The Tradition Continues

July 31, 2025

TRCP’s Western conservation communications manager reflects on the recent victory for public lands and the opportunities this freedom affords

My dad and I worked our way up the creek, which was the only way through the willows, the only path to follow. The stream emptied the peaks above and had flattened out in this hanging valley before it would again find its course to pour lower into the valley.

Where the water gained a foot of depth in front of a young ponderosa that had fallen in, we watched cutthroat trout interrupt the flow as they rose to a hatch of small, gray mayflies that tumbled in the current.

I’d caught a 10-incher in the last bend, so dad took his position on the left bank. Back far enough so his shadow wouldn’t reach over the water, he cast a #14 purple haze toward the top of the run in the bubble line that hugged the grass.

On a day like the one we’d been having, there should’ve been no surprise when the trout appeared below the fly. But there is always a reaction—the same as when a woodcock flushes from cover, or a deer walks into a clearing—of a trout materializing where only a moment ago there was none.

The trout followed the drift for a moment, then swallowed the fly with confidence. Dad’s 3wt bowed with the strong runs and we shared smiles watching the beautiful fish turn in the clear water. The black-spotted Westslope cutthroat came to his hand. The pastel cheek iridescent above the orange flash of the slash beneath the chin.

After a quick picture, the fish bolted back into the depth, disappearing in the nervous water as mayflies continued to float past.

“Plenty of water ahead,” my dad said, drying his hands on his pants.

“And plenty of day to fill,” I smiled back.

For the last dozen summers, my dad and I have spent weeks together in the backcountry of America’s public lands. Sometimes my mom and brother would accompany us, other times my wife, but the constant has been my dad and me folding into the routine of sleeping, eating, and fishing.

This most recent trip felt different. Not that anything had changed, but that it had stayed the same.

During the months before our father-son-first-week-of-July excursion, I’d worked with dozens of members of our TRCP team to help elevate the voices of tens of thousands of fellow hunters and anglers, leading outdoor brands, and partners in urging lawmakers to remove public land sales from budget reconciliation legislation.

We built action alerts and sent emails, organized letters and meetings, called our representatives and spread the news far and wide. We experienced small victories and setbacks and kept pushing knowing that every message to Congress was another step toward keeping our public lands in public hands. It was a powerful and moving moment to be committed our public lands that are the pride of our nation. I was honored to play a small part in this work.

By the time my trip rolled around, the team knew a decision was imminent, yet nothing had been announced. The day before I disappeared into mountains remote enough to bar me from any news, the amendment that would have mandated the sale of millions of acres of public lands was removed.

The celebration began across social media, news outlets, and emails from engaged organizations. The challenge that we had spent months working to overcome was overcome thanks to tens of thousands of conservation-minded people, as well as national, state, and local hunting and fishing businesses and organizations, and leadership from a bipartisan group of public land champions in Congress. Public lands had won!

The beaver dam had been blown out, but still the far side benefited from the slower water where the foundation clung to the bottom. A willow carcass made the run that much more enticing to fish and a danger to an errant cast.

And an errant cast was thrown by me so that my royal Wulff wrapped around a skinny finger of a branch and hung there for just long enough that disappointment grew in my stomach for ruining such a pool. Then, gracefully, the tug of the current on my line pulled the hook to set it free and the fly landed on the water.

Because the accidental placement became accidentally perfect for the drift, a cutthroat rose and swallowed the fly. I watched the orange sides turn and bully into the tangle. My tippet held and finally the trout came into the shallows where I beheld its spot-free side before the black studs appeared on the tail. A perfect fish in a perfect stream.

When the cutthroat returned to the run, Dad and I took a moment to drink some water before continuing. In that still moment, a time when our minds weren’t only occupied by the best path around a log jam or if that stretch was worth fishing, we each said out loud how grateful we were to live in a country that has public land where we can explore and be together without any worry or need to ask permission. That these millions of acres are ours to cherish.

