Summit and Stream

Tag: Adventure

  • My Hoyt Bow Setup for Western Hunting & 3D Shooting: What I Run and Why

    My Hoyt Bow Setup for Western Hunting & 3D Shooting: What I Run and Why

    I don’t believe in building separate bows for every discipline. I believe in building one bow I know inside and out — one that gets shot year-round, carried into the mountains, and trusted when things aren’t perfect.

    This is my current hybrid bow setup, built to work for both western big-game hunting and 3D shooting. Every piece here was chosen deliberately. Nothing is theoretical. This setup has been practiced with, tuned, adjusted, and carried — and it continues to evolve as I learn.

    The Foundation: Bow & Core Specs

    At the center of this setup is my Hoyt Ventum 33”.

    Axle-to-Axle: 33″ Brace Height: 6 ⅜″ Draw Length: 29″ Draw Weight: 70 lbs (run year-round)

    The Ventum 33 hits a rare balance point. It’s compact enough to move well in timber and steep terrain, but stable enough to feel composed at full draw — whether I’m shooting foam targets or waiting on an animal to commit.

    I run 70 pounds all year without backing off in the offseason. That consistency matters. Same draw weight, same feel, same execution. I want my practice to translate directly into hunting season without mental or physical adjustments.

    Where this bow really stands out is how calm it feels once I hit the wall. It doesn’t rush me or feel jumpy. It settles and holds, which shows up on longer 3D shots and matters even more when a real animal keeps you at full draw longer than planned.

    Sight: One Setup, Two Roles

    I run the Black Gold Pro Hunter HD 3-pin slider, and it’s one of the most important pieces in making this bow a true hybrid.


    The Black Gold Pro Hunter HD 3-pin slider in its element — simple in the field, precise when dialed for distance.

    For hunting, I keep the pins set at 20, 30, and 40 yards. That covers the majority of real western shots and keeps the sight picture clean and fast. When an animal steps out, I’m not thinking about dialing or sorting through pins — I already have what I need.

    Anything beyond 40 yards, I use the bottom pin as a floater. If time and conditions allow, I’ll dial the sight to exact yardage and hold dead-on. That gives me the precision of a single-pin setup without sacrificing the speed and simplicity of fixed pins for closer encounters.

    This system carries perfectly into the offseason and 3D shooting.

    When I’m shooting 3D, I rely heavily on the slider. Dialing exact yardage with the bottom pin keeps practice honest and exposes flaws quickly — especially at longer distances.

    During the offseason, I also add the Black Gold 2x Magnifier. The magnification doesn’t make shots easier — it makes mistakes obvious. Pin float, anchor inconsistencies, execution issues — they all show up immediately.

    When hunting season rolls around, the magnifier comes off. The sight goes back to a clean, forgiving setup that’s fast in low light and familiar under pressure.

    Same sight. Same pins. Same muscle memory.

    Just more precision when I want it, and simplicity when I need it.

    Stabilizers: Tuned for Balance, Not a Dead Pin

    Stabilizers are where most hybrid setups go wrong — either too heavy and range-only, or too minimal to be effective.

    I run Shrewd Vantage stabilizers in a front-and-rear configuration:

    Front: 12″ with 1 oz Rear: 9″ with 3 oz

    This setup is about balance, not chasing a perfectly still pin.

    The longer front bar gives direction and slows the sight picture without making the bow feel nose-heavy. Keeping the front weight light makes the bow easier to manage in the mountains and more forgiving on uneven footing.

    The rear bar does most of the stabilizing work. Running more weight in the back helps the bow settle naturally and stay upright at full draw. Instead of forcing the bow to hold still, it feels neutral — like it wants to stay where I aim it.

    For 3D shooting, this setup:

    Slows pin float Helps the bow track cleanly through the shot Makes long practice sessions more consistent

    For hunting, it stays compact, maneuverable, and easy to live with in brush, timber, and steep terrain.

    Arrow Rest: Simple, Bombproof, and Consistent

    I run the Hamskea Hunter Hybrid Pro, and it’s one of those components I don’t think about anymore — which is exactly what I want.

    The rest is quiet, secure, and extremely consistent. Once it’s set, it stays set. I don’t worry about timing issues, movement, or noise — whether I’m shooting 3D targets or hiking miles into elk country.

    It holds the arrow securely while moving, tunes easily, and disappears once I’m at full draw. That reliability is why it’s earned a permanent place on this bow.


    Shooting the same Hoyt Ventum 33 setup year-round — building confidence through repetition instead of changing gear between seasons.

    Why This Setup Works as a Hybrid

    This bow works because nothing changes between seasons.

    Same draw weight.

    Same sight picture.

    Same balance.

    Same feel.

    3D shooting keeps me honest. Hunting keeps me realistic. Running one setup forces consistency — and consistency builds confidence.

    Foam exposes flaws. Animals punish them. This setup helps me address both.

    Final Thoughts

    This isn’t a trendy build or a spec-sheet flex. It’s a setup built around reliability, familiarity, and repeatable execution.

    If you’re building a hybrid bow for western hunting and 3D shooting:

    Keep it balanced Keep it simple Shoot it year-round

    That’s how confidence is built — one arrow at a time.

    Coming Next

    I’ll break out deeper dives on:

    Arrow builds & weight philosophy Broadheads for western game Tuning this setup for both 3D and hunting Why I run a 3-pin slider in the West

    Affiliate Disclosure

    This post may contain affiliate links. If you purchase through these links, I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. I only recommend gear I personally use and trust.

  • 12 Fly Fishing Gifts That Are Actually Worth Buying (From Brands I Trust on the Water)

    12 Fly Fishing Gifts That Are Actually Worth Buying (From Brands I Trust on the Water)

    Quality gear, field-tested picks, and zero fluff.

