family Foundation of Georgia
TRCP Role: Board of Directors member and Board Chair

Since her first, cold sit in a duck blind with her grandfather, Alston Watt has traveled across America experiencing the wild places our country has to offer. A lifetime in the outdoors has helped Watt form a strong conservation ethic that she hopes to pass on to her grandchildren.

Here is her story.

TRCP: Why did you step into the arena of conservation with TRCP? Why is it important for you to be involved in conservation?

Watt: The outdoors has always been my family’s “living room.”  I still remember my excitement and anticipation when I was FINALLY old enough to be invited to sit in a duck blind beside my grandfather.  Since that day, I’ve joined five generations of my family hunting and fishing across America.

My passion for conservation was truly ignited when I was able to take my sons hunting and fishing.  We spent our winters wing shooting in the South Georgia woods and our summer vacations discovering unique fisheries in all 50 states.   It was during those memorable times when I recognized that stewardship and preservation of the North American Model of Conservation is not a choice, but an imperative.  With its unique mission to guarantee all Americans quality places to hunt and fish through convening, aligning, and amplifying the voices of sportsmen and sportswomen, TRCP seems to be the best place to deploy my resources and talents to ensure my grandchildren can enjoy the outdoors in the same ways I have.

TRCP: In your own words, tell us about two TRCP initiatives, past or present, that are important to you. Why?

Watt: TRCP’s work to conserve the Bristol Bay fishery by stopping the development of the Pebble Mine has been a top issue for me. Bristol Bay is the leading source of wild sockeye salmon and one of the “last wild places.” My family has had the deep honor to go fishing there, but it’s not only a sportsman’s paradise, it’s an important source for subsistence fishing and eco-tourism for Alaska Natives.  Defending Bristol Bay from the catastrophic incursion of mining interests is in the nation’s interest.  It pleases me that TRCP helped align our partners to successfully safeguard Bristol Bay.

I am also proud of TRCP’s work on the Modernizing Access to our Public Lands Act (MAPLand Act), as it unlocks more opportunities for hunters and anglers to get outdoors to hunt and fish confidently.  Public land access is particularly important to the 80% of Americans that live in urban areas and have no access to private land.

Watt (right) admires her freshly caught native Alaskan rainbow.

TRCP: How were you introduced to hunting, fishing, and the outdoors? Who introduced you?

Watt: My grandfather introduced me to hunting.  I believe that the coldest I have ever been in my entire life was in his duck blind for the first time. But I was not about to complain—I just knew that I was part of something very special.

My husband introduced me to fishing on our honeymoon….and I was HOOKED.  Fishing can take you to some of the most beautiful and majestic places. If I only had one more opportunity to fish, I would spend the day on the Lower American in Kenai National Park, Alaska.  It truly is one of the most spectacular rivers in our country.

With its unique mission to guarantee all Americans quality places to hunt and fish through convening, aligning, and amplifying the voices of sportsmen and sportswomen, TRCP seems to be the best place to deploy my resources and talents to ensure my grandchildren can enjoy the outdoors in the same ways I have.

TRCP: Tell us about one of your most memorable outdoor adventures.

Watt: In almost 60 years of life, I had never shot a mammal. I’ve joined my son in the deer stand to watch him hunt, but I have never pulled the trigger.  That all changed last year when I was invited on an elk hunt in Colorado.  For three days we stalked the elk: hearing the mystical bugle, smelling their musk, and following their true majesty.  I was amazed how a herd could just disappear like smoke into the forest.  On the third day, just before dark, a bull came into my scope.  One shot and he was down.  I will never forget the awe, respect, and gratitude I felt for the elk, the opportunity, and the nourishment that elk is still providing for my family.

Watt (left) with her first big game animal: a Rocky Mountain elk.

TRCP: How does conservation help enhance your outdoor life?

