TRCP Applauds Reintroduction of Bipartisan Public Land, Migration Bills
Bills would strengthen public lands and help conserve big game migration corridors
The Theodore Roosevelt Conservation Partnership cheers the reintroduction of two priority bills aimed at maintaining access to public lands and conserving big game migrations.
The Public Lands in Public Hands Act, first introduced in the 118th Congress by Representatives Zinke (R-Mont.) and Vasquez (D-N.M.), would require congressional approval for the sale and transfer of public lands to non-federal entities in most instances. The biggest impact of the bill would be to prevent the Bureau of Land Management from selling important access parcels as part of its land disposal process, which would effectively maintain valuable hunting and fishing access for sportsmen and sportswomen.
“Millions of American sportsmen and sportswomen depend on public lands for their hunting and fishing access,” said Joel Webster, chief conservation officer with the Theodore Roosevelt Conservation Partnership. “TRCP appreciates the leadership of Representatives Zinke and Vasquez to prevent the sale or transfer of our valued public lands by reintroducing the Public Lands in Public Hands Act.”
The Wildlife Movement Through Partnerships Act, first introduced in the 118th Congress by Representatives Zinke (R-Mont.) and Beyer (D-Va.) and Senators Padilla (D-Calif.) and Hoeven (R-N.D.), would formally authorize existing federal programs initiated by the Department of the Interior during the Trump Administration through Secretarial Order 18-3362, signed by then Secretary Zinke, to conserve big game migration corridors. These programs were supported by the Biden Administration but remain discretionary. Congressional action to formalize these discretionary programs guarantees that the work will persist regardless of future administration changes. This is important because state and Tribal wildlife agency annual budgets are unable to meet the full demand for wildlife management. The financial and technical assistance from these federal programs would help to bridge that gap and also provide resources to private landowners for voluntary conservation actions.
“The Wildlife Movement Through Partnerships Act had broad bipartisan support in both chambers during the 118th Congress, and we look forward to working with the original bill sponsors to see it passed into law in the 119th,” said Madeleine West, VP of western conservation with the Theodore Roosevelt Conservation Partnership. “America’s hunters and anglers will benefit from this common-sense, bipartisan bill that promotes collaborative conservation to ensure big game abundance.”
Learn more about TRCP’s commitment to public hunting and fishing access HERE, and TRCP’s commitment to migration HERE.
Wyoming Sportspeople Celebrate Conservation of Iconic Big Game Migration Corridors with Kelly Parcel Sale to Grand Teton National Park
Hunting and grazing will be retained in perpetuity on the parcel
In the waning hours of 2024, the State of Wyoming and Department of the Interior finalized the $100 million sale of the 640-acre Kelly State Trust Parcel to Grand Teton National Park, marking the terminus of the years-long effort to conserve its outstanding wildlife values.
Alarmed by a proposal to sell the parcel at public auction in 2023, a broad coalition of Wyomingites, including numerous sportspeople’s groups, worked with the Wyoming legislature, Governor Mark Gordon, auditor Kristi Racines, and treasurer Curt Meier to authorize its direct sale to the park, generating a windfall for public education. Hunting and grazing will remain on the parcel per the sales agreement.
The Kelly Parcel remains one of the few accessible public tracts of land available for bison hunting in Wyoming. As seen in the feature image, after 16 days of hunting, including an opportunity on the Kelly Parcel the day before, Cody, Wyoming, resident Austin Reed was successful on the National Elk Refuge in early 2025.
“Wyoming sportspeople quickly recognized the threat to pronghorn and elk migration paths, wildlife habitat, and public access should the Kelly Parcel be developed,” said Josh Metten, Wyoming field manager for the Theodore Roosevelt Conservation Partnership. “The sale to Grand Teton National Park is a win-win for wildlife, sportspeople, and Wyoming school children. We thank the legislature, Governor Gordon, auditor Racines, treasurer Meier, and the broad coalition of Wyomingites who worked tirelessly to achieve this historic win.”
The sale was furnished by monies from the Land and Water Conservation Fund, which receives royalties from offshore oil and gas development, and private donors to Grand Teton National Park Foundation. Revenues will directly benefit Wyoming school children as required by the Wyoming constitution.
