How a Week at Bamboo Bend Helps Veterans Heal

This article was originally titled "Bamboo Bend" in the Feb-Mar 2026 issue of Fly Fisherman magazine.

To learn more about Bamboo Bend, or to make a donation, visit them on Facebook at Bamboo Bend Handcrafted Healing. 

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Like many veterans, I live with the physical pain of service-connected trauma and the invisible weight of PTSD. When I was selected to attend Bamboo Bend, a weeklong bamboo rod-building program created specifically for disabled veterans, I knew it would be more than just a trip. But I did not expect it to change me.

Founded in 2012 by Victor Edwards and Jim Ottevaere, Bamboo Bend brings eight veterans together each year with some of the finest bamboo rod makers in the world. The mission is simple and powerful: Handcraft a bamboo fly rod from raw culm to polished varnish using only traditional hand tools. The outcome is a piece of functional art—and something far more valuable, a process of renewal.

My journey began in Newark, Ohio. I headed north and stopped in southern Michigan to pick up Rowena Darvin, a fellow Army veteran. We had never met, but the long drive opened the door to conversation. Rowena shared stories from her 20-year military career, including her time as an all-wheel vehicle mechanic, helicopter mechanic, and human resources NCO. She spoke quietly about her deployment to Iraq in 2005 and the challenges that followed. She has faced PTSD, military sexual trauma, and ongoing struggles with cancer caused by toxic exposure during her service.

“At my age, it is difficult to make new friends,” she said.

Her honesty stuck with me. We bonded over shared experiences, and by the time we reached Lovells, Michigan, I knew we were not just two participants in a program. We were becoming friends.

The North Branch Outing Club in Lovells, Michigan felt like entering another world. The lodge, once a retreat for Henry Ford and Thomas Edison, held a quiet magic. The pine-heavy air and creaking wooden floors gave the place a sense of memory. It felt sacred, as though the river had whispered stories into the walls for a hundred years.

The next morning, we stepped into the field behind the Lovells Community Hall and began casting practice. Peter Jones, one of the instructors, guided us through the mechanics of casting bamboo. The polished rods gleamed in the sunlight as they flexed and flew forward. The air was cold and clear, and there was a quiet understanding among us that this week was going to matter.

The real work started afterward. Inside the hall, we spent four days transforming raw cane into fly rods. We split, flamed, planed, and measured strips of bamboo down to the thousandth of an inch. The scent of toasted cane filled the air while the sound of hand planes created a rhythm that grounded us. It was meticulous, meditative, and physically exhausting.

“The level of detail it takes in creating the rod definitely helps me transfer all my energy and thought into the process,” Rowena told me. “It’s relaxing and calming.” I felt the same way.

Every pass of the plane pushed the noise of the outside world a little farther away. Working with only hand tools forced me to slow down and focus on the details. The concentration required helped quiet the mental noise that comes from years of battling PTSD.

Lead instructor Dave Jankowski had seen this before. “On day one, the vets are shy and unsure if they can make a rod at all,” he said. “By day seven, they are confident, laughing, proud. I come back every year to see that change. It is life changing.”

At midweek, while our rods cured in polyurethane, we fished the Holy Waters of the Au Sable River. My instructor, Steve Taylor, handed me a Hendrickson fly he had tied. I tied it on and cast upstream. A brown trout rose and took it gently from the surface.

The rod tubes are custom hand-built donations from Chris Sparkman, a rodmaker from Virginia, whose son served in the military. He was inspired to get involved with Bamboo Bend after meeting a wounded veteran in Washington D.C. and by his son’s service. Visit Facebook @Sparchimedes Rod Company LLC to see more of his work. 

Smaller but beautifully patterned brook trout flashed in and out of the current, their orange bellies glowing in the sunlight. The Au Sable-style boat, long and quiet, drifted softly in the current. The water moved over golden gravel and among ancient pines. It felt like the river knew us, and welcomed us home.

Evenings were filled with story and warmth. Jim Bensinger, a former student turned volunteer, cooked meals that brought everyone together. Around the firepit behind the lodge, we shared stories and silence beneath a canopy of stars. Mark Mackey, a Marine veteran and the president of Bamboo Bend, sat nearby.

“Most of the instructors and volunteers say this is their favorite week of the year,” he told me. “We are a one hundred percent volunteer organization. Every cent goes to the program.”

In the final days, we turned to fly tying. Sam Surre led the morning session. In the afternoon, Al Borchers taught us how to tie the Borchers Special, a family pattern passed down from his great uncle, Ernie Borchers. Watching the materials come together under his careful instruction was like watching a tradition come to life. We were not just tying flies. We were being handed a piece of history.

At the closing ceremony, each of us was presented with our finished rod in a hexagonal wood case crafted by Chris Sparkman, a talented rod maker from Virginia. His story is rooted in compassion. Years ago, while his own son was in basic training, he saw a young wounded veteran at the monuments in Washington. “From that moment on, I knew I had to do something to serve,” he said. “And I have not looked back.”

Rowena stood beside me during the ceremony. Her eyes welled up with emotion. “They cared so much,” she said. “Giving us handmade nets, signed books, meals, and tools. It meant everything.”

I looked at my new fly rod, then around the room at the people I had grown to respect and admire. I arrived at the event wondering if I could even finish the build. I left with more than a completed rod. I left with a friend beside me, a quieter mind, and a heart that felt whole again.

Bamboo Bend is not easy. The work is demanding. The days are long. But the reward, the friendship, the craftsmanship, the peace, are all things I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

Jaron McCoy is a U.S. Army combat veteran who was a paratrooper, machine gun team leader, and vehicle recovery technician. He served with the 2nd Battalion, 504th Parachute Infantry Regiment of the 82nd Airborne Division. He is now an assistant program lead with Project Healing Waters Fly Fishing.

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