    Buying gifts for fly anglers can be a minefield. Between personal preferences, regional differences, and endless gear options, it’s tough to know what someone will actually use. So instead of novelty items or gimmicks, here’s a list of 12 fly-fishing gifts that I’ve personally tested, beaten up, and still depend on across Colorado rivers, alpine lakes, and long weekends in the backcountry.

    These come from some of the most trusted brands in fly fishing — Umpqua, RIO, Fishpond, Orvis, Loon, YETI, Marsupial — companies that build gear real anglers rely on. No shortcuts. No cheap plastic junk. Just solid kit that stands up to weather, water, and hard use.

    1. Umpqua RiverRun Nip w/ Lanyard

    Nippers are one of those pieces of gear you don’t appreciate until you’ve used a good pair. Umpqua’s RiverRun Nip is sharp, reliable, and built with that no-nonsense Umpqua quality. The included lanyard keeps it exactly where you need it — not at the bottom of your pack or lost in the truck.

    Why it’s great: ultra-clean cuts, corrosion-resistant, and built to outlast the cheap stuff.

    2. RIO Headgate Tippet Holder + Powerflex Tippet (2X–6X)

    This is hands down one of the most practical gifts on this list. The Headgate dispenser keeps tippet tidy and accessible, and RIO’s Powerflex material is the gold standard — strong knots, consistent diameter, and dependable performance in every season.

    Why it’s great: keeps your essential tippet organized; includes the sizes you actually use.

    3. Fishpond Confluence Net Release 2.0

    Fishpond took the classic magnetic net release and made it better. Stronger magnet. Cleaner design. Harder to lose. Easier to grab. This is the release system I trust when I’m wading deep or scrambling up boulders with a rod in hand.

    Why it’s great: rock-solid magnet strength; eliminates the net-fumble moment.

    4. Fishpond Tacky Pescador Fly Box (Small, MagPad, Waterproof)

    Tacky boxes are the benchmark for modern fly storage. The Pescador Small is waterproof, nearly bomb-proof, and uses the magnetic pad to make rigging and sorting flies stupidly easy. It’s compact enough for a sling pack but durable enough for guide-level use.

    Why it’s great: waterproof security + MagPad organization = flawless on-the-water usability.

    5. Nitecore NU25 UL Headlamp (USB-C, 400 Lumens)

    If you fish sunup to sundown — or do early-morning trail approaches — this is the headlamp you want. The NU25 UL is insanely lightweight, bright enough for night rigging, and charges fast via USB-C. I carry it for fishing, hunting, and camp use.

    Why it’s great: ultra-light, ultra-bright, ultra-reliable.

    6. Marsupial Gear Sun Tech Hoodie (Pictured at top of page)

    A legit sun hoodie is one of the most-used clothing items in my entire kit. Marsupial nailed the balance: breathable, quick-drying, and rugged enough for brushy riverbanks and sweaty ridge hikes. Perfect for summer trout missions or warm-weather overlanding.

    Why it’s great: superior sun protection from a brand built for tough western conditions.

    7. Orvis Fishing Lanyard

    Orvis keeps it simple and clean with their gear lanyard — lightweight, low-profile, and built to keep essentials (forceps, nippers, floatant) exactly where they need to be. It’s a great gift for anglers who want to ditch the bulky vest without losing organization.

    Why it’s great: efficient, minimal, and built with classic Orvis durability.

    8. Orvis Premium Fly-Tying Kit

    This is the kit that actually sets a new tier of fly-tying starter tools. Orvis includes the right vise, the right tools, and the right materials — not filler — so you can tie patterns you’ll actually fish. Winter nights, quiet weekends, post-work sessions… this kit fuels all of it.

    Why it’s great: high-quality tools + enough material for ~160 flies = the perfect beginner or upgrade kit.

    9. A. Fishpond Thunderhead Submersible Sling Pack

    If you’re fishing hard, hiking through weather, or crossing rivers, waterproof matters. The Thunderhead Sling Pack is burly, submersible, and practically indestructible. Fishpond’s zippers and materials are in a class of their own.

    Why it’s great: true waterproof security for anglers who push deep water and rugged terrain.

    B. Orvis Fly Fishing Sling Pack

    Another killer option, especially for anglers who want a lightweight, accessible pack without going full submersible. Orvis builds these with smart pocket layout, intuitive storage, and comfort for long days on the water.

    Why it’s great: roomy, reliable, and built for anglers who value speed and accessibility.

    10. Loon Outdoors Line Up Fly Line Cleaning Kit

    A clean fly line casts better — period. Loon’s cleaning system is simple, fast, and one of the best ways to extend the life of a line. It improves float, reduces drag, and helps you mend and shoot line more efficiently.

    Why it’s great: cheap upgrade that makes a big difference in performance.

    11. Fishpond River Rat 2.0 Insulated Beverage Holder

    A little fun, a lot of function. This insulated can holder clips right to your pack or belt and keeps drinks cold through long summer sessions. Perfect gift for the angler who likes a mid-day river beverage — responsibly, of course.

    Why it’s great: simple, durable, and honestly one of the most-used accessories I own.

    Add link here

    12. YETI LoadOut 15 GoBox (Waterproof Gear Case)

    This is the king of rugged organization. The YETI GoBox is a waterproof, dustproof, damn-near-indestructible storage system for camera gear, fly boxes, tools, snacks, first-aid kits — everything. Mine lives between fishing, hunting, and overlanding duty.

    Why it’s great: the most reliable all-weather gear box you can own.

    Final Thoughts: Give Gear That’s Built to Last

    Every item on this list comes from a brand I trust — gear I’ve personally used on the water, on the trail, or in camp. If you want a gift that’ll get used (not tossed in a drawer), stick with proven equipment built to handle real-world fishing. These twelve picks deliver exactly that.

    This post may contain affiliate links, which means I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. I only recommend gear I’ve tested and trust, and these commissions help support the blog.

