Lizzie Votruba

I used to go years without catching a thing. Growing up, I idly wandered riverbanks in quest of steelhead in Cleveland, and quickly learned that “fishing” was more about the “I.N.G.” than the “F.I.S.H.” Nonetheless, a few special moments across the American West indeed got me truly hooked by my mid-20s. While I occasionally use trout as bait for conversation-starters on dating apps, I cling to the sport for so much more than validation. Fly fishing has always drawn me closer to nature, closer to the best version of myself, and closer to serenity of mind through deliberate and concentrated intention. I’ve always felt more connected to the world around me after even a short hour on the river. Ideally, this is what I share with my fellow anglers in any outing. I want other badass women to experience how the river can provide solace, bringing tranquility to an otherwise tumultuous world (while also mixing in some gleeful hoots and hollers as our nets fill with bounty). Ever since moving to Jackson, Wyoming–a place known for its male dominated rowdy camaraderie–the need for more women on the water has become ever apparent. Fly fishing fits into my life for this reason: to connect with one another over something authentic, in a safe space within this incredible landscape, on the planet we get to call home.