Watt: Conservation ensures that land and game species are managed successfully into the future, which is important to me because I want my grandchildren and their grandchildren to enjoy the hunting and fishing experiences that I have been able to.  That’s why I’m proud to step into the arena with TRCP to ensure America’s legacy of habitat management and access is protected and advanced.

Photo credits: Alston Watt

by: Ryan Lockwood

posted in: In the Arena

November 20, 2024

In the Arena: Capt. Chris Dollar

TRCP’s “In the Arena” series highlights the individual voices of hunters and anglers who, as Theodore Roosevelt so famously said, strive valiantly in the worthy cause of conservation.

Chris Dollar

Hometown: Rappahannock River, VA
Occupation: Principal, CD Outdoors’ Communications; writer/editor/educator, conservationist, fishing guide, and owner/operator of TackleCove.com – a light tackle, fly fishing, and kayak outfitter.
Conservation credentials: Chesapeake Region Conservation Consultant and member of Government Relations Committee for Coastal Conservation Association; Conservation Director for Virginia Saltwater Sportfishing Association.

An all-purpose outdoors professional since 1994, think of Capt. “C” Dollar as the Swiss Army knife of the Chesapeake Bay’s sporting and conservation realm. He has three decades’ experience as an outdoors professional who has held a fishing guide license and a U.S. Coast Guard Master’s License since the 1990s. He is also an avid waterfowl hunter and amateur birder. He works with several conservation organizations and coalitions – including the Chesapeake Bay Foundation, Coastal Conservation Association, and TRCP. Originally formed in 1999, his CD Outdoors brand has morphed into a conservation communications consultancy focused on Bay fishery and habitat issues. (Dollar notes that CD Outdoors’ logo is of an osprey feeding menhaden to its chicks, taken from a photograph he took in the early 2000s, and in the past two years there are growing concerns that there may not be enough menhaden to feed some osprey chicks on some lower Bay tributaries due to industrial menhaden fishing.)

His columns cover important issues such as the impacts of the industrial-scale menhaden reduction fishery on recreational angling and the Bay’s habitat, wildlife, and water quality. Over the years, his columns have regularly appeared in the Baltimore Sun, Chesapeake Bay Magazine, PropTalk, and the Capital Gazette, the latter of which continues to run his weekly conservation column. He also pens a bi-weekly blog on TackleCove.com.

Here is his story.

Growing up on Chesapeake Bay, fishing and crabbing was just something we did as kids. It wasn’t until right after college that I took fishing more seriously, especially with regards to related conservation efforts, which are a necessary part of any outdoorsperson’s tool kit. My grandfather was a hunter, but he passed before I got a chance to know him, so I did not grow up in a hunting household. In 1996, my college lacrosse teammate and his father took me under their wing and introduced me to waterfowl hunting when I was in my mid-20s. I’ve been hooked ever since.

Like most folks who spend a lot of time out-of-doors, I have memorable adventures. One that stands out was when we were hunting the grass flats and marshes of Pocomoke Sound for wigeon, pintails, and gadwall. We’d had a very good hunt, but by midday the wind really picked up and it switched around and came at us from the northeast. The boat ramp was about 9 miles away and the cut-through in the marsh to the ramp was blown out – there was no water in it. So, we had to go into the teeth of the blow via Tangier Sound.

For those who are unfamiliar with the Bay, Tangier Sound is pretty big water with stretches of deep water and shoals. In a 20-foot open boat loaded with decoys, two grown men, and a Chesapeake Bay retriever, with wind chill temps close to the single digits, well, that was a bit of a white-knuckler.

Though I love hunting and angling on the Bay, I hope to someday go fishing for sea-run fish in Patagonia. It seems so wild and expansive. On the hunting side, it would be great to flush upland birds and call in waterfowl somewhere wild and remote, like the upper Midwest or remote Canada. What I’d really like to do, however, is time travel back to when canvasbacks blackened the Chesapeake skies and rafted together in thousands on the Susquehanna Flats.

