Tag Archives: Cameron Mortenson


From the Monday I received Kevin Morlock’s email inviting me to fly fish for carp on Beaver Island, to the Wednesday when the wheels of the Britten Norman Islander barked on the island’s rolling, old blacktop runway, I had barely 9 days to prepare. I was supposed to be meeting four fellow anglers – Cameron Mortenson, Alex Landeen, Dan Frasier (Media editor at USACarppro), and John Arnold (scumliner Media/owner of Headhunters Fly Shop) – and our three guides – Kevin Morlock and Steve Martinez (Indigo Guide Service) and Austin Adduci (Grab Your Fly Charters). All great fishermen and great dudes to lose track of days on and off the water with. I arrived a couple days after the rest of the crew with one full duffel, more than enough fly gear, no carp experience or clue what to expect, and (since the guys were out chasing carp) no ride into town. Sitting on the concrete stoop outside the one-room, whitewashed terminal/shack at Welke Airport in the close-ringing mosquito buzz and heat of the island afternoon, I could not have been happier.

Britten Norman Islander

It’s a special place that greets you in a way that’s more familial than hospitable, and makes you feel at home, even though you’re nowhere near home. From the “Hey! You made it! Here, give me your bags” when I arrived at the Island Airways terminal in Charlevoix after a 9-hour drive, one minute before take-off, and the “Hey! You made it! Close the door so you don’t let the mosquitos in!” when I landed and walked into the rustic island terminal; to the impromptu and gracious 3-mile ride into town from the airport and fully narrated history and tour of the sleepy bayside town of St. James by Chuck and Sheila, a couple who thought nothing of helping this weary, ride-less traveler get to the Fisherman’s House; to the smiles and waves that came from every car, truck, bicycle, pedestrian, storefront, coffee shop, and residence I passed on the street the entire trip; to the graduation party invite we received from an island family who wanted to include us in celebrating their daughter’s milestone; to the amazing dinner prepared for us at the Stoney Acre Grill and great table- and bar-side conversation with Liam and Marylyn, the chef and his wife, who are also the owners; I had found America in one postage-stamp-sized village, on a slightly larger than postage-stamp-sized island, just a 15 minute flight out into a far larger than postage-stamp-sized Lake Michigan.

The view of St. James on the flight in. Photo credit: Alex Landeen

Of course, just as there is no one way to describe all of America, the town and the island are fittingly tough to pin-down as well. In town, cottage-homes, shops, docks, picket fences, fishing nets, weather vanes, lighthouses, dunes, fog, old boats and older marine artifacts reminded me of whitewash-and-cedar coastal New England. A pickup ride into the interior showed me a rambling maze of dirt roads, close-arched hardwoods and pines, dappled sun and heavy shade, hidden streams, sudden-appearing lakes, deer, turkey, cabins, and small, homestead farm plots that hinted at the Adirondacks or (oddly enough) Virginia or the Carolinas. Running the boats out of the bay, an archipelago of pristine, brush-tangled islands with names like Fox, High, Hog, Garden, Whiskey, Hat and Squaw, miles of almost-azure water, skinny, white-sand flats, lakes within giant, windward-side bays, tidal movement, cruising, tailing or laid-up fish, terns and gulls, a horizon and sky that are one-in-the-same, weather out of nowhere and an ever-present wind out of somewhere had the Keys on my mind. The island is one glorious juxtaposition. Like I said, America.

And then, of course, there’s the fishing. Not only is Beaver Island a beautiful getaway, it’s a world-class carp fishery where it’s not uncommon to have dozens of opportunities to spot-and-stalk or pole after 30+ pound fish on those Keys-like flats or deeper bays with a fly rod. Not to mention the inadvertent 5 – 7 pound smallmouth that often steal your fly just before your intended target noses down on it. Oh, and there’s pike, too. Diversity is a wonderful thing.

An it’s a diversity (both from a fish and situational/topographical standpoint) that Kevin, Steve and Austin are uncannily in-tune with. Not only do they know their fishery like the back of their weathered hands, they are also respected members of the community that they call home for 3+ months each year. In the two days before I arrived, the guys touched a decent number of fish (Alex, Cameron and John each covered those days very well on their blogs and Vimeo pages). In the days after, between the weather, visibility, wildly fluctuating water temps and spooky, finicky fish, there wasn’t a damn thing we could do but soldier on, and I managed to account for the only two carp hoisted.

My first. Certainly not my last. Photo credit: Alex Landeen

This being my first time after carp with a fly rod, here’s what I learned: they’re a pain in the ass to catch.

There are days where they grub like pigs in a full trough and your backing sees the light of day all day long, so I’m told. But then there are days, many days, days like we had at the tail-end of this trip, when those rubber lips are zipped and you can’t buy a sniff or follow, let alone an eat.

The difference between the two outcomes can be as simple as rising water temps, a falling barometer, some chop and some cloud-cover. Of course, favorable conditions don’t mean a thing if you can’t put the fly 5′ past and 5′ in front of the fish 20, 30, 50 feet away, as often as not into a 20 – 30 knot wind. Drop even the quietest blip of a cast inside that window and see what happens. I’d tell you, but it would ruin the surprise.