And then we went back to fishing.

The victory of defeating public land sales is worth celebrating, but this most recent challenge is a reminder that our public lands are never guaranteed.

Learn more about how you can stay engaged on hunting and fishing access through our updated Public Land Access webpage below.

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Read more public land reflections from the TRCP team HERE.

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by: Noah Davis

posted in: Conservation Field Notes

Dispatches from Public Lands

After mandatory public land sales were removed from budget reconciliation legislation earlier this summer thanks to tens of thousands of hunters and anglers like you, TRCP staff took to public lands to enjoy places they cherish and celebrate the victory. Below are their stories

From Chelsea Pardo, Alaska Senior Program Manager

Over the 4th of July holiday, I was fortunate to float the Kenai River in Alaska. The Kenai is the longest river on the Kenai Peninsula in southcentral Alaska and is known for its striking turquoise water and salmon runs.

We packed me, my sister and brother-in-law, and two dogs into the raft and set off on our float. We caught sockeye salmon already well into their spawning transformation as they made their way toward Skilak Lake, and I also landed a rainbow trout, shimmering with incredible colors! Our toughest fishing competition was the grizzly bears along the riverbank.

Throughout the weekend, I felt deep gratitude for having access to such amazing public lands so close to home knowing the public land sales were defeated.

From Emily Forkey, Digital Coordinator

Living in Washington D.C., I sometimes need a little break from the city. Luckily, the Shenandoah and Blue Ridge Mountains and the National Forests that span across those ridges are a short distance away. Since moving to northern Virginia in 2021, the Appalachian Mountains have become really special to me.

When public land sales were removed from budget reconciliation, I was in the middle of enjoying these amazing public lands. My boyfriend and I did a little road trip to Natural Bridge State Park and drove along the Blue Ridge Parkway, stumbling upon Otter Lake Waterfall. We were able to disconnect in the mountains and ended the weekend at Sherando Lake in the George Washington and Jefferson National Forest, swimming and enjoying the beautiful scenery. There was no better way to celebrate this win than spending it in one of my favorite public land spaces.

From Kris Coston, Nevada Field Representative

Hot and dry. That’s the 4^th of July in northern Nevada.

From my days as a wildland firefighter, I still recall the safety protocols that every wildland firefighter lives and dies by: the LCES’s.

Lookouts
Communications
Escape routes
Safety zones

Now that my firefighting days and wilder years of my youth are behind me, LCES’s have taken on a new meaning.

Locate
Cooler and
Establish
Shade….

There is no better place to practice your LCES skills and situational awareness than the crest of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, jeweled with countless cool blue lakes and icy streams, the crest is the juxtaposition of hot and dry.

I can load the family in the truck with rods and tackle, ice, water, beer, camping gear, and food and drive up and over the Carson Pass at 8,652 feet and feel the heat drop into the valley floor like a discarded coat. From here on out it’s wet lines and family time as we fish and camp our way from one lake or stream to another.

Celebrating the 4^th is something that I used to do on a mountain top blackened by fire. Now I celebrate from the shores of a clear cool lake or stream and reminisce happily about those old and wild times, thinking how lucky I am to live and raise a family in the greatest country on earth where public lands are in public hands.

To all those men and women who protect our public lands from wildfire, I salute you and thank you for your hard work and sacrifice. And thank you to all who spoke up on behalf of public lands so we can all celebrate in these special places.

From Marcel Gaztambide, Southwest Field Manager

For me and my wife, Bria, some of our most cherished memories with family and friends were made on public lands. Everything from following the careful steps of my grandfather while elk hunting in the Uinta Mountains, trout fishing at Flaming Gorge Reservoir, riding horseback in the Wyoming Range, racing dirt bikes and mountain bikes, wind surfing and paddleboarding, desert river trips, and late-night campfires with themed-dress-up silliness. All of this unstructured fun was easily constructed across 640 million acres of public land in the United States.