  • Border Country Reflections

    Border Country Reflections

    “When the trip ends, it’s not just the animals you remember — it’s the quiet moments between.”

    There’s a stretch of land along the Colorado-Wyoming border where the plains roll out like an ocean, broken only by sagebrush, distant ridgelines, and the flash of pronghorn moving across the horizon. It’s a place where patience is tested, where storms come out of nowhere, and where the stillness between pursuits can be just as memorable as the action.

    This trip was a mix of bowhunting and fly fishing—three days chasing antelope and sliding in hours on the water whenever I could. I didn’t end up bringing home a pronghorn, but the lessons, the fish, and the memories made the trip worth every mile.

    The Stalks

    Pronghorn are humbling animals. Their eyesight is otherworldly, and every time I thought I had the upper hand, I learned otherwise. Over three days, I made twelve stalks. Some ended quickly, with the herd blowing out before I could even close the distance. Others took me crawling through sage, using every dip in the ground to get closer.

    The closest I came was fifty yards. I’d worked my way over a rolling hill, heart pounding, certain the herd was still bedded a hundred yards off. When I eased my head just a little too high, they were right there. One flick of an ear, and then they were gone—white rumps flashing as they bolted across the plains. It was equal parts frustration and awe. I had blown the stalk, but even in failure, I was reminded why I love bowhunting. It’s the chess match, the patience, and the razor-thin line between success and a story.

    Fishing Between the Hunts

    The bow went back into the Jeep when the sun climbed high, and the fly rod took its place. The border country has a way of surprising you—small streams that swell with rain, lakes tucked against quiet timber. In the afternoons, I’d watch thunderstorms roll in, the sky turning bruise-colored before opening up. Afterward, the water would stain just enough to bring brown trout up.

    I landed fish in those in-between hours, slipping casts between willows, the smell of wet sage still hanging in the air. It wasn’t just about catching trout—it was about resetting after the intensity of the stalks. Fishing gave me space to breathe, and every fish felt like a small reward for the grind of the hunt.

    Weather and Wide-Open Silence

    Out here, the weather feels alive. Thunderheads build on the horizon, and you know you’ve got an hour before the storm reaches you. The wind shifts, rattling the grass, and the temperature drops in an instant. When the rain passes, the world feels washed clean—the smell of damp earth, the shimmer of water on sage, the sky cracked open into endless blue.

    But it’s the silence that hits hardest. The kind you only notice after the wind dies, when the prairie holds its breath. I’d sit on a ridge, glassing, and realize how loud the quiet really was. No roads, no voices—just space. That solitude is something you don’t forget.

    Wildlife in Passing

    It wasn’t just pronghorn and trout that filled the trip. Mule deer appeared in the early mornings, their silhouettes sharp against the skyline. Hawks rode the thermals, and once, while crouched low in a drainage, I watched a badger shuffle across the dirt no more than twenty yards away. These encounters weren’t the focus, but they stitched the days together, reminders that the border country is alive in ways that don’t always revolve around your tag or your line.

    Comparing Adventures

    Compared to the high country trips I’ve taken, this one was its own beast. Backpacking deep into the San Juans demands endurance; chasing elk in dark timber demands grit. But the plains? They demand patience and humility. You don’t win with brute strength out here. You win—or learn—by slowing down, reading the land, and accepting that sometimes the antelope win.

    Advice for the Border Country Wanderer

    If you’re planning a multi-sport trip in remote country, a few takeaways from mine:

    Plan for weather swings: From sunburn to sideways rain in the same afternoon—pack layers, and never underestimate how fast storms can build. Balance your pursuits: Don’t treat fishing as an afterthought. Let it reset you between hunts. It makes both more rewarding. Accept the solitude: Out here, success isn’t just measured in filled tags or full nets. Sometimes the best takeaway is the quiet.

    Closing Thought

    I didn’t leave the border country with a pronghorn in the cooler. What I left with were stories of twelve stalks, brown trout caught in stained water, and hours of silence broken only by wind and distant thunder. It wasn’t about success in the usual sense—it was about being out there, testing myself, and learning from the land.

    What about you? Do you have a favorite memory where hunting and fishing crossed paths? Drop it in the comments—I’d love to hear your story.

  • The “Dual Purpose” Hunting & Fishing Kit: Gear for Doing Both in One Trip

    The “Dual Purpose” Hunting & Fishing Kit: Gear for Doing Both in One Trip

    The kind of trips I look forward to most aren’t the big, week-long backcountry hauls. Don’t get me wrong, those are incredible in their own way, but there’s something simple and satisfying about rolling out of town each morning in the Gladiator, bow case in the bed , rod tube rattling in the storage box, and a thermos of coffee riding shotgun.

    That’s the beauty of hunting and fishing the same country. Some mornings you’re glassing pronghorn on the flats. By the time the sun’s high and the animals have bedded, you can be knee-deep in a creek, throwing hoppers at brown trout. The trick is having your gear dialed so you’re not constantly unpacking, sorting, or realizing you left your waders back at home.

    This is where the “dual purpose” kit shines—a truck-based system that makes it easy to switch from one pursuit to the other.

    Why Truck-Based Makes Sense

    My pronghorn unit this season was only about 30–40 minutes outside of town. It wasn’t the type of hunt where I needed to haul camp miles into the backcountry. Each day I’d drive out in the dark, hunt through the morning, and then, depending on how things went, either keep after it or slide down into a drainage and fish until evening.

    That style of trip isn’t about ultralight gear or shaving ounces—it’s about organization and efficiency. With the Gladiator set up right, I can pivot between hunting and fishing without wasting time digging through a mess.

