History
where it all began
These first several paragraphs sum up briefly the beginnings of Western Rivers Flyfisher. After 38 yrs at the helm I couldn't just leave it at that. If you wade deep into this piece you’ll see that I went on a bit of a shop history rant. In the process I relived a journey that exceeded expectations, that continues to be rewarding, filled with friendships, and that I still share with some truly wonderful and gifted people. I even caught a fish or two along the way not only here in Utah, but around the globe. For those who have joined us on this journey, you have played a significant role in our success and contributed to what makes the shop such a gratifying place to work. We wouldn’t have survived several financial crises, 9/11, and a pandemic without your support and care. So, if you haven’t been along for the entire ride, let me begin to fill in some blanks.
Dave Lattimore, Emmett Heath and I officially put pen to paper establishing Western Rivers Flyfisher in October of 1986. We didn’t actually open shop until Feb 2, 1987. The day after I turned 33. In one respect, it seems like yesterday, but if I do the math, that was a long time ago.
We signed our first lease at 9th and 9th, just down the street from where we are located today. Little did we know what a hup for Salt Lake this area would become. My wife Ann designed the space, had our fixtures built, while Emmett, Dave and I painted and started writing our first orders. Initially the first items we received was fly tying material since they were quite easy to procure. Then the essentials: rods, reels, and waders began to trickle in. For the three of us, fly fishing was our common bond, it's how we all met, and it’s what led us to become partners. In a nutshell that’s it, however as I alluded to after 38 years there is just a bit more I will share.
As fate would have it, if I hadn’t sat through two consecutive viewings of Jerimiah Johnson in 1973 while attending Ohio University, in Athens, I probably would have never made it to Utah or eventually pursued a life casting flies. After watching the movie, I immediately called my parents and said I needed to get out of there and move west. There is more to that call and how I ended up here, but I’ll leave it at that for now. After getting accepted to the University of Utah, that fall I packed my bags and headed for the beehive state. I told my parents I was going to school, but in reality I was more interested in majoring in skiing than academia. I did go to the U for several years, but I eventually dropped out. A career skiing became a big part of that decision, and to a minor extent I simply wanted time to fish, camp, and discover the west.
As my time in Utah grew I seemed destined to pursue business opportunities in the ski industry, however when I wasn’t on a pair of skis I could be found casting a fly on the Lower Provo. As I got more serious about catching fish on a fly eventually Silver Creek, the Madison, the Henry’s Fork, and the waters of West Yellowstone became staples in my fly fishing excursions. As I looked to pursue my next step in life, these ski and fish outings led to an opportunity to purchase Galena Summit, outside of Sun Valley. That opportunity eventually dissolved. Several years later I got a call from Ron Fudge who had one of three coveted Silver Creek permits. He wanted to know if I was interested in purchasing his for $40K. Before I could round up the resources, he sold that permit. I can only wonder what that permit would be worth today. Had either of these opportunities come to fruition, what a different life I may have led. Looking back I’m glad that things worked out the way they did. I’ve found Salt Lake City to in retrospect to be the epicenter of the fly fishing world, and we couldn’t have found a better location for Western Rivers.
After thirteen years working at Snowbird, I eventuallyI graduated in 1986. As the ski industry became more corporate and expanded into big box, I witnessed specialty retail ski businesses quickly falling by the wayside and my interests began to wane. At that time the fly fishing industry was still small by comparison, intimate, and more what I was comfortable in pursuing. Collectively it was less than a billion dollars in the 80’s. That is definitely not the case today. And so in earnest when I wasn‘t throwing bombs or hauling the wounded off the hill as a ski patrolman in the mid 80’s I went back to school and started constructing a business plan and putting the pieces together that would establish Salt Lake’s first specialty retail fly fishing and outfitting service.
A significant part of my fly fishing evolution and life choices I attribute to meeting Emmett Heath. To this day he’s as gifted as any flyfisher that I’ve ever met. I remember the first time I saw him cast a fly rod, it was like nothing I’d ever witnessed. Over time we became friends. He mentored me and those I fished with in the nuances of the game of fly fishing. It wasn’t a simple game, but the complexities of fishing with flies successfully was the attraction, drive and reward.
There were no shortcuts in his approach, and that was evident in the way he fished and conducted himself. He was knowledgeable, skilled, incredibly observant, and a patient predator. Emmett also had a great sense of stewardship, and respect for the waters he fished. He was a tremendous mentor, and someone to this day I and others all still look up to.