On the hunt. Sometimes with no wind. Photo credit: Alex Landeen

We waded, poled and rowed the windward side of points and bays, which sounded counterintuitive until I learned that the waves churn in the warmer water, and churn up the crayfish, gobies and other bottom-dwelling buffet items, which carp dig.

Poling or rowing around the bays we’d see unmistakable pods of them from 60-80 yards away, some cruising in pairs, some laid up by the half dozen. Standing on the shore, we’d watch big submarine-shadows appear in the troughs of the waves, or catch their silhouettes in relief against the light bottom as they patrolled the shore in string after string after string after string after frustrating string of non-interested bogeys. Hundreds of non-interested bogeys.

On our last day out, blue-bird skies and air temps heading into the mid-to-high 70’s arrived. Cameron and I were out with Austin and we spent the morning running from likely spot to likely spot trying to simply find fish. It wasn’t till after lunch that they finally started to materialize. Anchoring the boat and wading to shore, we snuck up to a small cut-back bay that held at least 80 fish tied in a giant black and golden-brown knot between the deeper mouth and the shallower backwater. After a couple hours, at least a dozen fly changes, and several futile moves to other spots along the point beyond, I managed to fool one that immediately headed for Traverse City. By way of Chicago. Thankfully he changed his mind and returned, grudgingly, for his photo-op.

Back from Chi-town

Beaver Island was a stellar fishing trip, but just as stellar a place to simply get away to. And it really is a special place that combines the two as seamlessly as the island does. As our time wound down Sunday morning and we were all packing and cleaning the place up, I don’t think any of us were really ready to give up the ghost. But I can tell you this: while I may have left grudgingly, I knew that I would return, happily. And if I’m lucky, with the same crew we had this go-around.

The boys. And the Fisherman's House.


Thanks go out to the generous sponsors of this trip:

William Joseph, Simms, Montana Fly Co., 12wt, Fishpond, Smith Optics, Patagonia, Howler Bros., Scientific Anglers, Bozeman Reel Co., Angela Lefevre & Island Airways, Liam & Marylyn at the Stoney Acre Grill, Steve West & the Beaver Island Chamber of Commerce, the Dalwhinnie Bakery & Deli, Bill McDonough who hosted us at the Fisherman’s House, Cameron Mortenson at TFM who co-hosted the trip with Kevin, Steve and Austin who put us on the fish that we did and did not catch.


Filed under On the water, The road


Hi, my name is Matt and I like trade shows.

True — I have not ridden an entire seasonal circuit (or two or ten) in a booth as an exhibitor. I haven’t been tethered by the short leash in-between Thursday set-up and Sunday tear-down. Haven’t had weekend after weekend of the always-entertaining-but-never-a-good-idea Friday and/or Saturday night carousing (well, since college and the service anyhow). I haven’t clocked hundreds of hours humping boxes of display hardware and gear, or logged countless winter windshield or business-class airline miles away from the family criss-crossing the country. I’m a rookie. I’m not yet jaded.

But I have roamed 4 of them under the guise of being The Media: IFTD in NOLA, Somerset, Denver and Somerset again just this past weekend. According to some – that’s three too many already. However, I made the latest trip to Jersey under significantly different circumstances. I was still a blog writer, yes – and had a whole lot of fellow writers, photographers, artists, anglers and humorists on my agenda to meet (as I’ve done at the other shows), as well as manufacturers, fly shop owners, fly tiers and other industry folks. I was also representing our film project – A Deliberate Life – that’s touring with IF4 and this particular trade show. And lastly, I was there as a member of the Thomas & Thomas fly fishing cohort, being the guy that runs their digital and social marketing initiatives among other things — the first time my association with them had been made public outside of personal conversations with friends.

To me the shows stand for more than just a necessary evil — they represent the community that our industry is starting to become (or return to, as may be the case). They represent the best and brightest and the young and hungry – which are, in many cases, one in the same. Independent spirit, entrepreneurial thinking and working that much harder (and smarter) to reach goals. They represent the time, energy and creativity that we’re putting into the future of our sport — brands, large and small, being active and engaged with communities, consumers and each other on far more personal levels, which I can only see extending to an increased willingness to lead by example, a push toward more sustainable business practices, and stronger, proactive efforts with regard to environmental stewardship.

I know there’ll be a time when it’ll fall to me to hold down the booth. When I’ll be the one responsible for humping boxes and logging all those miles. When I’m no longer a rookie. I know it. But that doesn’t much bother me. I’ll always be down for handshakes and beers with old friends and new acquaintances and talking about who-caught-what and where, if not actually getting out together and catching who-knows-what-wherever. I’ll always be down for the time and energy it takes to make a difference. Because, shit — this is the path I chose to follow. And when it comes right down to it, these are the good people I want to run that path with.

No, I’m not yet jaded.

Thankfully, that doesn’t mean I’m going to wind up that way either.