    Hunting Loadout: Grab and Go

    On the driver’s side of the bed rack sits one of my Roam 128L cases with the lid organizers, dedicated to hunting gear. It keeps everything sealed, dust-free, and ready:

    Weapon of Choice: Bow in a hard case. I use a Pelican hard case with the foam cut to fit my bow and stabilizers so I don’t worry about bumps on rough two-tracks. Day Pack: Already packed with knife, rangefinder, snacks, and water. Optics: Bino harness is basically on me at all times though these hunts. Spotter and tripod tuck into the case. Kill Kit: Small bag with game bags, replaceable-blade knife, paracord, and gloves. A cooler with ice waits in the Gladiator bed for when things go right.

    Most mornings I’d park along a dirt road, grab my pack and bow, and slip into the sage before first light. The world feels wide open then—sky turning pink over the plains, coyotes yipping in the distance, the Gladiator fading behind me as I hike in.

    Glasses up this unique wide buck pushing his herd in the morning.

    Fishing Loadout: Ready When the Hunt Pauses

    The passenger side Roam case holds the fishing gear, sealed up and dust-proof:

    Rod : A 4-piece 5-weight, in a rod tube so it doesn’t get crushed. Sling Pack: One fly box (dries, nymphs, streamers), 4x and 5x tippet, floatant, and nippers. Waders & Boots: Rolled and stashed in a mesh bag inside the case. On warm afternoons, I just wet-wade. Net: I like running a larger net to make missed scoops for fish a minimum.

    By late morning, if pronghorn weren’t cooperating, I’d be back at the Gladiator swapping camo for a sling pack. In less than 10 minutes, I’d be on the water, roll casting under willows or drifting a nymph through riffles.


    From bow case to rod tube—brown trout on the line by noon.

    The Overlap Gear

    Some things stay in the Gladiator full-time:

    Headlamp: In the center console, always charged. First Aid Kit: Cuts from broadheads and hooks don’t care which pursuit you were on. Rain Jacket: Rolled up behind the seat—because high plains storms roll in fast. Coolers: One for food and drinks, another for game quarters or trout if I keep a couple for the pan.

    That overlap gear is what keeps the system seamless—whether it’s a pre-dawn stalk or a late evening bite.

    A Day in the Life of the Dual Purpose Kit

    One day this season summed it all up. I was parked on a ridge at first light, watching a herd of pronghorn out beyond 600 yards. The wind wasn’t in my favor, and after two blown stalks, I eased back to the Gladiator by 10 a.m., sweaty, dusty, and a little frustrated.

    Instead of calling it quits, I popped open the fishing case, grabbed my rod tube and sling pack, and drove 15 minutes to a creek winding through a cottonwood draw. By noon, I was knee-deep in cold water, watching brown trout rise in the shade.

    The first fish came on a hopper pattern, a strong wild brown that darted under cutbanks and pulled harder than I expected. Sitting on the tailgate afterward, sandwich in hand, and waders in the sun, I couldn’t help but laugh. Two worlds in one day, both made possible by keeping the right gear squared away in the Gladiator.

    Final Thoughts

    The dual purpose kit isn’t about carrying more—it’s about carrying smart. With a little organization, your Gladiator becomes a rolling basecamp, with each Roam case dedicated to a pursuit and the overlap gear tying it all together.

    Next time you head out to hunt, slip the rod tube into its case. Pack a cooler with ice. Keep those storage cases squared away. You never know if the day’s story ends with a stalk on the flats or a brown trout tugging at the end of your line—but with the right setup, you’ll be ready for both.

    This post may contain affiliate links, which means I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. I only recommend gear I’ve tested and trust, and these commissions help support the blog.

  • Prepping for a High-Plains Archery Hunt

    Prepping for a High-Plains Archery Hunt

    There’s nothing subtle about the high plains. It’s big, open, windswept country that doesn’t give you much to work with. At first glance, it looks simple — wide sage flats, rolling breaks, grass that seems to stretch forever. Step out into it, though, and you realize just how deceiving it is. Distances double, cover disappears, and before long you’re sweating, breathing hard, and wondering why you didn’t pick a hunt in the timber instead.

    That’s exactly why I’m heading there. It’s tough, it’s raw, and it doesn’t hand out freebies. If you’re going to get a shot, you’re going to earn it.

    Conditioning

    The ground looks flat until you’re actually on it. Then it feels like a treadmill set on “forever.” You spot an animal that looks a half-mile away, and two miles later you’re still pushing, legs burning, lungs working, and your brain doing the math on how much water you have left.

    To prep, I’ve been throwing a weighted pack on and putting in the miles. Not glamorous, but it’s better than realizing on day two that my legs don’t want to play anymore. My goal is simple: when the chance finally comes, I don’t want to be doubled over sucking air.

    Shooting Practice

    If there’s one guarantee, it’s that the shot will not be perfect. Odds are, I’ll be kneeling on a cactus, the wind will be doing laps around me, and my heart will be pounding from a mad dash to close the gap. That’s the high plains way.

    So my practice has been about making the ugly shots feel normal. Longer distances, awkward angles, and plenty of arrows when the conditions aren’t ideal. If I can feel steady when things are sloppy, I’ll be ready when it counts.

    Mindset

    This is the section where most people would say “stay positive.” But let’s be real: high-plains hunting isn’t exactly designed to keep your spirits up. You’ll blow stalks. The animals will pick you off like they’ve got binoculars of their own. The wind will betray you right when you think you’ve got it made.

    And that’s fine. I know going in I’ll fail more than I’ll succeed. The trick is being stubborn enough to laugh it off and go again. Every busted stalk is just practice for the one that works.

    Why It Matters

    I don’t come out here for comfort. If I wanted that, I’d stay home where the weather doesn’t flip from blazing sun to sideways rain in five minutes. Out here, the wind stings, the sun bakes, and when a thunderstorm rolls in, you get soaked to the bone before you can even pull a rain jacket on. And weirdly enough, that’s part of the fun.

    The plains have a way of humbling you, but also giving you stories you wouldn’t trade. Like the time you belly-crawled through cactus for nothing, or sat under a yucca during a lightning show wondering if you’d just made a very bad life decision. It’s miserable in the moment, but it’s the stuff you laugh about later.