Once I had started down this path, to educate myself in the retail fishing world I landed a summer job at Anglers Inn in 1982. If you are not familiar with Anglers Inn, at the time it was advertised as a general fishing store, yet it was run by a bunch of highly regarded fly fishermen. Byron Gunderson, Mickey Anderson and Emmett were all part of that business. Gene Snow, the owner, the most decorated of the lot, although Emmett was by far the most talented of the lot. A few of those years Emmett and I overlapped. Later, after Dave, Emmett and I opened Western Rivers, Mickley and Bryon left Anglers Inn to open Fish Tech Outfitters: a general fishing retailer that we respect and share a common journey in business with. We also have shared efforts in protecting and preserving our waters and maintaining access to them. It’s impressive the footprint that Anglers Inn left after they closed their doors in 2003. It was a spawning ground for many talented and dedicated flyfishers.
By the time I started working at Anglers Inn in Sugarhouse, Emmett had become somewhat of a fly fishing legend here in the West. After several years of working there we began to entertain partnering and starting our own fly fishing retail and outfitting service. At first he was reluctant given his position at Anglers, but in 1986 he decided to join me. About that same time, Dave came on board as well. It was definitely a leap of faith for him to leave Anglers Inn, but given our long history, friendship, and his fly fishing interests he had other interests than sitting behind a counter.. He always wanted to make a life on Utah’s Green River as an outfitter and guide, and our partnership gave him that opportunity.
During those years at Anglers I had met Van Rollo; definitely the most influential rep in the fly fishing industry at that time. He controlled Sage, Simms, and other prominent lines that we had hoped to one day secure. I remember randomly running into him at a party one summer evening. We spent quite a bit of time talking about Anglers Inn and the fly fishing industry in general. Towards the end of the conversation he brought up the subject of the need for a fly shop in Utah. Given his relationship with Gene and Co. I just agreed with him, and it wasn’t until later after I had left Angler Inn that I shared my plans with him. His acknowledgement, however, of that need sent me home even more confident of the direction I was going. He would play a significant role in helping us to get started, and over time became a good and trusted friend.
Once I left Anglers, I got a summer job in 1986 at Snug in Park City managing their fly fishing department. That was a very educational opportunity that opened even more doors for me in the world of fly fishing. Towards the end of that summer, with all the pieces in place we established a time frame for executing our plan and began looking for a place to set up shop. My wife Ann’s intuition and insistence led us to the 9th and 9th area of Salt Lake.
This was long before it became what it is today and the damn whale made its way into our lives. It couldn’t have been a more ideal location for us to begin. Her design skills and vision led to a 800 sq ft retail store that became a comfortable home for me, our staff and those who patronized and helped us plant our roots. That atmosphere thanks to her skills carried over into a larger space in the same building, where we expanded and stayed before buying and settling where Western Rivers resides today.
Compared to what it takes to open a fly-fishing retail business and guide service today Western Rivers had very humble and meager beginnings. Dave and I each invested $4500.00 for starters and managed to secure a small line of credit that sustained and allowed us to get our feet off the ground. In today's world, that wouldn’t even pay for a month's rent, let alone an inventory that would be worthy of a decent fly shop.
Another aspect of our paltry beginnings was dictated by a protective industry. Their practices curtailed what we had access to and could sell. It was before Cabelas, Bass Pro, eBay, and big box got their foot in the door, and similar to the ski industry changed the landscape. Manufacturers were loyal to their retailers back when we started Western Rivers. In the 80”s Gene Snow, owner of Angler Inn, controlled this market and he understandably wielded a big stick. Therefore, when we opened that February day back in 87, we had a fairly limited offering, And with a limited and fairly obscure inventory we had to prove our worth if we were to be opened by any of the more significant manufacturers. Back in those days our year end inventory numbers were about 70K. Today, at the end of the year we run over four times and during peak summer months it is significantly more.
It took us a number of frustrating years before fly fishing's most coveted vendors: Cortland, Scientific Anglers, Simms, Sage, Winston, and Scott would take us on. It seemed like forever. When Tom Morgan of Winston called me to open us as a dealer, he would be the last to give us the green light. No pun intended. Winston also was the brand I wanted most since the first premium rod I had purchased was my cherished 8’ ½ “ for a 5wt pre-IM6 green stick. For those who know me, you are aware that this particular rod I fondly refer to as “Billy Baroo”. By the way, Emmett sold me Billy and it is still one of my favorite rods. Gene was not happy about our venture that somewhat encroached on his world, but over time after he saw the work we put in to being an advocate for our fisheries we patched up our differences and worked together pursuing what common interests we had.