The usual suspects - photo by Rob Yaskovic

Scott and Chris putting Vedavoo on the map

Pat Cohen's deer hair stump

The full line-up of new T&T sticks

I wish they got that big in the Adirondacks

The Whitlock's beautiful set-up

Sporting books. My kind of library.


Filed under Uncategorized


I’m proud of my kids. They do well in school. They enjoy the sports they play. They’re respectful and generally keep their noses clean. But what makes me the most proud is their love of the outdoors…curiosity and wonder and freedom at it’s purest. And it’s important to me that I do everything I can to keep them excited and active and involved…because I know someday the outdoors will need them and their passion to respect and fight for the wild places that are left when I’m no longer on the planet.

Cameron Mortenson and Kevin Powell feel the same way. Which is why they started Fishy Kid, a web-based initiative to get kids and families excited about fly fishing and spending time together on the water. And also why I’m excited to be supporting their efforts with proceeds from fishingpoet t-shirt sales.fishy kid

I had the opportunity to ask Cameron a few questions about Fishy Kid and its place in the “take a kid fishing” world.

OK, let’s start with an easy one…what is Fishy Kid about? Why does it exist?
Fishy Kid is another way to reach the next generation of anglers, stewards, and outdoor enthusiasts and their families. Fishy Kid exists to inspire creativity and interest in all things fly fishing through education, contests, and giveaways.

You say on the site that it’s brought to us by two dads who love to play outside with their kids…any particular experience stand out as the catalyst for starting Fishy Kid?
Kevin Powell and I approached a few of our sporting artist friends early in 2009 with an idea about creating a coloring book that we intended to link off our personal blogs and spread it around the internet through other friends.  As the coloring book came together Kevin and I were so impressed with the quality of the pages and could immediately see the potential of where Fishy Kid could go that Kevin began work on the Fishy Kid website and I worked on gear sponsorships in order for us to give away some great gear away to those that joined and participated.

How is Fishy Kid different than other orgs that focus on getting kids outdoors?
Well…”organization” might be a little far off from what we are (laughing) but we do try to keep up with everything that is going on, promote the website, coloring book, and whatever contest we might be in the middle of.  The toughest part about working on Fishy Kid is finding the time to keep up with it. Kevin and I both have careers and families and sadly Fishy Kid becomes secondary for periods here and there.

I’d say the biggest difference so far is that, by design, we’re sticking pretty close to the fly fishing side of things, since there really aren’t as many youth initiatives within fly fishing. That way even if a child starts with a cricket and cork, the exposure is there for them pick up a fly rod and reel later on if they chose. It is also a great opportunity for our fly fishing sponsors to get their products into the hands of the youth in the sport, since many are designing gear that is specific to young fly fishing anglers, which is really neat.

How much of an effect do you think social media is having on getting people to care about getting outdoors, or to care about the outdoors, period?
The initial launch, promotion, and familiarity industry-wide about Fishy Kid would not have been possible without having social media as part of the equation. It really has been astounding to see how far-reaching ideas can be through the use of Facebook and Twitter and we really appreciate everyone that has spread the word about the website to their friends and family.

I think that social media, blogs, forums, and other areas of the internet provide an incredible amount of information and support for parents who then see other families outside camping, hiking, and fly fishing and realize that it really can be done. It just takes a little more thought process and preparation sometimes.

How important is it that the outdoors, or fishing specifically, be a part of our kids’ lives?
A neat realization for me as a father has been seeing how interested my own children are about being outside and as they get older want to fish as well. Fly fishing isn’t something that I’ll do alone ever again. My daughter or son will almost always be along for trips as well and it is really exciting to expose them to the different elements of this sport and help them understand how valuable the resources that we have are.

What’s been the biggest success you’ve had so far?
I’d have to say our biggest success so far has been the participation and continual growth of membership of the Fishy Kid website since it’s launch in July of 2009. And secondly, the support that the industry as a whole has given the Fishy Kid website from the start. We launched with a couple dozen gear sponsors and that has grown to almost one hundred sponsors in the past year and a half. We hope to see both grow this year.

Any big plans in the near (or relatively near) Fishy Kid future?
Admittedly we’ve started off kind of slow in 2011, but we do have a few plans for this year with a new saltwater-themed coloring book being released this summer, another fishing photo contest that will run through summer break. There’s a few other ideas bouncing around as well.

Fishy Kids in all 50 states yet? Any other countries?
I’m excited to say that Fishy Kid is worldwide! We have membership all over the place and we really try to keep that in mind when we plan a contest so that everyone can participate and be a part of the Fishy Kid website.


Is your kid a Fishy Kid? I know mine are…and it’s a very cool thing. Make sure you register when you visit their site – fishykid.org. It’s free and not only will you be able to get in on the fun, kid-centric contests and unbelievable prizes (they’ve given away a canoe, fly rods, waders and other great gear), you can also download the Fishy Kid coloring book…which is full of reknown artists drawings for your young’un to dress up with their crayons and markers. And remember, proceeds from the sale of fishingpoet t-shirts are going to Cam, Kevin and their Fishy Kid efforts.


Filed under Fatherhood and venison jerkey, On the water