    That’s why I keep coming back. The grind, the blown stalks, the weather that doesn’t play fair — it’s all part of the story. When it finally does come together, it’s not just about the shot. It’s about the miles, the mistakes, and the madness it took to get there.

    The hunt hasn’t started yet, but the work already has.

  • Backcountry Meals That Actually Taste Good — Quick Tips + Favorites from Elk Creek

    Backcountry Meals That Actually Taste Good — Quick Tips + Favorites from Elk Creek

    If you’ve done enough nights in the backcountry, you know the drill: tear open a foil pouch, add hot water, wait, and hope for the best. Most of the time you get something that’s… edible. It fills the hole, but it’s not exactly a meal you’d rave about.

    On our latest Elk Creek trip, we decided to step it up. We wanted meals that tasted good enough to look forward to after a long day on trail — or better yet, that we’d actually eat at home. With a little pre-trip planning, we pulled together a small but mighty menu that made mornings warmer, afternoons easier, and dinners something worth lingering over.

    Breakfast That Feels Like a Win

    For mornings, Peak Refuel Biscuits & Gravy was our hands-down favorite. It’s hearty without being greasy, and the gravy actually has flavor — peppery and savory instead of bland and watery. The biscuits keep their texture surprisingly well after rehydrating, so you’re not eating mush.

    We’ve found that Peak Refuel in general has some of the best freeze-dried flavor and texture out there, so we rely on them for most breakfasts and dinners. That includes post-hike comfort food like their Chicken Coconut Curry — rich, creamy, and a little spicy, it’s the perfect warm-up after a chilly day on the trail. Whether it’s Biscuits & Gravy to start the day or curry by the fire at night, they make it easy to eat well without hauling heavy ingredients.

    Coffee That Hits the Spot Every Time

    We brought Café Bustelo instant coffee packets, and honestly, I might never go back to the “specialty” backpacking coffees. Bustelo is strong, smooth, and actually tastes like coffee instead of brown water. It’s pre-measured, which makes mornings brainless — just rip, dump into your mug, and fire up the Jetboil.

    The Jetboil made coffee duty quick even on chilly Elk Creek mornings when every second outside the sleeping bag feels like a test of willpower. By the time the water boiled, the smell alone was enough to make us forget how cold it was.

    Snacks That Pull Double Duty

    For midday fuel or a quick pick-me-up before setting up camp, Honey Stinger Nut + Seed Bars were our go-to. They’re a nice change from the usual overly sweet energy bars — with a nutty, slightly salty profile and just enough honey to keep things interesting.

    Each bar packs a solid mix of protein, healthy fats, and carbs, so they actually keep you going instead of giving you a sugar spike and crash. Plus, they don’t melt or crumble in your pack, even after a long, hot day.

    Our favorite flavors from the trip: Almond Pumpkin Seed for a treat-like feel, and Oat + Honey for mornings when you want something lighter but still filling. We’d eat one mid-morning, then another later in the afternoon before our dinner prep — and between that and the Peak Refuel meals, we stayed fueled without feeling weighed down.

    A Few Backcountry Meal Tips from the Trail

    1. Pack calorie-dense food.

    Every ounce in your pack matters, but so does how many calories it gives you. Look for meals with 100+ calories per ounce to keep you fueled without adding unnecessary weight.

    2. Test meals before your trip.

    What tastes okay in your kitchen can taste totally different after a long hike — and vice versa. We try at least one serving at home before committing to bringing it on trail.

    3. Don’t skimp on seasonings.

    A tiny packet of hot sauce or a sprinkle of your favorite spice mix can make even the most basic meal taste like something special. They weigh almost nothing, and the morale boost is real.

    4. Think about cleanup.

    At the end of the day, your energy is low and daylight is short. One-pot meals or just-add-water pouches mean you spend less time scrubbing and more time resting (or watching the stars).

    5. Bring a mix of comfort food and fuel food.

    You need calories and protein, yes — but having one “fun” snack or treat each day keeps spirits high, especially on long treks.

    Bottom Line

    The right food makes the backcountry feel less like “survival mode” and more like living well in the wild. On Elk Creek, Peak Refuel for breakfast and dinner (especially that Chicken Coconut Curry), strong coffee in our mugs, nut + seed bars in our packs, and easy cleanup routines meant more time to enjoy the views, watch the river, and linger by the fire.

    Because when your meals are good, you’re not just hiking — you’re actually enjoying being out there.

    Grab the Checklist

    If you want to skip the guesswork, we put together a simple, printable Backcountry Meal Packing List with everything we brought to Elk Creek — breakfasts, coffee, snacks, dinners, and the little essentials that make camp life easier. Print it, check it off as you pack, and you’re trail-ready without overthinking it.

    backcountry_meal_packing_list.pdfDownload

    This post may contain affiliate links, which means I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. I only recommend gear I’ve tested and trust, and these commissions help support the blog.

  • Five Days, a Fly Rod, and the South San Juan Backcountry

    Five Days, a Fly Rod, and the South San Juan Backcountry

    “When the rain comes every afternoon, and the trout still rise, you learn quick what matters and what you can leave behind.”

    There’s a certain kind of quiet you only get when you’re miles from the nearest road. It’s not just the lack of engines or voices — it’s the way the air feels unclaimed, the way your own footsteps sound out of place. For five days and four nights, my wife, my brother, and I carried everything we needed on our backs and followed a narrow ribbon of trail into the South San Juan Wilderness to fish one of its tucked-away creeks.

    This wasn’t a trophy hunt. We weren’t chasing records or numbers. We were there for the rhythm — the hiking, the camp chores, the stubborn little fish that make you earn every strike.

    Thick timber surrounded the trail until we reached the open meadows.

