A smoke-filled sunset over the Gallatin Range.
I’m in the middle of a non-stop work run (and not the fun kind of work). Yesterday I had an early evening off and made a mad dash for the river and the mountains.
Sometimes you just have to get away.
I ran up the Gallatin Canyon and pulled off in the upper regions of Yellowstone National Park. A wildland fire helicopter was being refueled not far from where I parked – they like to stay away from the tourists as well. I rigged up the rod and headed down to the waters of the Gallatin.
The smoke was as bad as I’ve seen it. Growing up amongst wildland fires, the smell is rather homey and brings back lots of memories and I don’t mind it in the least.
And it keeps tourist traffic down on the rivers.
It was windy and cooling – a cold front was slated to blow through overnight and I was not expecting much in the way of fishing. As luck would have it, an hour or so in, I had a take. A fairly spectacular take, for these waters. Fish on! Brought him in and quickly did a “Teva measurement” – he was about 12-13″ long. Not bad for a Gallatin fish. Then I heard to tell tale whirr of a helo spinning up and I – like an idiot – glanced over my shoulder. The rod dipped and – shake, shake – he was gone.
It happens. I was happy with one fish. Frankly, I would have been okay without hooking into anything. It was a night to escape into the smoke and the mountains for a little while.
Gear at work.
I cast about for a while longer, then, just as it was getting too dark to see my fly, I heard a tell-tale “whoofing” noise come from the brush not far away. I’ve heard it before and am not in a hurry to hear it again. I packed my bags and retreated to the Fire Girl Suby.
No bears for me tonight.
Tags: Rivers
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