In today's world if you have a pulse and deep pockets you can purchase just about whatever you want and there is little consideration for the impact that a new player may have on existing dealers. To give you an idea of our initial product offerings, our premium rod line was from Teton Rod Co. Their fly rods were beautifully crafted, built on deep blue dyed Fisher blanks, the same blanks and graphite that Winston rods were famously made on, but Teton was definitely not a rod company that customers knew to ask for. Nor did they manage to operate for very long. Seal Dri’s were our waders of choice and Brogue’s were our options for wading boots. Since those days waders have gone from rubber sweat suits to waders that breathe. Like the landscape we operate in, all facets of the gear we use today have gone through many innovative changes. Some are beneficial improvements. Others, like the strike indicator, have altered the defining qualities of fly fishing significantly.
Once we secured those brands that were critical to our success, we then approached Patagonia before they dove into the business of waders and boots. Not only did we covet their products, but we aligned with their business philosophies, practices, and Patagonia’s unwavering commitment to become a responsible and sustainable company. Ironically, you would have been hard pressed to find a fly fishing specific company in the late 80’s and 90's that prioritized minimizing the impact their practices had on the resources or advocated for the environment like Patagonia. Today, disappointingly, it’s not much better. As a business that relies on limited resources for its sustainability we felt we needed to have a deep sense of stewardship and that should be reflected in some of the brands we chose to support. Although our support for vendors with a strong conservation ethic directed some of our business decisions, we would have not been able to accomplish what we have without the support of our loyal community. That community began with numero uno, Art Dittman, unofficially.
I remember Art walking into our shop before we had fixtures and much in the way of products to sell like it was yesterday. Emmett was sprawled out on the floor, we didn’t have chairs or desks yet, sorting and pricing fly tying materials before we were open for business. I was literally assembling the shop's first computer. A Heath Kit. You had to learn code back then to use a computer. Fortunately for me, I had someone help me navigate those early days into the world of computers and their arduous language. Talk about a changing landscape. Art walked in, saw the fly tying materials on the floor and asked us if they were for sale. As I would come to learn, Art was a jack of all trades and quite the character. Several of our first official customers after we legitimately opened were Dick and Jon Hodge. They came knocking on our door on a Sunday, a day we were closed, but I was working. I opened the door and that chance encounter turned into a lifelong friendship that continues to this day. You’ll notice they crop up a number of times in my ruminations here.
Another impactful and loyal customer I’d be remiss if I failed to acknowledge is Bill Young. He has been a part of the fabric of Western Rivers since opening, and continues to stop by almost daily. That is as long as the coffee is free and flowing. There are others, many for that matter, but Bill has a special place in the history of the shop. Bill from the beginning, much like Art, was a wealth of fly fishing information who became a close friend over the many years. Our relationship predates the shop and goes back to my days waiting tables in the Steak Pit at Snowbird, and also later when we crossed paths again during my Anglers Inn days.
Bill is now 93. He doesn't fish as much as he used to, so we put him to work. After all these years his unofficial duties include flipping the open sign over after walking in the door, before then casually shuffling over to clean the glass counter top to earn that cup of coffee he’ll eventually pour himself from the back. If he fails to show up in the morning, the open sign doesn’t get turned over and his absence usually prompts a call from one of us to his wife Marge to check on him. Ironically, that just happened recently. I had to just laugh when a customer came in and said he thought we were closed since the sign hadn’t been flipped yet. Validation of the “Bill” effect after all these years. We did however know that he was at a Dr’s appointment on this particular occasion so his absence did not prompt a call.
Speaking of free coffee. Early in the infancy of the shop, we started serving fresh roasted coffee. Today, our friends at Millcreek Roasters deliver a fresh roasted batch every Friday. Coffee was more out of a necessity to keep us going, but good coffee soon became a part of the Western Rivers lifeblood and experience. It would be a rare time of day when you wandered in if you weren’t offered a cup. If you’ve been in the shop in the last few years on the back wall between the bookshelves you’ll notice a collection of coffee mugs with individual names on them. Those go back to our first location. We gave them to our loyal customers and coffee drinkers. That began a morning ritual for a bunch of regulars who became fondly known as the Coffee Crew; a group who religiously met at the shop every morning for coffee. From the Coffee Crew emerged a smaller sub-group known as the Rangers. I could write a book on these guys, but will keep their escapades somewhat brief.