    The Route & the Climb

    We kept the mileage light — about 14 miles total for the whole trip — which gave us time to fish and explore without feeling like we were racing the trail. The climb out of the valley was steep in sections, but we’d stop often: sometimes to catch our breath, sometimes just because the light hit the mountains in a way that made us want to stand still and watch. By the second day, it felt like we were moving inside our own small world, our pace set by the creek and the weather instead of a clock.

    Combination of rain, graupel, and sunshine on the hike out.

    Rain, Graupel, and Unplanned Pauses

    If you spend enough time in the high country, you start to recognize the afternoon storm pattern: blue sky in the morning, clouds by lunch, rain by mid-afternoon. This trip didn’t follow the script. Rain came whenever it felt like it — a drizzle over breakfast, a sideways downpour in the middle of a promising run. Twice, the clouds even dropped graupel — tiny ice pellets that bounced off our jackets and hissed on the creek’s surface, like the mountains were flicking pebbles at us.

    We learned quickly to be opportunists: fish hard when the sky was clear, keep a rain jacket within arm’s reach, and accept that sometimes the best decision was to sit under a spruce and watch the storm burn itself out.

    One of the healthy medium sized browns during a rainstorm.

    Low Water, Spooky Fish

    This year’s creek was thin and glassy, the kind of water where your shadow alone could blow a hole in a pool. The trout were edgy — one misplaced step and the whole run would go silent. But that’s the challenge of late-summer fishing in the backcountry. We downsized our approach until it felt almost surgical: a small midge dropped under a dry, light tippet, short drifts in the soft edges of the current.

    We didn’t rack up numbers — maybe six fish between the two of us who fished — but each one was perfect in its own way. Deep orange fins. Small speckles scattered like constellations. When you know the odds are against you, even a single rise feels like a win.

    Encounters Along the Way

    Wildlife out here doesn’t always come charging into view — most of it slips in quietly if you’re paying attention. We spotted mule deer moving through the meadows in the cool mornings, a few curious marmots sunning themselves on boulders, birds of prey riding thermals overhead, and plenty of fresh elk sign. Even without seeing one, you could feel their presence in the landscape.

    A colorful sunset after a day of gray rainy skies.

    The Reward in the Work

    Backcountry trips don’t feel like vacations. They’re a mix of sore feet, damp clothes, and problem-solving on the fly. You work for everything — water, warmth, shelter — and that work changes the way you experience the place.

    For me, the best part wasn’t the fish (though they were beautiful) or the scenery (which was almost too much to take in at times). It was the shared effort. Cooking under the tarp with rain hammering above us. Trading jokes on the trail to make the climbs easier. Handing over the first cup of coffee in the morning before the day had decided what it was going to throw at us.

    That’s the thing about the South San Juan — it’ll make you work, but if you bring the right people with you, the work turns into something you’ll want to do all over again.

    Have you fished remote backcountry streams in bad weather? Did the fish change their behavior — or was it you who had to?

    Gear Notes

    • Rod, Reel & Line: 9’ 5-weight, floating line for versatility in variable conditions.

    • Leader/Tippet: 9’ 5x leader with 6x fluorocarbon for the dropper to keep drifts subtle.

    • Flies: #20–22 midges under a #14–16 dry (Parachute Adams or small Stimulator). The dry-dropper rig kept the presentation natural and gave us a visual on subtle takes.

    • Rain Gear: Lightweight shell that stayed in the top of the pack for quick grabs — essential for those graupel blasts.

    • Camp Essentials: Compact stove, Lightweight Bivy Tent, Backpacking Tarp for cooking during storms/gear tent, and a good water filter (even the clearest creeks can hide trouble).

    This post may contain affiliate links, which means I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. I only recommend gear I’ve tested and trust, and these commissions help support the blog.

  • Between Snowmelt and Sunsets: The Magic of June Fly Fishing in Colorado

    Between Snowmelt and Sunsets: The Magic of June Fly Fishing in Colorado

    There’s a brief and beautiful window in Colorado when the rivers start to breathe again. Snow still clings to the peaks, but the valleys below are coming alive. The current slows just enough to invite a clean drift. Trout are hungry. Insects are waking up. And for the fly angler, June feels like a long exhale after the wild, rushing runoff of spring.

    You don’t need perfect conditions in June. You just need to be present.

    Chasing the Edge of Runoff

    Across Colorado, June is a season of transition. Runoff doesn’t end all at once—it recedes bit by bit, river by river, basin by basin. This is the time to scout smaller creeks, tailwaters, and edges of high mountain lakes where clarity is returning and trout are shaking off their winter rhythms.

    Success often comes not from chasing reports, but from hiking a little farther, watching the water closely, and reading the signs: a swirl beneath an overhanging branch, a mayfly skittering just above the surface, or that subtle flash in a deep run.

    Patterns for the Moment

    The bugs aren’t waiting anymore. In many waters across the state, you’ll start to see:

    Caddis Hatches in the evenings—bringing fish up top and lighting up the last two hours of daylight. Golden Stones beginning to crawl from the banks—especially on freestones and rocky pocket water. Midges and small mayflies lingering on tailwaters—subtle, but deadly in clear, slow flows.

    And of course, it’s never too early to toss something big and foamy. Chubbies and stimulators have already started turning heads, especially in the faster seams and riffles.

    A good June fly box balances finesse with boldness. One moment calls for a size 20 midge pupa, the next a size 10 hopper dropped on a foam line. Flexibility wins.

    The Gift of Long Days

    One of the underrated joys of fly fishing in June is time. With daylight stretching well past dinner, you can fish dawn to dusk without a rush. Whether you’re backpacking into alpine lakes or slipping out for an after-work session, June rewards those who linger.

    You’ll often find the river to yourself after 7 p.m., with trout sipping dries in the shadows and the wind finally settling. Bring a light jacket, a thermos of coffee (or something stronger), and give yourself permission to stay a little longer.

