In the rower's seat

Tips on captaining a drift boat
Photo: Kris Millgate
"You look like you got ran over by a truck," my son says.

"Mom's a rookie."

My husband is right. When it comes to rowing, I'm a rookie. The black grease smeared across the front of my orange fleece is evidence of that. I tried hooking our drift boat to my truck on my own. I'm not proud of my performance in the driveway. The dirty shirt is my now my scarlet letter and I have to wear it while I learn to row.

How to cook fish in the backcountry

Smoking trout in the wild with nothing but tin foil
Photo: Spencer Durrant
For someone who grew up in the Rockies, I wasn’t all that bright on my first few trips to the backcountry. One trip, in my mid-teens, had me all but convinced I’d give up backpacking for good.

I’d packed the necessary items—a tent, sleeping bag, extra clothes, and fishing tackle—but what I’d loaded up on was food. I hated every step of that hike because of its weight and the real irony here is that I didn’t even eat half of what I’d brought.

The booze cruise

I get called a fisherman, but I don't think that's fitting
Photo: Chris Hunt
The celebratory week in Los Cabos was drawing to an end—the obligatory sunset dinner cruise out to the region’s famous arch that divides the Sea of Cortez from the Pacific was about over, and the big party boat was heading back to the marina.

Rubber vs. felt: Almost 10 years later

Getting a grip on where we are now
Photo: Kris Millgate
Spring runoff hasn’t muddied all of the water yet so I can clearly see where I’m placing my foot in the freestone river. Pebbles and a smudge of silt swirl around my wading boots turning the new, white-felt sole into a sponge absorbing green hues and gunk. I take another step. The sole on my other foot is designed dark so it doesn’t change color. It doesn’t grab as well either. It’s rubber. Rubber is on my right foot. Felt is on my left. I’m wading in mismatched boots testing the grip ability of rubber versus felt.