Jess McGlothlin Travels

Updates on travels, adventures and news from Jess McGlothlin Media.

Jess McGlothlin Media

New Work: Ad for onX Hunt

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Jess McGlothlin upland hunting photograph in an ad for onX Hunt.Quick little post here. Like most of us, like has been fairly turned upside-down these past few weeks. As we all adjust to the new normal of COVID-19, I’ll still be posting a bit here, and certainly on my Instagram. This will pass, like most things do, and some day we’ll be traveling again. Until then, I’ll do my best to provide a little armchair travel on that Instagram feed.

In the meantime, here’s a quick look at a recently-published ad for onX Hunt, using an upland hunting image that was shot on assignment with onX autumn before last right here in Montana.

Stay safe and healthy out there! Here’s to enjoying travel and fishing through an entirely new lens once this passes.

Gear Talk: Chilean Camping “Field Office”

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I’ve gotten a lot of questions about this most recent trip to Chile regarding gear. Here’s a look at my “field office” one night; just off the water and backing up images as dusk falls.

Camping work station with tent, computer, camera gear and more with working photographer Jess McGlothlin in Chilean Patagonia.

The Big Agnes tent and Therm-a-Rest bag / pad served as a comfortable basecamp, and were easy to set up / take down as we changed locations nearly every night. My battered Pelican Professional case has been to six continents with me and served as a makeshift desk on most of them. MacBook Pro and a LaCie drive (I travel with two for three backups, including a temp one on the computer’s hard drive). Patagonia duffel and roll-top pack—still drying after wading deeply. My Orvis Fly Fishing wading jacket serves as a bit of insulation from the ground at the “desk” while Orvis PRO boots are drying outside the tent (the waders are drying in the bush beside the tent). And, of course, my Canon camera standing by. Another camera is in my hand, and a third is in the Pelican. An iPhone is also on the blue duffel, safely in a LifeProof case and ready to film camp shenanigans.

Quick look at a mobile camp while on assignment.

Not pictured: Skylar Lamont and Zach Lazzari pouring generous amounts of box wine and cooking up all kinds of meat for dinner.

On Island Time in Belize for the U.K.’s Fieldsports Magazine

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Image of tropical Belize from airplane window. Jess McGlothlin Media.

“The air is heavy with humidity and the playful scent of tropical flowers, mixing languidly with the scent of aviation fuel and the general bustle of Belize’s largest airport, Philip S. W. Goldson International, in Belize City. The open-air stroll into customs provides a welcome glance at what’s to come: Belize is delightfully casual. Things move on ‘island time’ in this Central American country, and the airport experience is a part of that. I’m quick to find a seat at Jett’s Bar, the bustling airport bar run by diminutive, wizened Jett, and settle in to wait for the short Tropic Air flight to San Pedro.”

The U.K.’s Fieldsports Journal is one of my favorite publications to work with. The magazine itself is gorgeous—thick, heavy paper printed with intense colors, the binding sturdy. Each issue reads more like a mini-book than a magazine, and shows in my mailbox carefully nestled in cardboard packaging. Quality, all around. The editors are lovely, and I delve through each issue—whether or not I have an article placed—with excitement.

Story and images about fly fishing in Belize at El Pescador Lodge.

In this most recent issue, I wrote up a few words about Belize escapes. I’ve been down to the Central American country three times now, each time bringing very different experiences and new lessons both on and off the water. But there’s a relaxed “go slow” island vibe I fall in love with a little more each trip. I tried to sum it up in the closing paragraph of this most recent article:

“After a long day on the boat (most full-day fishing trips run eight hours) it’s back to the lodge for Permit underwater and the dock of El Pescador Lodge, Belize.appetizers and cold drinks. Bartender Mariano runs the bustling El Pescador bar, serving up a mean Belizean Painkiller crafted from pineapple juice, orange juice, and spiced rum, with a few special additions. As is traditional at any fishing destination around the world, fish stories are exchanged over drinks and bar games; tales of near-misses and photo proof of the ones that didn’t get away. Later, dinner is served informally at the open-air tables dotting the deck, and newfound friends find themselves seated at the long tables, exchanging fishing tales from Belize and beyond. The tropic air of the Caribbean softens at night yet rarely loses its warmth or humidity, and once the revelry at the bar ebbs anglers find their way back to their rooms, ready to rise again in the morning and do it all again.”