    A Season for Exploration

    June isn’t about chasing trophies or ticking boxes—it’s about covering ground and reconnecting with water that was frozen or flooded just weeks ago. It’s about watching as the world reopens and finding your rhythm in it again.

    So lace up your boots. Pack that rod in the backseat. Throw a few essentials in the vest and go see what the water has to say.

    Sometimes, the best cast of the day happens when you least expect it.

    Until next time, keep your flies dry and your campfire stories close.

    🎣 Share your favorite June fly fishing moment in the comments, or tag @SummitAndStreamAdventures on Instagram—we’d love to see where the water’s taken you this season.

    And if you’re planning a trip soon, subscribe to the blog so you don’t miss our upcoming backcountry gear list and high-elevation hatch guide.

    — Summit and Stream Adventures

  • Backcountry Fly Fishing Tips for Colorado Adventurers

    Backcountry Fly Fishing Tips for Colorado Adventurers

    Backcountry Fly Fishing in Colorado: A Hardcore Angler’s Paradise

    Fly fishing in Colorado is already world-class. But if you really want to get away from the crowds, find untouched waters, and catch wild fish that rarely see a fly, you head into the backcountry. That’s where Colorado turns into a paradise for anglers who are willing to put in the work. If you’re up for hiking, camping, and navigating remote terrain, backcountry fly fishing in Colorado offers solitude, adventure, and some of the most rewarding fishing you’ll ever experience.

    Here’s what you need to know to do it right.

    Why Go Backcountry?

    Let’s get one thing straight: this isn’t about catching the biggest fish. It’s about experience. Hiking into remote alpine lakes or headwater streams, setting up camp miles from the nearest road, and casting to wild trout in gin-clear water—that’s what it’s about.

    Here’s what you get in the backcountry:

    Unpressured fish: These trout don’t see many anglers. They’re wild, aggressive, and more likely to hit a well-presented fly. Solitude: You’re not shoulder-to-shoulder with other anglers. Often, you won’t see another soul. Stunning scenery: Think jagged peaks, alpine meadows, glacial lakes, and clear-flowing creeks. Adventure: This isn’t a grab-your-rod-and-go spot. You’re earning it with sweat and effort.

    If you’re looking for an Instagram-friendly lodge and a hot meal at the end of the day, this isn’t it. If you’re looking for peace, challenge, and pure fishing, keep reading.

    When to Go

    The Colorado high country doesn’t open up until late spring or early summer. Snow lingers in the mountains, and access roads and trails often remain impassable until mid-June. In general:

    Best time: Late June to mid-September Early season (June/early July): Expect snowmelt, high flows, and cold temps. Peak season (late July to August): Stable weather, good insect hatches, prime fishing. Late season (September): Crisp days, fewer bugs, spooky fish, changing leaves.

    Plan around the snowpack and monsoon season. Afternoon thunderstorms are common in July and August, especially above treeline, so start your hikes early and always keep an eye on the weather.

    Where to Go: Top Backcountry Fly Fishing Destinations in Colorado

    Backcountry fishing means getting beyond the trailhead. Some of these places take hours of hiking. Others require multi-day backpacking trips. All are worth it.

    1. Indian Peaks Wilderness

    Location: Just west of Boulder Target species: Cutthroat, brook trout, rainbow Why it’s great: Dozens of alpine lakes and headwater streams within a few hours of Denver. Trails are well-maintained. Popular with hikers but easy to find solitude with a bit of effort. Top spots: Upper Coney Lake, Jasper Lake, Buchanan Pass area

    2. Holy Cross Wilderness

    Location: Near Vail and Leadville Target species: Native cutthroat, brook trout Why it’s great: Remote, scenic, and packed with small lakes teeming with trout. Good multi-day loop options. Top spots: Tuhare Lakes, Fancy Lake, Missouri Lakes Basin

    3. Flat Tops Wilderness

    Location: Northwest Colorado Target species: Colorado River cutthroat, brook trout Why it’s great: The heart of Colorado’s backcountry fishing. Endless creeks and lakes, with miles of trail access. Less crowded than Front Range options. Top spots: Trappers Lake (base camp), Derby Creek, Little Trappers Lake

    4. Weminuche Wilderness

    Location: San Juan Mountains, southern Colorado Target species: Rio Grande cutthroat, brook trout, rainbow Why it’s great: Colorado’s largest wilderness area. Big elevation, big views, and remote fishing. Top spots: Vallecito Creek, Needle Creek, Chicago Basin

    5. Rocky Mountain National Park (RMNP)

    Location: North-central Colorado Target species: Greenback cutthroat (native), brook trout Why it’s great: RMNP is home to some of the most scenic backcountry fishing in the state. Greenback cutthroat restoration has brought new life to these waters. Top spots: Thunder Lake, Fern Lake, upper sections of the Big Thompson

    What You’ll Need: Backcountry Fly Fishing Gear Checklist

    You’re combining backpacking with fly fishing, which means weight and simplicity matter. Here’s a gear list broken down into essentials:

    Fishing Gear

    Fly rod: 3–5 wt, 8–9 ft. A 4-piece rod is easiest to pack. Reel: Lightweight, with a smooth drag. Nothing fancy needed. Line: Weight-forward floating line. Leader & tippet: 5X or 6X works fine for small alpine trout. Flies: Dries: Parachute Adams, Elk Hair Caddis, Royal Wulff, Ants, Hoppers. Nymphs: Hare’s Ear, Pheasant Tail, Copper John Streamers: Woolly Bugger (black or olive) Accessories: Nippers, hemostats, floatant, fly box, small net (optional), polarized sunglasses

    Backpacking Gear

    Pack: 45-65L pack depending on trip length Tent: Lightweight 1- or 2-person tent Sleep system: 20–30°F sleeping bag + sleeping pad. Stove: Canister stove (Jetboil or similar) Water: Filter or purifier (don’t skip this) Food: Lightweight, high-calorie meals (dehydrated meals work great) Clothes: Layers, rain shell, warm hat, gloves Footwear: Waterproof hiking boots; optional lightweight sandals for wet wading Other: Map, compass/GPS, first-aid kit, headlamp, sunscreen, bear hang or canister

    If you’re fishing lakes and small streams, you can usually wet wade. But in colder months or higher elevations, pack breathable waders and lightweight boots if you need them.