Dramatic changes in the Bay have taken place over the past century. Once abundant fish and wildlife populations and vibrant habitats are diminished. Helping to protect and restore the Chesapeake is a huge reason why I am so involved in conservation, both for fisheries and birds. That said, we also need to understand that eating wild game and fish is important. That’s especially true for me, even if I’m not able to do it as much as I used to. Getting older ain’t for sissies.

“We need to value all forage fish – shads, river herrings, and menhaden – for what they mean to the entire ecosystem, and not just their dockside value.”

The top conservation priorities for the Chesapeake Bay include rebuilding habitat, conserving and protecting gamefish and forage fish (such as Atlantic menhaden and herring), and enhancing access to fisheries, especially for newcomers. Rebuilding the striper fishery, and maintaining the quality fisheries for red drum and cobia and other gamefish we have in the Bay, will not and cannot be done just through regulation of recreational or commercial fishing.

Rebuilding critical habitats – oyster reefs and seagrass beds – and improving water quality are also part of the solution, as are sensible and reasonable regulations for the large-scale industrialized reduction fishery for menhaden. Overall, we need to value all forage fish – shads, river herrings, and menhaden (bunker) – for what they mean to the entire ecosystem, and not just their dockside value. These are public resources, not commodities for a select few.

It is our moral obligation to not just protect and conserve what is left, but to enhance the natural capital remaining that we’ve been gifted. We are stewards of all waters, salt and fresh, and our marshes, woods, and mountains. Simple as that. None of it is ours. It belongs to the “now” as well as the future.

I have no understanding – or patience, frankly – of those who choose to recklessly use natural resources for short-term gains. It is anathema to me. It matters not if you’re a big-game hunter, a day hiker, or a casual angler or birder. America’s, and the world’s, wild places are inextricably linked to what it means to be human, and what it means to be alive. They belong to everyone.

All images credit Chris Dollar

by: Ryan Lockwood

posted in: In the Arena

October 23, 2024

In The Arena: Capt. Paul Dixon

TRCP’s “In the Arena” series highlights the individual voices of hunters and anglers who, as Theodore Roosevelt so famously said, strive valiantly in the worthy cause of conservation.

Paul Dixon

Hometown: East Hampton, N.Y.
Occupation: Saltwater fly fishing guide who owns Dixon’s To The Point Charters, offering fly fishing for stripers and bluefish off Montauk, N.Y., and for bonefish, permit, and tarpon in the Florida Keys.
Conservation credentials: Dixon is a past board member and current Advisory Council member of the conservation nonprofit Bonefish & Tarpon Trust (BTT) – a TRCP partner – and is responsible for helping to raise millions of dollars for marine conservation efforts. He has long been a vocal champion for striped bass conservation.

Captain Paul Dixon is nothing less than a star in the guiding space in Montauk, off the east end of Long Island, and in the Florida Keys. He essentially wrote the book on sight fishing for striped bass in the Northeastern U.S. and is the main character in author Peter Kaminsky’s celebrated 2002 book The Moon Pulled Up an Acre of Bass. Dixon has been featured on ESPN’s fishing shows Guide House: Montauk, The Walker’s Cay Chronicles and Spanish Fly; in the Millhouse Podcast; and in articles in The New York Times, Outdoor Life, The Miami Herald, New York (Magazine), Salt Water Sportsman, and Field and Stream. Dixon’s client list has included such celebrity anglers as Roger Waters (the bassist for Pink Floyd) and renowned Florida fisherman Flip Pallot. He’s Orvis-endorsed and named among the top 50 charter captains by Salt Water Sportsman. Perhaps most importantly, he’s used his considerable influence in angling circles to forward fish conservation efforts. In 2021 he was given the Izaak Walton Award from the American Museum of Fly Fishing, and in 2022, BTT bestowed him the Lefty Kreh Award for Lifetime Achievement in Conservation.

Here is his story.

Dixon poling as an angler releases a striper. Credit: The Anglers Lens

My mother put me on a dock with a dropline on Balboa Island in California when I was three years old. Almost every weekend I spent on a head boat in Southern California or in a duck blind.