“The broad support from Wyomingites to convey the Kelly Parcel to Grand Teton National Park is a clear indication of our desire to find common-ground solutions that avoid political gridlock and partisan politics,” added Metten. “We thank Grand Teton National Park for retaining hunting and grazing in perpetuity for this parcel, which is now forever conserved for future generations to enjoy.”
For several decades, conservationists and Wyoming’s elected representatives have recognized that state trust parcels found within Grand Teton National Park’s boundaries could be added to the park while also meeting those parcels’ constitutional mandate to generate revenue for public education. In 2003, the late senator Craig Thomas led the passage of legislation authorizing exchanges, sales, or trades of state trust inholdings. The Kelly parcel acquisition is the culmination of this effort and is a historic win for Wyoming and all Americans.
The TRCP is your resource for all things conservation. In our weekly Roosevelt Report, you’ll receive the latest news on emerging habitat threats, legislation and proposals on the move, public land access solutions we’re spearheading, and opportunities for hunters and anglers to take action. Sign up now.
TRCP’s “In the Arena” series highlights the individual voices of hunters and anglers who, as Theodore Roosevelt so famously said, strive valiantly in the worthy cause of conservation.
Eeland Stribling is more than a well-known stand-up comic (recently highlighted on Roots of Comedy on PBS) – he is an environmental educator, wildlife biologist, and fly-fishing fanatic (occasionally dubbed the “Black Steve Irwin”) who loves teaching folks about the natural world and helping to create connections that last a lifetime and beyond. Conservation is the backbone of everything he does.
Here is his story.
Photo credit Eeland Stribling
Nature and the outdoors have been in my life since before I could even tie my own shoes. One of my grandfathers, Gramps, was a wildlife biologist and the other one, Papa, was a nature lover from Mississippi. My Papa would wake me up at an ungodly hour— like 3 or 4 a.m. — and we’d head out to the water. We would sit on the shore for hours, barely speaking, just watching the world wake up around us as we waited for the fish to bite. It was simple and, yes, sometimes boring, but it taught me patience and presence as I learned to see the world through his eyes. My Gramps, a wildlife biologist, showed me the magic of the outdoors through a scientist’s lens. He had a way of making even the smallest insect feel like the most important discovery in the world and it showed me how to ask questions about everything—why do birds sing in the morning? Why do fish jump? Those lessons shaped how I see the world today — full of wonder, curiosity, and respect.
Those early trips were about more than just catching fish – although I still remember pulling in sunfish and bass and feeling like I had just won the lottery. They were about connection —to my family, to nature, and eventually, to myself.
“Conservation is the backbone of everything I do.”
Now, when I guide and teach, I teach a holistic view, where everything is connected – from the weather to the plants to the wildlife, to the slope of the river and everything in between. Catch-and-release practices, respecting wildlife, and leaving no trace all instill a sense of responsibility. It’s hard to spend time in nature and not want to protect it.
I teach everyone how to fly fish — kids in foster care, adults new to fly fishing, and even comedians through [my series] Comedians on the Fly. One moment that stands out was when a foster kid, after catching his first fish, then turned around and taught another kid how to cast. Watching him share what he’d learned was one of the most rewarding moments of my life. It was the first time I’d seen the results of many hours of work in action. I was shocked and it made it so worthwhile to be in that moment.
Photo credit Eeland Stribling
For me, introducing someone to fly fishing is the easiest way to nurture a budding conservationist. Whether it’s a kid catching their first trout, a comedian cracking jokes while learning to cast, or a weekend warrior finding peace on the water, it’s always special. The act of fishing is incredible, but people also get lost in the birds and trees and peacefulness of nature. Fly fishing isn’t just a hobby, it’s a way to connect with nature, with others, and with yourself.
Photo credit A.J. Gottschalk
One of my most memorable outdoor adventures was to New Zealand, it was a dream come to life. I spent two weeks hiking and fishing for wild brown trout in landscapes so beautiful they didn’t feel real. The rivers were impossibly clear, the birds sounded like an orchestra, and every step felt like walking through a painting. It was a place where the line between the natural world and the spiritual world blurred. What I brought home from New Zealand wasn’t just memories of giant trout or indescribable views—it was a deeper appreciation for the power of untouched nature and the communities that cherish it.