    Tips for Success in the Backcountry

    1. Hike smart, fish smarter

    Get an early start to avoid storms. Fish early or late in the day when the trout are active. Midday sun often shuts them down.

    2. Pack light, think smart

    Every ounce counts. Multi-use gear is your friend. You don’t need a dozen fly boxes—just a small selection of proven patterns.

    3. Know the regulations

    Many backcountry areas are catch-and-release only. Some have fly-and-lure-only rules. Others are part of native trout recovery zones. Check with Colorado Parks & Wildlife or local forest service offices.

    4. Respect the fish and the land

    Keep fish wet. Don’t trample spawning beds. Pack out what you pack in. These places are wild and fragile.

    5. Don’t underestimate the wild

    Weather shifts fast. Wildlife is out there. Always tell someone where you’re going and carry a map or GPS. Backcountry fly fishing isn’t just about the fish—it’s survival, too.

    Planning a Trip: Logistics and Strategy

    Access: Many trailheads are down dirt roads that may require 4WD or high clearance. Always check road conditions and bring paper maps—cell service disappears fast.

    Permits: Most wilderness areas don’t require permits for small groups, but always double-check. Some high-use areas have overnight restrictions.

    Time: You can do some of these lakes and streams as day hikes, but the best experiences usually come from staying a night or two.

    Route planning: Use tools like CalTopo, AllTrails, or Gaia GPS to plan routes, measure mileage, and check elevation gain. Remember: 5 miles on a map can feel like 10 with a full pack at 11,000 feet.

    A Sample 3-Day Itinerary: Indian Peaks Wilderness

    Day 1

    Drive to Monarch Lake trailhead Hike 5.5 miles to Crater Lake Set up camp, fish the lake for aggressive brookies and cutthroat

    Day 2

    Day hike to Mirror Lake and Pawnee Pass Fish high alpine lakes and streams Return to camp for sunset and maybe a last cast

    Day 3

    Early morning fishing session Break camp and hike out Beer and burger in Nederland

    Final Thoughts

    Backcountry fly fishing in Colorado isn’t for everyone. It takes work. It takes time. It takes a little bit of suffering.

    But if you’re willing to earn it, there’s nothing like it.

    You’ll catch wild fish in wild places. You’ll find silence, stars, and a connection to nature that’s getting harder to find in the modern world. And you’ll come back with stories worth telling—not just of fish caught, but of places explored and challenges met.

    So grab your rod, lace up your boots, and get out there.

    The backcountry’s waiting.

    This post may contain affiliate links, which means I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. I only recommend gear I’ve tested and trust, and these commissions help support the blog.

  • The Mental Benefits of Fly Fishing: Finding Peace on the Water

    The Mental Benefits of Fly Fishing: Finding Peace on the Water

    Fly fishing is more than just a way to catch fish—it’s a form of therapy. For many anglers, stepping into a cold mountain stream and casting a line isn’t just about the pursuit of trout; it’s about disconnecting from the chaos of everyday life and reconnecting with nature. The mental health benefits of fly fishing are profound, offering a sense of calm, focus, and fulfillment that few other activities can match.

    1. The Power of Presence

    Fly fishing demands focus. From reading the water and selecting the right fly to perfecting the cast and detecting subtle strikes, the sport requires complete attention. This level of engagement naturally pushes out distractions, quieting the mind in a way that’s similar to meditation. When you’re fully present in the moment, stress and anxiety fade into the background, replaced by a sense of peace and clarity.

    2. The Stress-Relieving Effect of Nature

    Studies have shown that spending time in nature reduces cortisol levels and promotes mental well-being. The rhythmic sounds of a river, the rustling of trees, and the sight of a rising trout create a sensory experience that soothes the mind. Fly fishing immerses anglers in some of the most beautiful and remote places in the world, offering a break from the constant noise of modern life.

    3. A Meditative Flow State

    There’s a certain rhythm to fly fishing—the back-and-forth motion of the cast, the gentle mend of the line, the patience of waiting for a strike. This repetitive motion and deep focus can induce a “flow state,” a psychological condition where time seems to slow down, and the mind is completely absorbed in the task. Flow states are linked to increased happiness and reduced stress, making fly fishing a natural way to achieve mental clarity.

    4. A Sense of Accomplishment and Confidence

    Success in fly fishing—whether it’s landing a fish, mastering a new casting technique, or simply learning to read the water—builds confidence. Even on slow days, problem-solving and adapting to conditions create a sense of achievement. That feeling of accomplishment carries over into other aspects of life, reinforcing resilience and a positive mindset.

    5. Social Connection and Camaraderie

    While fly fishing can be a solitary pursuit, it also fosters a strong sense of community. Sharing the water with friends, exchanging stories about the one that got away, or mentoring a beginner can all provide meaningful social interactions. These connections help combat feelings of isolation and strengthen mental well-being.

    6. A Natural Antidote to Digital Overload

    In an age where screens dominate our attention, fly fishing offers a much-needed escape. With no cell service on a remote river and no need for notifications, the experience forces anglers to unplug and engage with the real world. That break from technology allows the brain to reset, reducing mental fatigue and improving overall mood.

    Final Thoughts

    Fly fishing is more than just a hobby—it’s a mental reset, a form of meditation, and a way to reconnect with both nature and oneself. Whether you’re standing knee-deep in a rushing river or casting to rising trout on a stillwater lake, the benefits extend far beyond the catch. The next time life feels overwhelming, grab your fly rod, head to the water, and let the river do its work.