Where passion meets purpose: Join TU Expeditions

TU Expeditions — Applications now open

At just five years old, I was encouraged to embrace every opportunity. That’s how I found myself gripping a fly rod nearly twice my height, casting it once and never looking back.

Ten years later, fly fishing was still a huge part of my life. I had learned to tie my own flies, traveled across the country to fish, studied everything from thermoclines to monofilament, and spent countless hours on my home river.

But I would be lying if I said it was easy to find my place in the fly fishing community. More often than not, I was the only girl on the river or the only person under thirty in a fly-tying class. Some guides refused to take me out, saying I was too weak or too young. And most teenagers I knew associated fly fishing with something their grandfather did—if they had even heard of it at all.

Trout Unlimited never seemed like an option. I didn’t know how to sign up, and I was too nervous to go alone. But when a post about a high school expedition popped up on my Instagram feed, I remembered the advice I had been given ten years earlier, and I decided to apply.

Just a little over two months later, I found myself at the Medford, Oregon, airport. For the first time in my life, I was surrounded by a group of like-minded teens. I used to get excited when someone simply knew what fly fishing was, but now I found myself huddled under a tarp in pouring rain, having conversations about indicators and brown trout fishing on the White River. I didn’t truly understand the impact of Trout Unlimited at this point, but I knew I wanted to be part of it.

In the right place

The next week only confirmed that feeling. At the heart of the week was the Klamath River, the focus of the largest river restoration project happening today. I started researching the Klamath when I was accepted, but at the time, it seemed so far away, slightly fictional. Standing on its banks, seeing the landscape, and, more importantly, meeting the people involved brought everything to life.

During the first several days, we were excitedly introduced to the undamming, the sowing of native plants, salmon populations, fencing, the aquatic ecosystem, and over a hundred other aspects of the project—and that was only the beginning.

The people working on the Klamath truly care. It’s obvious, and it’s refreshing. In a world that seems to be moving forward so quickly, I found it inspiring to see a place where the original landscape and culture are not being replaced but renewed with such dedication and quality. What struck me most was how many different people, from different fields and backgrounds, were working together toward a common goal—with so much passion and excitement that it was contagious.

Local TU members took us out and showed us the best fishing holes and shared their best fish stories like any true angler would. A member of a local tribe told us of the tradition that took place on the river prior to the damming and the significance it held in their culture.

The Klamath was bringing people together; it was making history. And I will be forever grateful that I have had the opportunity to be a part of it.

Having a real impact

Of course, learning about the river and its restoration was one thing—but the real impact came when we got our hands dirty. That’s when the work stopped being abstract and became something I could touch, measure and see making a difference in real time.

With such amazing teachers and an even greater purpose, the hours spent soaking wet and muddy on our knees seemed to fly by. Well, maybe not fly—they were hard. The work was hot, exhausting, and sometimes frustrating, but it was still the highlight of the trip for me. Building BDAs (beaver dam analogs) was the first time I felt like I had a real impact on the environment, and that feeling was contagious.

Some people find joy when a blank canvas bursts with color, or when a page fills with words. For me, it was looking at a stream, a pile of natural materials, and a finished dam I knew would make a difference. It’s easy to talk about conservation, but much harder to do it—and the feeling of doing it is something nothing else can replace.

My expedition didn’t feel like a summer camp; it felt real and authentic. Every morning, I woke up ready to feel like a project manager, engineer, biologist or conservation worker. We were given real-life experiences to give back and explore a catalog of interesting careers. Since the age of five I knew I liked to fish, but through this experience I learned how my passion could develop into a career. The expedition opened many doors for me that I can’t wait to explore throughout high school and college.

Without a doubt, the experiences and knowledge I gained on this trip will stay with me for a lifetime, but what truly made it unforgettable were the people. Every individual brought something unique—whether it was humor, encouragement or simply the willingness to jump in and try. It would have been easy to retreat to a tent each afternoon after long, tiring hours in the field, yet instead the atmosphere was always alive with energy. The group created a sense of community that was both welcoming and fun, making even the hardest moments something I looked forward to.

TU is so much more

Before this trip, I thought of Trout Unlimited simply as a group of people who enjoyed talking about fishing. My perspective has completely changed. Yes, Trout Unlimited is a community of anglers, but it is also so much more. It is an organization dedicated to conservation, preservation and the education of others about our public lands and natural resources.

I met so many people who have devoted their lives to protecting the planet so younger generations like mine can continue to enjoy it. Through this experience, my gratitude for Trout Unlimited, for the land itself and for my peers grew tremendously. Without it, I would never have understood the true depth of what Trout Unlimited represents. And now, I know this is only the beginning of my own Trout Unlimited journey.