Bill Young, Bud Murray, and Lynn Calder, didn’t know each other prior to Western opening. Once assimilating into the Coffee Crew they soon rose up the hierarchy of prominent personalities. It wasn’t long after their meeting that they were self anointed as the Rangers. These characters became a somewhat secretive trio who rarely missed a weekend fishing together. Bud, whose swager, arguably made him their unofficial ringleader. Like Bill's persistent presence, it was a rare day when they wouldn’t gather for coffee to scheme and if needed maintain order. Those chance encounters led to them each buying drift boats that would lead them to frequent outings on the Green and the South Fork of the Snake; their two favorite rivers to float, camp, and fish. Since they had so many boats a select few were often invited to participate in their forays. Dave Lattimore and the infamous Chico Mallo most notably. As they grew older and with more time on their hands, if they didn’t show up for coffee we knew they were abusing fish somewhere. They never shared where, at least while it was relevant. Only after they’d gotten their fill would they divulge their whereabouts and surrender some tidbits on their outings and success. Prior to that you just didn't dare ask, because you’d just be ignored or at best briefly mumbled to.
Bud passed away in 2019 from surgical complications, which was the beginning of the demise of the Rangers. As we all remember, that is when COVID began to consume our lives. As the impact of the pandemic permeated the world, it quickly dissolved the Coffee Crew leaving a significant void in the back of the shop each morning. During that time we filled that quiet space each morning with 8 O’clock shots. Fortunately we ended that brief salutation and got back in the swing of serving coffee as customers began to trickle back in. Bill continues to visit the shop each morning for coffee and a few other regulars join him, but morning coffee gatherings are nothing like they used to be. The Rangers and those who made up the fabric of the Coffee Crew will always have a place in the history of the shop. Similar to those who have worked here over the years, especially the ones who joined us early on in this venture, they left an indelible mark.
Although our customers were the lifeblood of our existence, the crew that served them deserve their own recognition and gratitude. Although it was pretty much just Emmett, Dave, and I early on, we finally got to a point where we needed some help. There have been many staff members who left their mark at Western, but these early “Shop Rats” laid down the foundation. John Storm, Todd Hopkins, Steve Cook, Ian Dewing, Mark Benion,
Jon Hodge and Andy Fitzhugh were some of our first to hire. Others who helped legitimize us were Nick Teynor, Greg Pearson, and Topher Brown. I remember when Topher approached us, his resume was so intimidating that I felt he wouldn’t be a good fit. Looking back, he proved to be an incredible hire and influence who elevated us all.
He continues to be a very influential personality in the world of Atlantic Salmon fishing. Look him up. All of these personalities, including those who followed in their footsteps have been instrumental in making Western a wealth of knowledge and talent. I could have filled pages with their accolades here, their misadventures, and struggle not to elaborate more given how meaningful all their relationships have been to me, the shop and our customers, but instead will leave you with an incident that involved Mark”Bortis” and Jon-o for entertainment value instead. It’s one of volumes that occurred over the years at the shop.
One warm summer evening after locking up, several guys knocked on the door. Even though it was after hours Jon-o and Mark, alias Bortis, welcomed them in and helped get them the supplies they needed before leaving to fish in Montana. After departing as they shut the shop down yet again, Jon-o noticed that his sunglasses were suddenly missing. It was apparent that they had been lifted by the shops afterhours customers. One of them mentioned that they were going to fish the Madison and had planned to leave that evening for there. With that brief bit of intel, Jon-o and Bortis soon left in hot pursuit, hoping to find the thieves.
The next morning they started searching Madison River parking lots for vehicles with Utah plates. There happened to be one at Three Dollar Bridge where they also noticed several guys checking out the river from the bridge. As they approached them, low and behold, one of them just happened to be wearing Jon-o’s prized glasses. I’m not quite sure what happened to the guy that lifted them after this encounter, but I can imagine. What I do know is Jon-o and Bortis returned to work with an unlikely story, wearing his sunglasses as proof of their escapades. This is just one of many such occurrences that were improbable that revolved around gear getting lifted that we would eventually get back. Given our experience, fortunately people that steal stuff don’t appear to be too smart.
With the shop and the guide service off and running, a staff, a chance encounter with Craig Hayes of Turneffe Island Flats who randomly stopped in the shop and planted a seed that would blossom into a significant service for Western. Before departing he invited me to visit his lodge in Belize. It was an attractive carrot, especially given the destination, but we were running a skeleton crew and it didn’t seem a possibility, yet somehow I made the trip happen. My enthusiasm convinced Dave Hall, Dick, and Jon Hodge, before Jon-o became an employee, to join me. In the end, the trip wasn’t a smooth venture into travel, at least for me, nor was my second, but I was not deterred.