My whole family was steeped in hunting and fishing. As a lieutenant in the Air Force, my father was stationed in Alaska. His job was to open up fishing camps for the officers stationed on the Distant Early Warning (DEW) Line [of Cold War radar stations] in 1952. He opened up the first camps in the Brooks Range on the Nac Nac River. My grandfather was a member of the Catalina Island Tuna Club in the 1930s and had his own duck club in Palmdale, Calif. He fished with author Zane Grey and singer Bing Crosby. So I grew up with great stories of outdoor adventures and dreamed of creating my own.

When I graduated from high school I was offered a job at the Wild Rose Ranch on Henry’s Lake in Idaho. Upon arrival the old timers told me, “We don’t spin fish here, kid. We fly fish,” and so the passion began. I had no nearby rivers or lakes so I began fly fishing in saltwater. I moved east in the mid-80s with the dream of opening my own fly fishing business and began Dixon’s Sporting Life, a fly fishing store in East Hampton, N.Y. I bought a flats skiff and began chasing striped bass.

“My biggest concern currently is that striped bass, again, are being depleted from all the commercial and recreational overfishing of the last 20 years.”

I have so many great memories of outdoor adventures with my father and family, but the most recent memories with my own sons come to mind. Notably, my son Andrew’s first tarpon, after 30 minutes and 10 jumps, came off, and Andrew says, “Damn they’re strong. I’m sort of glad he came off.” Recently, my oldest son, Austen, came striper fishing with me, and he caught 10 fish by 8:30 a.m., all of them over 30 pounds — a truly biblical morning.

Dixon’s son, Austen, with a Long Island striped bass. Credit: Paul Dixon

I have fished in many wonderful places all over the world, but I have not yet fished in Alaska. After hearing throughout my young life of fishing in Alaska from my father, I have harbored the dream of going there myself, with my own sons, and now have planned a trip for August 2025.

Dixon releasing a tarpon in the Florida Keys. Credit: Paul Dixon

I got involved with conservation when I moved east and realized that my dream fish, the striped bass, had been fished out. By the time that I opened my store in the early ’90s, the striped bass came roaring back after a 10-year fishing moratorium, one of the greatest conservation success stories in America. In a short period of time, however, the regulations started changing and, slowly but surely, you could see the effects on the fishery. I started going to fishery hearings to voice my concern about the fate of stripers and have been fighting the battle ever since. My ongoing conservation efforts are a way of preserving the fishery that has brought so much pleasure and excitement to my life for so many decades.

Dixon holding stripers for clients. Credit: Paul Dixon

For a long time, the biggest conservation challenge in our area was the restoration of the menhaden, which were being decimated by the factory ships. To deal the problem, the ships were outlawed from fishing in New York’s state waters. The recovery of menhaden was quickly evident from the abundance of whales, sharks, bass, and dolphin that were now feeding on menhaden up and down the coast. My biggest concern currently is that striped bass, again, are being depleted from all the commercial and recreational overfishing of the last 20 years.

Dixon with a bonefish on the flats in the Keys. Credit: Paul Dixon

It’s imperative for those of us who really love to hunt and fish to become involved in the preservation of the natural world. When I was 15 years old, I went with my father on a long-range fishing trip in search of albacore, 100 miles offshore. Leaving the harbor, my father said, “I remember when I used to catch albacore right off that jetty.”

I never want to say to my kids, “I remember when,” with fishing and hunting.

by: Noah Davis

posted in: In the Arena

October 15, 2024

In the Arena: Ryan Sparks

TRCP’s “In the Arena” series highlights the individual voices of hunters and anglers who, as Theodore Roosevelt so famously said, strive valiantly in the worthy cause of conservation.

Ryan Sparks

Hometown: Eight Mile Grove, Nebraska

Occupation: Editor of Quail Forever Journal

Conservation credentials: A long-time freelancer who focused on conservation issues impacting hunters and anglers across America, Sparks is now the editor of Quail Forever Journal.