Talking Tasmanian Trout in Men’s Journal

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Man fishing for wild brown trout on small creek in Tasmania.

“Tasmania houses 8.5 million sheep and a mere 500,000 residents. Few know, however, that the “Island of Inspiration” is also home to one of the world’s most pristine brown trout fisheries. With barely 300 international fishing licenses sold each year (nearly a third of those to Americans), Tasmania teems with passionate fly-fishermen who are carefully sustaining and growing the precious fish populations.”

Talking trout, snakes, and some truly awesome people on Men’s Journal today.  I’ve rarely spent time in locations quite as wild, surprising, and vastly big as Tasmania, that also feel oddly familiar and home-like.

Take a look at this Men’s Journal photo essay, and then start planning your own Tasmanian escapades.

Photography Talk: January 25 in Edison, New Jersey

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Curious about photography? Wondering how to travel with your camera, and make the most of your time behind the lens? Want to take better pictures of fish, food, places, and people?

I’ll be presenting about the “how-to” of travel photography (for anglers and non-anglers alike) this coming Saturday, January 25, at The Fly Fishing Show, in Edison, NJ. Come join me at 9:30AM in the Drift Room and let’s talk photography. (You’ll also get a sneak peek at images from my recent project in Australia!)

Reflecting Back—and Looking Forward

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Aerial image of Kimberley Coastal Camp, Australia.The sun is setting on an interesting year and a pretty fantastic decade. Feeling overwhelming gratitude for the editors, clients, guides, outfitters, lodges, anglers, and everyone who I’ve met along the way. Ten years ago I certainly wouldn’t have foreseen the adventures of the past decade. It’s been a lot of fish species, some interesting interactions with customs agents around the world, and many nights sleeping in random places.

Here’s to an exciting 2020, and more adventures in the coming decade! Excited to see what lies ahead.

Image: Pink light at Kimberley Coastal Camp, Australia, October 2019.

Fishing the Absaroka-Beartooth Wilderness

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It was a great pleasure to escape into the backcountry just north of Yellowstone National Park a few summers ago and spend some time riding rough country, chilling around campfires and—of course—chasing fish. The Yellowstone cutthroat are truly a special species, and hands-down one of the more fun fish I’ve chased in recent years.

I was recently able to put together a little write-up to run alongside images from the trip for Big Life Magazine. The gang at Absaroka-Beartooth Outfitters are truly top-notch; Lonny, Cameron, and the entire gang have a way of making the backcountry feel very much like home. See the rest of the story here (toggle right to view the entire feature).

"Montana Wild" article in Big Life Magazine about fly-fishing the Absaroka-Beartooth Wilderness backcountry from horseback.

Here’s a brief snippet from the piece:

Sitting around the fire, comfortably ensconced on a dusty bed of dried pine needles, I look around at my companions. Most could have readily stepped from the screen of a John Wayne movie. Cameron and Lonny sit comfortably in their camp chairs, Cameron in the midst of telling some grand ranching tale, hand gestures and all. Lonny looks remarkably at home, and it’s no wonder, really. Her family has been running sheep in these mountains for generations, and she has the stories to prove it. For her, this is as much home as anywhere.

The wranglers are a wild bunch all their own; good guys who I would want by my side at any adventure. Seasoned ranch hand Patrick also runs a small-town bar (the Grizzly Bar in Roscoe, Montana) with his wife. Tall Jacob is a third-generation Montanan who competes in rodeo events when he’s not working the family ranch or in the backcountry. And young Jeremiah brings a quick whit and good tales from the annual Miles City Bucking Horse Sale.