First off, none of my gear ever made it to Belize. This was well before the internet was available in the palm of your hand, cell phones, or social media. So, trying to deal with lost luggage was somewhat of an impossibility. Upon returning home I would learn that my bag was sitting back on my front porch before I even reached Turneffe Flats. So I arrived at the lodge with the clothes on my back, no toothbrush, and no fishing gear.
On the first day of fishing I would come to learn that the guides were upset with management and once they knew that I was a guest on the trip, they refused to take me out. Long story short! I was able to get a half day in, thanks to Dick Hodge’s generosity, but mostly I sat around, slept, and drank gin and tonics on a beautiful beach. It took me a few days before I realized that this didn’t suck, especially when after a few days I noticed a pair of Permit would swim within casting distance of me each day. Although I wasn’t fishing, for an entire week I did have some unsuccessful shots at those Permit, got to unplug, recalibrate, and had a bunch of fun with people I enjoyed spending time with in a spectacular setting.
To top the trip off, our flight from Belize City back to the states was cancelled. We were told that another plane would be available later that day, but that never happened and after a frustrating day at the airport we ended up spending a hot sleepless night in a moldy hotel room in Belize City drinking warm Scotch to pass the night away. Then adding insult to injury, the following morning began just as the previous day ended; with us waiting for a plane to show up. Eventually one did arrive quite late in the afternoon. To the credit of my traveling companions, the low lights didn’t overshadow the experience, and the intrigue and beauty of fishing the flats. Upon our arrival home we all yearned for more.
Given that first experience, I approached my next adventure to Mexico a little wiser and prepared. My next hosted trip was to Boca Paila; a well known saltwater destination just south of Cancun that I was aware of from my days behind the counter at Anglers Inn. On the drive south to Boca Paila from Cancun, while listening to the Rolling Stones, enjoying a cool Corona that our driver opened with his teeth, we managed to rear end a gringo driving a Toyota Corolla.
The impact flipped our VW Bus, shearing all the seats from inside the vehicle. We ended up on our side in the roadside mangroves, a contorted mess inside the bus. As we crawled out of the vehicle's side door to take inventory, I noticed several locals grabbing our luggage. At first I thought they were there to help, but that notion didn’t last long as they started to fade into the dense brush with our bags. Incredibly, all we lost was a Tarpon stretcher.
No one was seriously hurt, which was somewhat of a miracle. I was able to get most of the crew a ride to the lodge, yet Dick and Jon Hodge and I remained. Fortunately we crashed across from a local eating establishment, which didn’t help with a ride, but kept us supplied with “mucho cervezas” until sometime after midnight when they closed. By then we had quite the pile of empties scattered about our feet and were growing restless. By 4am, we’d managed to run down a ride and make it to the lodge minus some sleep and that pilfered tarpon stretcher in time to not miss huevos rancheros and our first day of fishing. Game on, life was good.
You would have thought that after experiencing two consecutive somewhat disastrous adventures to exotic destinations that I would have had my fill. Fortunately I saw the potential in travel and the allure of tropical settings and other exotic destinations. After our debacle in the jungle, we managed to visit our friends at Boca Paila for another 20 yrs before it sold. We have since branched out across the globe to other incredible destinations and experiences in Belize, BC, Cuba, Alaska, Mexico, Russia, Bahamas, and Argentina. Travel has grown to become a significant part of our diverse offerings and it continues to grow as we explore new locations where we can cast a fly.
As time passed eventually Dave and Emmett moved on and our partnership was dissolved. Ironically these choices were a result of them being confronted with health challenges. In 1997 Emmett’s heart gave out and he was hospitalized for almost two years before eventually receiving a heart transplant. Too many Corn Dogs, Bologna and American Cheese hors d'oeuvre washed down with a big cool refreshing Rum and Coke at the end of his day on the water. Once he recovered he went to work for Dennis Breer, another well recognized and respected outfitter on the Green, who presented an opportunity to Emmett that was generous and accommodating. I actually encouraged him to take the offer. Unfortunately he never guided again, but to this day his presence is still a respected force on the river. Although he’s still referred to as the Dean of the Green, I feel he’s been more like it’s ambassador. Every river should have such a steward and gentle giant as its representative.
Dave also had a close bout with the grim reaper. He developed a staph infection, and was hospitalized for some time before slowly recovering. Upon regaining his health he decided to simplify his life and to sell his interest in Western, retire and enjoy a life fishing summers in Montana and skiing winters in Utah. In 2005 I bought Dave’s share of the business. It seems like only yesterday that these transitional events occurred, but that was over two decades ago. As they say; ”time flies when you’re having fun”.