Ryan Sparks learned to catch bluegills and chase whitetail bucks in southeastern Nebraska, but his work as a full-time freelance writer and photographer for nearly a decade took him to far-flung locations such as Ecuador in pursuit of outdoor stories. As a hunter and angler who finds ways to get outdoors in every season, Sparks is the perfect fit to head up a publication such as the Quail Forever Journal so he can inform and inspire other hunters and conservationists through words and photography.

Here is his story.

I grew up on my family’s farm in southeast Nebraska near the confluence of the Platte and Missouri Rivers. My dad and both grandfathers were passionate quail and pheasant hunters, so my introduction to hunting came naturally.

My first hunting memories are of walking fencerows for quail when I was just old enough to stumble in front of my dad’s pointers and flush coveys of bobwhites. My grandfather on my mom’s side, “Papa,” was also an obsessive duck hunter and fisherman so I grew up going on fishing trips with him for catfish, crappie, and bluegill.

Those initial outdoor experiences formed my love for nature as well as hunting and fishing. I later taught myself about bowhunting, flyfishing, waterfowl, turkeys, trapping, and several other outdoor pursuits.

Tippet and Sparks after a successful wild bobwhite quail hunt.

In college, I took classes that sounded interesting and came out with a double major in history and English. After graduating, I thought I wanted to be a history professor, and applied to study environmental history at Montana State University. I was fortunate to receive a full scholarship and a graduate teaching position at one of the strongest environmental history programs in the country.
Living in Montana opened my eyes to public land, big rivers, and wild country. It also made me realize I didn’t want to pursue a career in academia.

My academic advisor, Michael Reidy, gave me one of the best pieces of advice I’ve ever received. He told me that no matter what I did after graduate school, I should keep writing. And I did.

For the next decade I built a career as a full-time freelance writer and photographer, focusing on hunting, fishing, wild food, and conservation.

Through my work I’ve had the opportunity to go on some incredible adventures. I’ve traveled the world with a notepad, camera, and either a shotgun or a fly rod (and sometimes both) from Alaska to the Amazon.

“Without a cultural value of nature, there won’t be a voice to speak for it. Hunting and fishing are the greatest ways I know for someone to learn about themselves and their place in nature.”

Hunting, fishing, eating wild game, and conservation are all integral parts of my life. They aren’t hobbies or a lifestyle – they are who I am.

I hope to contribute as much if not more than I take in all aspects of my life, and I certainly hope to achieve that when it comes to hunting and fishing. I find doing habitat work on our family farm as fulfilling as a successful hunt. On a larger level, if I can help advance the conservation mission of Quail Forever by informing and inspiring other hunters and conservationists, I find that extremely rewarding as well.

Working as the editor of Quail Forever Journal is a dream job for me. It combines my greatest passions in life with what I am good at and is fulfilling work.

Simply put, conservation is taking care of the things we love. I love to hear a turkey gobble in the spring. I love to see a covey of quail explode from a thicket. I love to watch whitetails rut in November. I love to catch a stringer of crappie and fry them up for my family.

I know my parents and grandparents loved these things before me and I’m doing my best to make sure my future children will have a chance to love them as well. If we want these things to last, we need to be involved in conservation.

Without a cultural value of nature, there won’t be a voice to speak for it. Hunting and fishing are the greatest ways I know for someone to learn about themselves and their place in nature. They are a key component to our humanity. It is why we feel so alive when we hunt and fish. That exuberant feeling of life is what inspires me as a conservationist.

Working in conservation isn’t just about preserving landscapes; it’s about nurturing the cultural and ecological tapestry that defines who we are and what we value. Without a collective effort to protect these treasures, we risk losing the profound essence of what makes us human.

Sparks with a trophy wild rainbow from Jurassic Lake.

Photo credits: Ryan Sparks