When we welcomed our son, Ander, into the world 8 months ago, my wife and I were most looking forward to adventuring with him outside. We were so excited to teach him how to bag the peaks, run the rivers, and track big game through the forests. How to set up his tent, build a fire, and hang a bear-bag. How to squeeze the most out of a life spent out-of-doors on public land.

After the beautiful defense of public spaces mounted by tens of thousands of hunters and anglers across our country, we spent our 4^th of July weekend camping out on the San Juan National Forest in southwest Colorado. This was Ander’s second time camping, and certainly not his last, and the trip was made sweeter knowing that people from all walks of life are working hard to protect his ability to carry on our traditions and to have his own adventures. Cheers to public lands, the people who enjoy them, and the people who help keep them in public hands!

From Rob Thornberry, Idaho Field Representative

For years, my son, Jake, and I rarely fished or hunted together. The monthly escapes that we enjoyed during his youth were lost to life. First to high school sports and then to his college years and later when he started a family and a career of his own, now a four-hour drive from my home.

Although we happily forged new bonds–his first daughter calls me Bee-pa and has me hopelessly wrapped around her pinkie–I’ve missed our spring excursions to catch trout on stoneflies and our fall adventures to hunt deer and elk.

That is why when the public land sales amendment was removed from the budget reconciliation package, I received another great joy of summer. Jake texted and asked for a fishing trip for his birthday. Me and him.

Fast forward a couple of weekends and we were tumbling down the ever-roaring South Fork of the Boise River casting huge flies to fat rainbows, him beaming like the boy I so fondly remembered.

As I write this, the Monday after a perfect weekend, I revel in the text just received: “That was a lot of fun. I’m excited for next year.”

It is a tradition built, and survives to this day, on public lands and waters.

From Michael O’Casey, Director of Public Lands

Growing up, our family vacations were centered around public lands. Always on a budget, our trips only required a tent, gravel roads, and the excitement of discovery and freedom found dispersed camping along mountain streams of Oregon, Idaho, Montana, and Wyoming. These trips often culminated in a few days camping and exploring Yellowstone National Park. We’d make the trek from the Oregon coast, driving through high desert, pine forests, and wildflower-filled meadows as we neared the park boundary. Those long road trips and days outdoors formed some of my favorite childhood memories and sparked a passion that led me to work several seasons for the National Park Service and a career in public lands policy.

This summer, as a father of three (8,3,0), I had the chance to return to Yellowstone and share some of these favorite places with my own kids. Watching my oldest catch his first brown trout on a dry fly, listening to them whine as they covered their noses from the smell of rotten eggs at the geysers, and seeing the shock on their faces as Old Faithful erupted for the first time reminded me of the value of these timeless places.

After experiencing such an amazing win as keeping public lands in public hands, what struck me most was how little the experience has changed, and how important that is. In a world that feels increasingly fast and fragmented, these shared landscapes provide a place to slow down, create quality unbroken time together, and to remember what truly matters.

From Josh Metten, Wyoming Field Manager

My dog, Ollie, is a public land pup through and through. He’s a rescue mutt from Omaha, Nebraska, but that hasn’t stopped him from becoming a lover of all the outdoor activities public lands have to offer. In our time together in Wyoming, we’ve backpacked through the Absaroka Wilderness, backcountry skied the Tetons, hunted elk in the Wyoming Range, and chased chukar across rugged Bureau of Land Management lands. Most recently, we shared a float down Idaho’s Selway River, which might be my favorite experience with Ollie yet.

Like most Wyomingites, public land is central to my way of life, so I was thrilled that the amendment that would have mandated millions of acres of public land sales in budget reconciliation legislation was removed! Ollie and I celebrated by joining friends on a six-day float down Idaho’s Selway River. The river flows through the Selway Bitterroot Wilderness, which was designated by the 1964 Wilderness Act, a bill sponsored by the late Idaho Senator Frank Church.