It’s a motley crew, but the conversation is real, flowing freely around the flickering fire. We laugh when a mouse jumps from the log behind me into my lap before scurrying off into the blackness surrounding us. Just another creature that calls this place home, and will continue to do so long after we make the long ride back to civilization.

"Montana Wild" article in Big Life Magazine about fly-fishing the Absaroka-Beartooth Wilderness backcountry from horseback.But for the moment, we grin and laugh in the darkness, eyes flashing and the bottle of whiskey catching the firelight as it’s passed around. For the moment, the rest of the world fades away and we’re newfound friends on an adventure; breathing clean air and watching the stars wheel overhead, tucked safely in the wilderness. And perhaps that’s the odd magic of it all; we’ve all gathered to chase a fish, to stalk through high mountain creek and ply clear waters for cutthroat. Once again, angling brought together an unexpected group of people and made an improbable clan of them.

There are no moose in Bull Moose Camp. There are, however, plenty of cowboys, horses, mules, and a curious supply of rather good boxed wine.

Back on the Missouri

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Aerial view of the Missouri River near Craig, Montana.

Six years ago, I spent a season up on Montana’s Missouri River, working at Headhunters Fly Shop as  “shop rat.” Days were spent staffing the chicken coop-come-fly shop, running shuttles for visiting guides and anglers, and—in rare moments off—exploring the Missouri and trying to discover the secrets of one of the most famous trout fisheries in the world.

It was a long, hot summer with its fair share of both adventures and misadventures (chronicled here in detail on ChiWulff’S Dispatches From Craig series). I learned a boatload (pun fully intended), carried my camera everywhere, managed my second bout with giardiasis, and slept on an old camping cot in a small studio apartment across from the post office in nearby Cascade, Montana. It was a summer of learning—I listened, I shot photos daily, and I wrote constantly. Really, all there was to do was fish, talk fishing, write, shoot, and anticipate my bi-monthly runs up to Great Falls for groceries.

It was awesome.

Man sorting through a box of flies.

It’s been a long, weird road in the six years since that summer. Somehow I’ve now traveled to work on six continents, and photographed things I never would have dreamed of. I’ve walked the back entrance to Petra and slept outside in the Wadi Rum during a sandstorm. I’ve woken to a hippo in the middle of camp at midnight while on assignment in rural Kenya, and marveled at dangerously large night skies wheeling overhead on the northern edge of Australia. The adventures are there if you make them happen, and I’m forever grateful for the incredible people I meet along the way.

There’s something to be said for returning to the familiar places, though. This past weekend I headed up to Craig, to spend some time on the waters I’d learned the summer of ’13. Meeting me up at our old haunts was Jake Gates, who some of you may remember reading about over the years with his trout-savvy Border Collie Marley. Jake and I both worked the shop that summer, and when a skittish stray dog that no one claimed came into our lives, I don’t think either of us would have believed Marley would still be around six years later, still haunting Jake’s steps on the river.

Border Collie dog on the banks of the Missouri River.

Jake’s lovely parents were in town from Hawai’i, and his girlfriend Lynsey came along as well, crafting a fitting reunion on the banks of the Missouri. We fished for two days, talking about the old times and planning for new adventures (stay tuned… good things in the works!). The Missouri gave us the traditional late-season conditions—technical fish, windy weather and glorious scenery.

Man casting a fly rod on the Missouri River at dusk.

One night I sat crouched on the bank, camera held to my eye as I watched Jake cast at a pod of risers. The river behind him was changing from golden to shades of purple as the sun dropped below the horizon. Marley was hunkered not too far up the bank, her gaze fixed on the fish and following the drift of the dry flies with unerring intensity. The wind was whipping and the temperature dropping.

And it was grand.

I’d argue that you can’t really go home. (I don’t know where I’d call home anyway, these days.) But sometimes you can go back. And those moments are special.