“I brought home a renewed sense of purpose—to not only enjoy these places but to fight for their survival so others can experience that same awe.”
Another place is Belize/Xcalack, Mexico. I have fully fallen in love with salt flats and permit, bonefish and tarpon – with tarpon being at the top of that list, followed by permit and bonefish. I was born and raised in the mountains, but I feel the closest to God when the sun rises on the beach, and I see nervous waters and tails on a calm salt flat. Part of my love and admiration stems from the lack of knowledge and the quick growth of new skills!
Photo credit Eeland Stribling
And now, if I could fish anywhere, it would be for tarpon. These fish are the ultimate challenge—massive, powerful, and as unpredictable as they are beautiful. Whether it’s West Africa, Costa Rica, Belize and Mexico, or the Florida Keys, tarpon fishing is like chasing silver ghosts. They demand respect and skill, and every encounter feels like a battle you’ll never forget. There’s just something magical about them that keeps me coming back. I love fish that eat other fish!
Photo credit Eeland Stribling
At home in Colorado, the Front Range is changing fast. Population growth is eating up wildlife habitat, and the pressure on our natural resources is immense. But what worries me most is “ballot box biology” — where decisions about wildlife management are made by public vote instead of science. It’s a system that can lead to emotional, uninformed choices that hurt the very ecosystems we’re trying to protect.
“We need decisions guided by evidence and science, not just good intentions.”
Steve Irwin said it best: “Humans want to save what they love.” My job is to help people fall in love with the natural world. Whether it’s a kid identifying their first animal track or a client catching their first trout, those moments create connections that last a lifetime. If I can inspire someone to care, I know they’ll fight to protect what they love, too. The future depends on it. Without conservation, the rivers will dry up, the forests will go silent, and the next generation won’t know what they’ve lost until it’s too late.
Conservation is how we honor the past and ensure the future. It’s what keeps the thrill of casting a line, the joy of tracking wildlife, and the magic of the outdoors alive for everyone who comes after us. Without it, the magic of the outdoors would fade.
The TRCP is your resource for all things conservation. In our weekly Roosevelt Report, you’ll receive the latest news on emerging habitat threats, legislation and proposals on the move, public land access solutions we’re spearheading, and opportunities for hunters and anglers to take action. Sign up now.
In the second installment of her family hunting camp stories,TRCP’s energy policy advisor McKay Fleck shares how the history of hunting camp expandswith every shared season
It had been six years since my dad and brother came deer hunting with me in Wyoming, and the itch for another family hunting trip needed to be scratched. We decided to go for elk this time, so we needed to make sure that my family had their cow elk tags well in advance. Luckily, they drew, and the hunt was planned. But it wouldn’t just be the three of us this time. My partner, Irah, and his father would be in camp with us.
Irah also has a 10×12 foot wall tent with a wood stove, similar to the one we bought in 2018. As fate would have it, the tents fit together perfectly and could be conjoined by the awning that tied to my wall tent. Our camp was growing.
The author’s father enjoying his tent.
We chose a campsite on BLM land close to the end of the road. Because of the type of tags my dad and brother had drawn, they were only able to hunt “off forest service land.” We did not have access to hunt on the patchwork of private land that checkers the mountain, so they were relegated to hunting opportunities on BLM and state trust land.
My dad arrived a few days earlier than my brother, giving us time to finish setting up camp and allowing my dad to acclimate to the altitude. We hunted from the house for a few days until my partner and his dad could join us on the mountain.
Unlike our first hunting camp in Wyoming, it was unseasonably warm and dry. Wildfires had burned over half a million acres in Wyoming by hunting season, and there was a fire ban preventing us from evening campfires. We made do with propane heaters at night and hunted in t-shirts during the day.
Dad filled the first tag with a cow elk, and when my brother arrived at camp the next night, he was happy to see that we had already been successful. Packing the same rifle we had all hunted with in 2018, he was eager to head to the mountain the next day. It was going to be quite a hike: two miles along an easement through private land, bushwhacking up a steep slope, skirting the face of a cliff, and scrambling up a scree field just to stay on BLM land to reach a place that sometimes holds elk.
The elk weren’t there.