I’m still close with them both and will forever be grateful for their efforts, sacrifices, and shared contributions that led to Western Rivers success. As I said recently at my semi-retirement party, it takes a village, and outside of my family, my wife in particular, they were the foundation of the village that led to our success.
One other individual who I need to bring back into the fold who also was a part of the village was Andy Fitzhugh. Outside of my partners Dave and Emmet he was the first employee who became a partner at Western. Andy, like Dave and I, was from the midwest and had an affinity for fishing with flies, but also skiing. He was a beautifully skilled flyfisher, who tied spectacular flies and was always a pleasure to fish with. As an angler he was a student of the game and it showed in the flies he tied, or in his skills whenever he was presented with a challenging trout on some of the west's more technical fisheries. Eventually he too moved on, to Montana, in pursuit of more financial stability for he and his family: Rebecca, Hannah and Emma. It was a big loss for us, yet we stayed close and continued our friendship, which I was so grateful for.
In 2021 tragically he paid the shop his last visit. He stopped in for a cup of coffee, which he often did when visiting from Montana. Two days later after returning home to Helena he would be flown on a Life Flight back to Salt Lake in critical condition, regretfully too late to save him from complications with COVID. I still have a hard time acknowledging that he is no longer with us. I am and will remain for some time quite bittered by his loss. That sour resolve emerged through those customers who refused to wear a mask during the pandemic to protect those who were serving them, other customers, and friends who might also be in the store. I think of him often, and miss his visits for coffee, a beer or an evening on a local fishery when time permitted. I and others are grateful we got to share time with him, but that is a small consolation given the circumstances.
Soon after Andy moved to Montana Ken Davis came walking into the shop. That was in 2002. Back then he was a fly fishing fledgling who was interested in a job. Given what Andy brought to the table, when Ken first approached us, his skill set didn’t fill the void Andy left. At least from a fishing standpoint. When I didn’t first hire him, he kept bugging me. I think he even offered to work for free at one point to get his foot in the door. Over twenty years later I’m very grateful for his persistence. He’s been a valuable and influential factor through all these years on top of being a good friend. He’s also become a pretty darn good stick.
Not long after Ken became a part of the staff, two surly young characters approached me for jobs as well; Bryce Nichols, and Matt Lucas. Bryce came on board in 2007 and Matt joined the team in 2008. They were best friends from Salt Lake City who had been working as fly fishing guides in Estes Park, Colorado before applying for jobs at Western. Like Ken, they both would play a significant role in the store's continued growth and evolution moving forward.
After Matt and Bryce worked in the shop for several years Matt took flight to guide for us on the Green River. He soon became one of the more respected and requested Western guides on that river. Meanwhile his good buddy decided to make his mark and stay anchored to the shop. Both would prove to be good decisions in the long run for all parties involved, although we missed having Matt behind the counter with us.
After Emmett moved to Dutch John to work for Denny in 2000, without him, managing our Green River guide service became challenging. Due to our expanded efforts into travel, we decided to sell our Green River guide service to Matt. It needed a facelift and it was becoming too burdensome to handle without boots on the ground in Dutch John.
So in 2015 Matt became the face of Western Rivers Green River Guides. It seemed a natural fit. Similar to Emmett, Matt had a knack for guiding, and chose to sit behind his oars on the Green rather than to pursue a life behind the counter. He’s turned the guide service into one that’s respected throughout the west due to his ethics, skills and talented guides. Much as it was when the Big E was at its helm, who Matt to this day convides in with some frequency.
Although in general life at the fly shop was good and we were doing well, 2008 shook us to the core. The collapse of the housing market that year that tanked US markets almost did us in. Our business came to a literal standstill. After the dust had settled and markets had bottomed out, we couldn’t pay our vendors and banks literally closed their books on any opportunity to borrow funds. I remember sitting on the back steps of the shop talking to my father. I called to ask if he could loan me any money if needed. I also had to contact all our vendors to tell them I wouldn’t be able to pay them until business picked up later that summer. To their credit, every single one of the companies we represented worked with us through those very uncertain times. Our most loyal customers went out of their way to help keep us afloat. Miraculously we didn’t have to lay anyone off, or did I have to borrow any money. At one time I remember having just $1400.00 in our checking account. As I’ve alluded to earlier in this piece, it wasn’t the only financial crisis we’ve had to endure, but through them all including the recent Pandemic, our loyal community made sure we survived. I remember one day in particular during these challenging times when I showed up to open the store and resting against the door was a freshly made loaf of banana bread and pad of butter. This just demonstrates the extent that our customers went to support and care for us through troubled times. As the saying goes “priceless”.