Americans love public lands because of their abundance and the freedom they provide. At 640 million acres, we have a massive expanse of diverse landscapes to experience. Floating the Selway was an opportunity to unplug from the rigors of daily life and be thankful that these amazing places have been stewarded for present and future generations to enjoy. I’m happy to share that Ollie loved the float and we can add multi-day river trips to our list of shared public land activities. It turns out that most activities on public lands are better with friends and dogs.

Read another public land reflection from the TRCP team HERE.

Photo credits: TRCP Staff

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by: Noah Davis

posted in: Conservation Field Notes

July 21, 2025

Against the Odds

TRCP’s Chief Conservation Officer drew a coveted Nevada elk tag in 2024, and the hunt, along with some conservation issues of the state, was documented by Randy Newberg and the Fresh Tracks Team. Watch the full episode HERE.

After nearly two decades of applying, Joel Webster, TRCP’s Chief Conservation Officer, was fortunate enough to draw a highly sought-after elk tag in Nevada. The type of elk tag that offers less than 1% draw odds for nonresidents.

Planning began as soon as the tag results were announced, and Webster scouted the area over the summer and fall to familiarize himself with the unit and how to hunt it.

Being a conservation professional, Webster understands that while there are incredible hunting opportunities within Nevada’s Great Basin region, there are also conservation challenges that must be addressed to maintain and enhance hunting opportunities.

Randy Newberg, host of Fresh Tracks and the Hunt Talk Radio podcast, joined Webster in November to help him find a mature bull and to also highlight the conservation issues of the region.

The challenges discussed in the episode include drought, invasive grasses, and feral horses, all of which put a strain on the high desert and island range ecosystems that are crucial to the future of beloved animals such as elk, mule deer, pronghorn, and sage grouse.

Webster (left) and Newberg celebrate a successful pack out.

After cold mornings and evenings glassing and maneuvering around other hunters, Joel was able to punch his tag on a gorgeous 6×6 bull on a juniper-studded slope. A generous gift from public lands to someone committed to helping secure quality places to hunt and fish for all Americans.

“I really care about the future of hunting and fishing in America, and I want to make sure these traditions are sustained and that our rights and opportunities are maintained,” said Webster. “When I get up in the morning, that’s what I focus on all day long and that’s a big part of my life.”

Watch the full episode HERE.

Photo credits: Fresh Tracks

by: Noah Davis

posted in: Conservation Field Notes

July 1, 2025

Water for Deer, Pronghorn, Chukar, and a Whole Lot More

Nevada Bighorns Unlimited, NV Energy, Nevada Department of Wildlife staff, the Theodore Roosevelt Conservation Partnership, and conservation-minded volunteers construct a water guzzler for desert wildlife

This past May, employees of NV Energy joined staff from the Nevada Department of Wildlife, Nevada Bighorns Unlimited, the Theodore Roosevelt Conservation Partnership, and other conservation-minded volunteers to construct a new guzzler in Churchill County for mule deer, pronghorn, chukar, desert bighorns, and other wildlife.

Water is the primary limiting factor for wildlife in much of Nevada, and guzzlers have become a critical habitat improvement in arid climates across the West. Guzzlers are human-made rain or snow collection systems that store water in a reservoir for wildlife to drink during drought. Many have been funded and built in the same way as this Churchill County project – through volunteers and donations.

“I am very grateful that NV Energy partnered with the Nevada Bighorns Unlimited, Nevada Department of Wildlife, and the TRCP allowing us this opportunity to contribute to the sustainability of Nevada’s wildlife,” said Tony Gildone, NV Energy director of electric delivery operations, Northeast Region.

The NV Energy Foundation, as part of a grant awarded to TRCP for conservation work in Nevada, funded a portion of the cost of the event, and several NV Energy employees and their families participated in the volunteer day.

“My son is already talking about helping Nevada Bighorns Unlimited with the next build,” said Jason Tarr NV Energy business systems analyst. “He really enjoyed that experience.”