That evening in camp, with all five of us crammed around the propane heater of the wall-tent, we brainstormed strategies for the next day. Over our steaming bowls of chili, we cussed and discussed our options. My brother was surprisingly optimistic after the 12-mile hike, and our dad volunteered to take him on an easier hunt the next day. Irah and I would hunt on Forest Service land where our tags were legal. We squeezed past each other in the tent as we packed our lunches for the next day. It was crowded, but comfortable, as we filled it with new memories.
Late nights lead to lasting memories in hunting camp.
Because of the unusually hot and dry weather, tracks littered the pine needle duff of the forest, refusing to decay under the parched conditions. The tracks were unbothered by moisture, so it was difficult to identify a track as fresh or weeks old. Irritation grew as Irah and I followed spur trails that at first looked so promising, only to wither into obscurity. Combine our hunting frustration with being hungry and tired, and we were both ready to abandon the mission by noon.
We were walking back to the truck when I saw a pile of big, black nuggets shining in the duff.
“Poop!” I whispered excitedly to Irah as he walked around me.
“That’s the freshest thing we’ve seen all day,” he said as he continued walking.
“There could be a bull close by! We need to slow down!” All my weariness had dissipated with the possibility of elk.
“Well, good thing he’s headed back to the truck, because that’s where I’m going!” Irah said, not bothering to whisper.
Suddenly, he dropped to one knee and brought up his rifle. I dropped, too, not sure what he was seeing. I heard the crash of an elk running through the timber and we both ran for a short distance, listening for which direction it had gone.
Hunting isn’t just a hobby in our family. It pervades generations, providing food and bonding experiences across time. The tents that keep us warm and dry, the rifles that shoot straight, and the traditions we share nourish us like the meat from the animals we harvest.
“That was a big bull! All I saw was his butt, and then he turned his head,” Irah said.
“Why didn’t you take a shot?”
“Because I didn’t have a good target. I wasn’t going to take an unethical shot and risk losing a wounded animal,” he explained. My partner is one of the most careful hunters I’ve ever met.
“Well, then let’s go find him!” I urged excitedly.
“No way. He’s gone. I’m tired, hungry, and there’s no way we’re going to catch him now.”
I looked Irah square in the eyes and said, “Then don’t ruin it for me.”
“I won’t.” He turned and walked away.
I wasn’t about to let someone else’s attitude impact my hunt, so I turned and started to follow the elk’s tracks.
I tracked the bull for an hour and a half. He weaved in and out of the trees, up and down slopes, stopping and doubling back on his tracks, trying to lose me. His path was erratic, winding around the forest like Christmas lights in storage. It was exhausting, but I continued to follow out of sheer curiosity.
Tracking is one of my favorite things to do in the woods. Everywhere we went, my dad and grandad pointed out the different tracks we saw from the coast to the Cascades. Even outside of season, I practice following tracks. It’s a great way to learn about animal behavior. I decided that I wouldn’t give up until he walked on private land, or it grew too dark to see.
Eventually, he led me to a bold trail that contained a multitude of elk, deer, and hunter’s tracks. I feared I would lose him amid the myriad symbols in the sand, but sporadically I would see his track, large, round, and fresh in the dirt. I felt a sense of urgency as the bull entered this trail, and I quickened my pace. I was able to travel quietly on the path, but I was also more visible. The tracks suddenly veered off the trail, and that’s when I finally saw him.
We weren’t that far off the trail when I caught up to him, standing broadside looking at me about 50 yards away through the dense lodgepole pine forest. I couldn’t see how big he was, only that he was alone and had antlers. Kneeling, I waited for the split second when I had enough of a target between the trees. When I took my opportunity, he dropped.
All smiles on a long packout.
I met Irah back at the truck, carrying my rifle and what I could of the elk. It was about 3:30 p.m. and there was still a lot of work to do and not much daylight left. I gave Irah the coordinates for where I had left the carcass so he could finish butchering the elk while I went back to camp to get my brother.
When I rolled into camp, everyone was excited to hear that I had a bull down, but now the real work had begun. My brother grabbed his pack, I refilled my water bottles, and our dad packed us snacks to bring back to Irah. As I pulled away, I leaned out of the truck window and shouted back to my dad.