Having survived 2008 the years were now turning into decades as our 25th anniversary approached. Those fleeting years seemed a blur and the approaching milestone was something I never envisioned. Shortly after celebrating that significant anniversary I made Ken and Bryce partners in 2016, forming a trio of diversity that would lead us into the next chapters of Western Rivers. Kenny fell into the complex world of managing inventory. Bryce took our website and turned it into a viable tool for marketing and generating sales. Although we have had a website for years, it needed some attention. Together we have navigated a challenging and rapidly changing landscape. Although life hasn’t been quite the same in the fly shop since the pandemic, it’s still incredibly rewarding thanks to those we are fortunate to serve and the friendships we continue to develop.
As I alluded to earlier, we've had a sense of stewardship and felt a responsibility to protect and invest in what we relied on for our livelihoods. For those new to Western Rivers, or who are not familiar with our dedication to protecting our watersheds, here’s a little history of our efforts. Bear with me. I’m proud of our contributions and feel it’s important to share our successes given they have contributed to enhancing your fly fishing experiences whether you know it or not. So, in a nutshell here are some of our more substantial accomplishments.
Utah Water Users threatened to shut the flows off on the Lower Provo River, which would have decimated this prolific river's brown trout fishery. This was before Jordanelle Reservoir was constructed and the Middle Provo became the fishery that it is today. Consequently at the time, the Lower Provo below Deer Creek Res was the most utilized stream in the state, other than the Green. And for good reason. Thanks to Jeff Appel and Julie Mack from Sundance, we were able to find a categorical exclusion pertaining to flows and not only avert the shut off, but from then on establish a minimum stream flow of 100cfs moving forward.
I started an organization called the Trout Foundation to focus more on our coldwater fisheries. Several members of the Stonefly Society, Bill Partner and Fred Rehiemer, joined me along with a number of dedicated customers, Craig Coburn and Larry Weiss in particular. Before we dissolved the organization we planted the brown trout you now catch in the Diamond Fork drainage and also did a rather significant mitigation project in the Snyderville Basin on McCloud Cr. that is now part of the Swaner Preserve.
When I noticed a number of flagged stakes in the river just downstream of the Elmo Cheever Bridge. I would learn that the stakes were put there by UDOT and marked where the new Provo Canyon alignment for US 189 would go. Viewing this as a threat to the fishery, and impeding access to anglers, we got involved and organized a team of concerned individuals, businesses and NGOs to challenge and hopefully stop the project. Jeff Appel stepped in once again and provided legal counsel in the matter. Julie Mack also played a significant role in our efforts, however the courts would not interfere with the project. In the end, Sundance, Utah Rivers Council, American Rivers, and Western Rivers were instrumental in advancing our cause. We were not able to stop the project, however we were able to get a rather substantial settlement and force UDOT to redesign the road. In doing so, the new alignment gained us 20’ of riparian corridor in addition to what was already there. In the end, access was improved, we kept the road out of the river, and the expanded corridor benefited fish and wildlife.
The Blue Ribbon Advisory Council. It was an olive branch he extended after his family’s fish hatchery in Bicknell introduced whirling disease into our northern fisheries. That's a whole other story. I was one of the founding members of this organization, serving 8yrs before stepping down. Ken Davis took my place. This organization was the first of its kind, and actually had a rather substantial budget, and influence over projects that affected the state's valuable cold and warm water fisheries. It is still an active and effective council today.
In the Salt Lake Tribune alerting the public to the development of a resort at Little Hole, on Utah’s Green River. It would be built on the south side of the river. SITLA was selling the property to a private developer. This was the only parcel within the corridor that wasn’t either BLM or FS land. Rich Seamons and I spearheaded opposition to this development and forced SITLA to put the parcel up for public auction, which they were mandated to do, but failed to comply. In the end, Queststar purchased the land and soon exchanged it with the FS for a more desirable parcel they were interested in. After that land exchange, the future threat of development within the Green River corridor was removed.