The day of the guzzler build saw an incredible turnout of nearly 200 volunteers. After a welcome and a safety talk from the Nevada Bighorns Unlimited board, everyone headed out to the project. Thanks to the Nevada Department of Wildlife crews who were out days prior clearing roads and preparing the site with tanks totaling 12,000 gallons of storage and the self levelling drinker, the volunteers were able to step right in and complete the project by mid-afternoon.

“I enjoyed my time working on the guzzler project and hope NV Energy does it again next year,” said Mariel Forman, NV Energy customer service representative. “It was a great opportunity to give back to wildlife in Nevada and spend time with my family.”

Learn more about the history of guzzler building in Nevada HERE.

by: Chelsea Pardo

posted in: Conservation Field Notes

June 26, 2025

Alaska Stewardship in Action

TRCP, BHA, the Forest Service, and the Kenai Watershed Forum team up to help conserve the Russian River

At the Theodore Roosevelt Conservation Partnership, we believe the most impactful conservation wins occur through collaboration and recent work on Alaska’s Russian River this past May perfectly personifies that sentiment.

This spring, as TRCP’s senior Alaska program manager, I volunteered with the Alaska Chapter of Backcountry Hunters & Anglers, the U.S. Forest Service, and the Kenai Watershed Forum for the annual Russian River Stewardship Project. Being out in the field to help conserve crucial salmon habitat reminded me just how essential this work is to maintaining Alaska’s remarkable fisheries for anglers and local communities alike.

Each year, this effort brings together volunteers to maintain one of Alaska’s most cherished salmon fisheries. The project focuses on installing temporary fencing along the river to guide anglers to designated access points—a simple but effective way to prevent bank erosion and safeguard fish habitat.

The Russian River is one of the most popular and heavily used fisheries in the state. Each summer, the Russian draws thousands of anglers from across Alaska and beyond hoping to experience the thrill of sockeye fishing in a stunning wild setting. Its clear waters, strong salmon returns, and relatively easy access from the road system make it a treasured public resource—not only for anglers but also for local economies and outdoor recreation traditions. Conserving the river’s ecological health is essential to keeping these opportunities alive for future generations.

At the heart of this fishery are the sockeye salmon, whose migration drives fishing opportunities and the broader ecological cycle. These salmon nourish bears, eagles, and countless other species, and when they spawn and die, their bodies deliver vital marine nutrients deep into inland ecosystems. Ensuring healthy salmon runs means maintaining the health of the forest, the river, and all the life they support—including ours.

With clear skies above and snow still clinging to the distant peaks, ten volunteers suited up in waders, gloves, and hit the trail. Spirits were high, and the sense of community was strong.

Once at the river, the crew worked together to drive posts and stretch fencing along popular access points. While the task was physical, it was also rewarding—each stake in the ground was a small but meaningful investment in the health of the river. By guiding foot traffic away from vulnerable banks, fencing helps reduce sediment runoff, which can degrade spawning habitat and impact salmon survival.

Of course, no day on the Russian is complete without pausing to take in the scenery of water rushing through a lush green corridor framed by rugged alpine slopes. It was a beautiful reminder of what’s at stake and why this kind of stewardship matters.

This work fits squarely within TRCP’s mission in Alaska—to maintain public access and wild places and support the habitat that sustains fish and wildlife populations. Whether we’re weighing in on federal policy or rolling up our sleeves for on-the-ground projects like this one, TRCP is committed to ensuring Alaska remains a place where salmon run strong, hunting and fishing traditions thrive, and conservation is driven by people who care deeply for the land.

Thank you to our partners at BHA, the U.S Forest Service, and the Kenai Watershed Forum for leading this effort, and to the volunteers who made the time to show up and do the work. Your hands-on conservation helps ensure that places like the Russian River remain healthy, accessible, and fishable for generations to come.

We’re proud to support this project and look forward to continuing our work together in the years ahead.

Learn more about TRCP’s work in Alaska HERE.