THE CABIN OF THE TRUCK is booming with tribal chants and is illuminated only by various maintenance-malfunction lights. It is 5 a.m. in October, somewhere on the 640,000-acre Warm Springs Reservation in the frigid high desert of Central Oregon, when fishing guide Matt Mendes stubs out his cigarette and takes the wheel. He drives past his child’s mini four-wheeler, antler sheds in the lawn, and a porta potty, then down dark tribal roads for several long minutes before feeling the need to turn on his headlights.
I ask what we’re listening to.
Matt seems confused. “Indian music.”
“I’m asking…what it’s about, what are they saying?”
“War music,” he says. “They’re saying, ‘let’s swing a steelhead.’”
We laugh. Matt flashes his smile. He is a man of understated looks and gestures. Quick takes and short