In the fight to maintain public access to Utah waters. That year Rep. Ferry filed a bill that would negate Utah's Supreme Court 2008 ruling that recognized that the public had the right to access Utah’s rivers and streams. Collectively anglers were able to successfully defeat HB 187, however in 2010 a new piece of legislation would pass, HB 141, gutting the 2008 ruling and significantly limiting angler access to the state's rivers and streams. Since then the Utah Stream Access Coalition, which was formed in response to the HB 141 ruling, filed two lawsuits involving the Provo and Weber Rivers. In 2017 USAC was able to prove that the Weber River was a navigable water, and thus open up 80 miles of river to the public. The Provo River fight is ongoing and their more recent efforts appear promising. Stay tuned.
Of the Henry’s Fork Foundations. Since its creation we have been a strong advocate of their work. For several decades we have been a member and helped spearhead their Utah fundraising efforts. Until COVID, all meetings were held at the shop as were most of the meetings that took place in all of these efforts. Zoom fills that void now, as it has for many of us in the business world.
Utah representatives on the hill they will take away your rights to access public waters and lands. They are working on it much harder than we are. They have time and money and are very persistent towards this endeavor. They may advocate that their efforts are in the public’s best interest, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. As we continue to be involved in pursuing access for anglers to Utah’s waters, we are also engaged to thwart Utah’s efforts to take your public lands. Just recently the Supreme Court denied Utah's request to hear their case that hoped to have 18.5mil of BLM lands over to the state to manage. That won’t stop them, and the current administration who is gutting FS and BLM agencies just happens to play nicely into the state hands and messaging. They will not be deterred. Not only are our streams and our ability to recreate on them being threatened, the state's more egregious efforts to control our public lands significantly threatens our ability to access and recreate on lands that are there for all the public to enjoy. So, stay tuned, get involved, your ability to fish, hunt, hike, camp, and recreate on Utah’s waters and lands is being threatened. Should Utah be successful, or any western state for that matter, those ramifications are significant. This is not a time to sit on the sidelines.
And supported numerous organizations: Stonefly Society, Utah Rivers Council, Coast to Clouds, Nature Conservancy, Trout Unlimited, Swaner Preserve, Henry’s Fork Foundation, Wild Steelhead Coalition, USAC, The Wild Salmon Center, Hawk Watch, Project Coyote, Utah Wildlife Federation, Backcountry Hunters and Anglers, and some I’ve forgotten. We have opened our doors to organizations for meetings and held numerous events to support NGO’s fundraising efforts. There are so many worthwhile organizations out there, we encourage you to get involved.
Before hanging this rant up I want to share a word about Western and our philosophies to leave you with. Since we opened our doors we have been committed to the traditions of fly fishing. It’s a process, one that takes time and due to the challenges that casting a fly creates, we find that is what makes fly fishing so rewarding. Emmett instilled this in me, and I’ve always felt that it was important and that willingness to share this process is what separates us from many other shops. I now refer to this process as “The Game”. Although much has changed in fly fishing over the years, especially how we catch fish, we feel strongly that the essence of fishing with flies emanates from learning how to cast a fly rod. Since the advent of the strike indicator we’ve lost some of the activity's essence. In particular, you no longer need to learn how to cast in order to be proficient at catching fish. Although catching fish is important, we feel that there is a lot more to it than that. In our Mission Statement we declare that we are here to help you get the most from your fly fishing experience. For us, that goes beyond just selling you stuff. We are here to help broaden your horizons and teach you the many often rewarding and challenging aspects of learning to cast, but also the nuances of catching a fish with a fly. It’s what we enjoy most.
Finally, as I was nearing 70 and approaching forty years at the helm here, I felt my energy to run Western wane and began to seriously look at an exit strategy. I’m sure my partners and those who I’m fortunate to work with saw or felt this. To be honest, the pandemic took what wind I had left out of my sails. As life somewhat came back to normal, I began to put the wheels in motion that would begin a new era for Western Rivers and create opportunities for those who had supported me through the years. That became a reality In April of 2022 when I sold my interest in Western to my partners. Ken Davis and Bryce Nichols now steer this ship. It’s in very competent and motivated hands moving forward, especially given the support and team they have in Logan, Blaine and Nick who all play significant roles in Western’s future. Collectively there’s a lot of experience among them that continues to grow each day. They and Western have a bright future in the years and decades to come. I hope I’m around for a while to witness the evolution.
When Logan asked me to write a little history of the shop for our website, I think he was hoping to get a paragraph or two from me. Once I started the project it became a challenge to keep it this brief. I say that somewhat jokingly. If you’ve stayed with me till the end, I’m impressed. Just writing this brought back many memories and helped me put a timeline on our evolution. Looking back I’m so grateful to have shared this experience with so many of you. And for now at least as they say, “to be continued”.