For the past six years, I’ve made the majority of my income from fly fishing. It wasn’t always that way, though, which gives me a unique appreciation for my lifestyle. For five years I worked in the Information Technology field as a network administrator and security analyst, riding a wave of working for a year and taking six months off to travel and fish around the world. It didn’t take too long to figure out the corporate office was not for me, and I took the dot com crash as my queue to pursue other paths in life. It’s been a long, bumpy road, but I wouldn’t trade anything in the world for the places I’ve gone, the people I’ve met, nor the experiences I’ve had.
These days I spend a lot more time on the water with a camera in my hand than I do with a fly rod. During the past couple years I’ve guided a couple of seasons at a helicopter fishing lodge in Alaska, guided in the Great Lakes, taken countless trips across the Pacific Northwest for trout and steelhead, spent a month exploring in the Bahamas, and taken a couple of two-month trips to Patagonia. I supplement my income by writing the occasional magazine article, selling stock photographs, doing freelance video projects (such as filming promotional pieces), and arranging and hosting custom fishing adventures to some of the world’s top angling destinations. I’m always in the process of planning my next project and adventure!

Life as an adventure filmmaker, photographer and fly fishing guide is certainly not all guts and glory. Don’t get me wrong, at times it’s the best job on Earth, but… Health insurance? Yeah right! Life is in constant flux somewhere between having a huge wad of cash in your pocket after a guiding season to being broke before the next one. Then there’s the elements; as much as I don’t miss a cubicle, when it’s 15 degrees blowing freezing rain sideways, I must admit there is some sort of primal longing for a warmer working environment. And sure it gets old crashing on couches, living out of duffel bags and having to constantly explain my nomadic existence to complete strangers, but what the heck? It’s a living, right?
An excerpt from the new book Ryan is not working on called “Fish, Beer, and A Lifetime of Mistakes”

“It was 3 o’clock in the morning, barely above twenty degrees, and the entire boat was covered in a half inch of ice. We had been fishing for almost ten hours for one bite, and I stopped being able to feel my toes hours ago. I looked at my 53 year old father and said, “There’s a very thin line between hardcore and stupid!” Without missing a beat he said, “When you find it, let me know!”

For more information read this bio on Ryan Davey. You can also see Ryan’s personal site here.