“Don’t start worrying about us until after midnight!” As if I could ever convince him to quit worrying about us for any length of time. With that, my brother and I left in a cloud of dust.
Irah already had the elk completely boned out and in game bags by the time my brother and I reached him. His mood had greatly improved since he left me in the forest, but his penance was not fully paid until we put about 100 pounds of meat in his backpack and hiked three miles to the truck. We finally arrived back at camp at 9 p.m., hungry and exhausted. Our dads had dinner on the stove and drinks poured before we could unload the game bags. We settled back under the awning of the tent like we had the night before, this time celebrating a hard-earned success. The tent was filled with stories of elk that night as my brother and partner repacked their bags for another morning hunt.
The next day we looked at the bull’s antlers in the daylight. He had a tiny devil’s point on his right side, and a small whale-tail on the left, making him an atypical 7×7.
“That’s the biggest bull anyone in our family has ever harvested,” my dad told me the next day as we drank our coffee from tin cups. He spoke from 50 years of experience hunting Roosevelt elk in the Cascade Range of Oregon.
The author’s 2024 Wyoming public land bull.
Hunting isn’t just a hobby in our family. It pervades generations, providing food and bonding experiences across time. The tents that keep us warm and dry, the rifles that shoot straight, and the traditions we share nourish us like the meat from the animals we harvest. They all have their histories, they all contain lessons, and those lessons teach us, generation after generation.
The TRCP is your resource for all things conservation. In our weekly Roosevelt Report, you’ll receive the latest news on emerging habitat threats, legislation and proposals on the move, public land access solutions we’re spearheading, and opportunities for hunters and anglers to take action. Sign up now.
The MAPWaters Act would improve recreation on federal waterways by investing in modern technology to provide anglers, hunters, boaters, and other water users the information they need to safely and legally access and utilize public waters administered by federal agencies.
The bipartisan legislation is led by Rep. Blake Moore (R-Utah), Rep. Jimmy Panetta (D-Calif.), Rep. Russ Fulcher (R-Idaho), and Rep. Debbie Dingell (D-Mich.).
“The MAPWaters Act will help Americans make the most of their days on the water by directing federal agencies to clarify the complex rules of public waterways and making them readily available,” said Joel Pedersen, president and CEO of the Theodore Roosevelt Conservation Partnership. “This bipartisan legislation will ensure Americans recreate safely and legally as they enjoy our nations waters.”
The MAPWaters Act builds on the success of the MAPLand Act by directing federal agencies to digitize water and fishing access and recreational use information on federal waterways and to make those resources readily available to the public. Federal waterways include any portion of a body of water managed, or partially managed, by one or more of the following federal agencies: the Bureau of Reclamation, the National Park Service, the Bureau of Land Management, the United States Fish and Wildlife Service, and the Forest Service.
This newly digitized public information would include:
• Status information on which waterways are open or closed to entry or watercraft, including watercraft inspection or decontamination requirements.
• The areas of waterways with restrictions on motorized propulsion, horsepower, or gasoline fuel.
• Types of watercraft that are restricted on each area of a waterway, including the permissibility of canoes, rafts, motorboats, airboats, oversnow vehicles on frozen bodies of water, etc.
• The location and geographic boundaries of fishing restrictions on recreational and commercial fishing, including full or partial closures, no-take zones, and fishing restrictions within or surrounding marine protected areas.
• Fishing restrictions concerning specific types of equipment or bait, such as restrictions on the use of barbed hooks or live bait and requirements with respect to catch and release.
Much of this information is housed in agency documents and difficult for the public to discover and access. For example, in the Code of Federal Regulations, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service includes 42 pages worth of National Wildlife Refuge specific recreation rules, many of which are tied to waterway navigation, use, and fishing.
The clarity and accessibility of regulations for both the public and the agencies entrusted to manage these waters will result in more Americans confidently accessing and enjoying their public waters.
Learn more about TRCP’s commitment to public access HERE.
Photo credit: Gregg Flores
HOW YOU CAN HELP
TRCP has partnered with Afuera Coffee Co. to further our commitment to conservation. $4 from each bag is donated to the TRCP, to help continue our efforts of safeguarding critical habitats, productive hunting grounds, and favorite fishing holes for future generations.
