Sage & Simplicity
I sit transcribing our interview while the man I write about carefully filets thawed meat shot in Montana. The smells of olive oil and sautéed onions drift into our living room. Don’t they say you should write about subjects that inspire you? Here goes.
Surf·er noun
a person who rides a wave toward the shore while standing or lying on a surfboard.
Hunt·er noun
a person who hunts game or other wild animals for food or in sport.
“I don’t like labels…calling myself a surfer or hunter. They’re only useful to explain what I like to do. They’re more verbs than titles,” Seth Merdler explains. Within a few weeks of knowing this man, I knew he was going to impact my life. This “hunter” / “surfer” / “chef” / “jack of all trades” exudes passion…quietly. Watching him wax his surfboard and scan the ocean horizon for waves. Observing as he confidently works a knife over chives. This is a person who excels at anything he sets his mind to. Where does that meritorious drive come from?
Raised in Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin Seth had a childhood not unlike other boys his age. When he wasn’t playing hockey, football or baseball, you could find him biking around his suburban neighborhood but season after season, life revolved around sports. “My interests weren’t really based on grand ideas...it was more about what was in the moment. Most people were really into Michael Jordan and I was too,” he says with a smile. Requiring finesse and the delicate skill of working within inches, hockey was his favorite. These characteristics paint a theme that would color Seth’s passions into adulthood.
College brought new challenges, specifically deciding what he wanted his educational focus to be. Seth toured University of Wisconsin–Stevens Point and vividly remembers one of the professors reiterating how challenging the college was. Seeking an enlightening curriculum but not necessarily a school that wouldn’t be enjoyable, he attended University of Wisconsin Oshkosh and started general education. A year later, he felt confident in his decision to transfer to University of Wisconsin–Milwaukee, where he majored in Civil Engineering. “In a way, that professor was right. If I had known how hard it was going to be, maybe I wouldn’t have done it. Sometimes it’s better not to know,” he says.
Most of his peers went on to find an internship with a firm. Not one to conform, Seth instead found a different kind of education working as a ranch hand on the property his uncle resided in Montana. Landscape adorned only with yellow grass and the earthy scents of sage and aging leather filled the air here. Strong work ethic, learned horse sense and practicality became integral. Seth had to start from the basics when it came to riding horses and after initially bouncing in the saddle, he gained strength in knowing how best to engage. He explains, “Simple is hard. It’s best working with horses unemotionally. I don’t mean not being connected or feeling anything, I mean you don’t get frustrated when it doesn’t understand what you want.” Frustration can cloud actions. “It’s not a cold and orderly process. I was only there for two summers but if you gave me a horse, I feel like I could get somewhere with it now.”
During his time out of the classroom in college, Seth found more occasions to connect with nature. Acknowledging that he didn’t have the passion for conventional engineering, he searched for ways to bridge the gap between environmental science topics and engineering, and preferred to live in that space. Oftentimes, literally.
This was directly experienced in the backcountry of the Sierras in the summer before his final school semester. Working for the Forest Service, their group would sleep in a workspot for 9 days or so, then trek back to their provided housing. Their purpose was constructing check dams to restore streams in California’s Golden Trout Wilderness. His life and body working the land was fueled by mule trains that would haul in their food inside metal panniers, so that bears couldn’t ravage the load. Potatoes, dried salami, canned chicken, fresh fish when they could catch it and foraged wild raspberries were regular menu items. It was at this time that Seth found joy in a similarly untamed environment.
California beaches, specifically the waves that crashed onto them, had been a draw for years. During college, Seth recalls ordering movies from Netflix and watching them wide-eyed in his parents basement. His passion for surfing was born and he vowed to make it a prominent part of his life – he only needed a strong tide to get him to West Coast waters.
Fate had it that there was an opportunity, after he graduated, in Southern California with the Bureau of Land Management (BLM). Friday through Monday, you could find Seth in the desolate Mojave Desert working on OHV trail maintenance. Days off were spent, you guessed it, surfing. “The first day I had, I drove to Ventura and bought a used surfboard (the one I still have now) and would surf non-stop for days in a row, sleeping in a campsite on the ocean,” he reflects.
As with anything, consistency is key. All those hours in the cold white foam added up and riding waves became as natural as drawing a bow. “You don’t get anything from surfing, so it’s nice to have something that’s joyful. Although, it’s not just bliss. It can be challenging and scary. When you are afraid it makes you appreciate things.” I nod in understanding.
For 3 months, Seth worked in the sand. Knowing his time in Southern California would eventually end, he began seeking a more permanent destination to call home. “During my time in the desert, I was pumping out a lot of job applications for the government and had someone at the BLM helping me out,” he says. Cactus dotting the red rock canyons of Arizona, hazy city lights enveloped by barren desert in Las Vegas – both were potential glimpses into Seth’s future. But the infamous California sunshine and briny ocean air called him West. He secured a job as an Environmental Engineer at Travis Air Force Base and moved to Sacramento in 2015. Though his new job provided stability, he still craved wild environments that tested his limits. This reignited his passion for hunting.
Throughout much of his life, the pursuit of game has been a cornerstone. An avid sportsman, Seth’s dad taught him the skills necessary to survive and thrive in untamed landscapes. When asked what draws him to hunting, “A lot of it comes down to putting food on the table. On top of that, there’s adventure and excitement and challenge. Hunting tests your grit, not just physically but can you sit still for 2 hours? Can you be patient? There’s a go-after it mentality and a wait until the right moment attitude, and you need to know when to choose.”
When he describes the different elements of meat and the stories that go along with each hunt, this writer can’t help but be intrigued. Carrying an elk over his back for miles knowing bears were nearby, tracking turkeys for days where cell service doesn’t exist, ducks circling rice fields as guns poise below – the lived experiences are endless. Applying the skills he deeply absorbed in the backcountry, hunting is not simply a hobby but a lifestyle.
Today, Seth continues to wake with the sun. Each morning he pushes onto dirt speckled pedals and rides his bike to the train station, which takes him close to the base, then hops back onto two wheels to finish the trek to work. When he’s not researching environmental impacts and regulations there, any free time is spent progressing a medley of hobbies, projects and valued relationships. Restoration of his 1915 craftsman is an ongoing avocation and brings different value to the term “home.” The art of hunting and surfing continues to be a keystone. On weekends, Seth can often be found wetsuit clad in Santa Cruz or tramping camo covered through fields.
“I do see the course of everything, and that’s a comforting feeling when you’re in the moment and you look back and the trajectory is in a really good direction. I have more experience now and more things to say,” he ends. We’re listening.
