Hi, I'm Travis.

Many of my favorite memories were made on California's Eel River. My family has spent generations enjoying its waters, and growing up I heard stories from my grandfather about salmon runs so abundant they seemed almost impossible to imagine today. As a kid, I experienced a river that still felt full of life. Over time, I also watched it change.

Like many people who care deeply about wild places, I found myself asking the same question over and over:

For years, I didn't have an answer.

Then I realized something.

Technology had reached a point where someone with curiosity, persistence, and a willingness to learn could begin contributing in ways that weren't possible just a few years ago.

So I started learning.

At first, I knew almost nothing about computer vision. I leaned on AI as a teacher, spent evenings reading, experimenting, making mistakes, and trying again. Every small success opened the door to the next challenge. Before long, I wasn't just learning about the technology—I was using it to collect real data, ask better questions, and build relationships with people who have spent their careers restoring fisheries.

See where the technology stands today →

Sometimes that means building learning programs that help thousands of people grow. Sometimes it's building a computer vision model from scratch. Other times it's a DIY project at home or teaching my daughters how to fish. I've found that the process is remarkably similar: start with curiosity, keep learning, don't be afraid to make mistakes, and build things that help leave them better than you found them.

Professionally, I've spent my career leading projects, developing people, solving complex problems, and turning ideas into practical solutions. Those experiences taught me something that applies just as well to conservation as it does to business:

That belief has been reinforced over and over while building Current Sight. Fisheries scientists, restoration practitioners, conservation organizations, friends, and family have generously shared their time, knowledge, encouragement, and data. Their willingness to invest in someone who was eager to learn reminds me that meaningful conservation has never been the work of one person. It has always been a team effort.

When I'm not working on Current Sight, you'll usually find me with my wife and three daughters, introducing them to the outdoors, planning the next fishing trip, tackling a DIY project, or figuring out how to build something I've never built before.

I don't expect to have all the answers. I do believe that if enough curious people are willing to learn, collaborate, and contribute, we can leave our rivers healthier than we found them. I want Current Sight to be my contribution to that effort.

This is still the beginning.

There's more to learn, more relationships to build, and many more miles of river ahead.

I couldn't be more excited for the journey.

After all, meaningful conservation has never belonged to one person.

It belongs to everyone willing to leave it better than they found it.