(Sorry folks. As usual when I get started with these things I get very
prolix. Bear with me.)

I'm not, by nature, a traveler.

But taking a trip out west to do some trouting has been in the back of
my mind for a couple of years. This year we agreed that hell or high
gas prices we'd make the trip.

We left Merrill at 10 pm on Saturday the 5th. The plan was to drive
through the night and pull off to rest after we reached Montana Sunday
afternoon. We had access to the cabin on the West Boulder starting
Monday the 7th. We spent Sunday night in the dilapidated old city of
Forsyth. A railroad hub it still revealed aspects of its former
prosperity in a few buildings on Main St. but the overgrown sidewalks
and empty houses that stared panelessly out on those same walks were a
truer testament of its stature these days. The Interstate has given it
some measure of purpose with a street lined with motels and gas
stations and the Burlington Northern still has an office there. But it
was obvious that Forsyth was enduring hard times.

The motel was old but clean. The air conditioner strained mightily to
cool the kitchenette's three rooms in the 90 degree heat and actually
made the place sleepable. There was Animal Planet on the TV for Mason
and a coffee maker for Jacci and me. I made a personal re-acquaintance
with the goathead thorns of my Colorado days while walking the dogs.
It wasn't a bad stop over but I was relieved when we pulled out the
next day.

We drove past a pall of smoke rising from an unseen wildfire between
the "I" and the Yellowstone River. Further west we passed miles of
burned dry-land forest/prairie around Custer and Hardin. This was
somewhat worrying as there had been a small fire in the next drainage
over from the cabin, on South Pine Creek, and an even larger one near
to Yellowstone. We didn't know what we'd find. When we reached Big
Timber we made a quick stop at the IGA (nice place and people) and the
flyshop, Sweetcast Flyfishing, to get our licenses. Then it was up
into the mountains.

The road went from pavement to gravel to gravel/rock. The last 7 miles
took about 20 minutes to cover and went through the holdings of,
supposedly, Michael Keaton and Tom Brokaw. During the next week we
made numerous, unverifiable Brokaw and Keaton sightings. Whoever the
drivers were, it must be said that for a little rocky road, West Big
Rock Road hosted a very high percentage of pricey, upper end SUVs.

We reached the cabin. It was snugged up against a rocky bend in the
river. VT had preceded us by a day. His stuff was neatly stacked in a
small corner of the three room building. It was soon overcome by all
the crap we had brought from Wisconsin. To be fair, we (meaning Jacci)
had volunteered to do the cooking for the whole week and we had two
coolers full of things like steaks, roasts, milk and eggs. But there
were also packs and boxes of waders and fly tying materials and
trekking poles and headlamps and bear spray. We tried to limit the
Cleveland Chaos from spilling over to the rest of the cabin from our
bedroom but it wasn't always a successful endeavor. Some of it I would
drag out and forget, some of it the dogs would. In general though the
cabin floor was easy to walk across and the window ledges uncluttered
enough to open and shut the sliding multi-paned windows.

http://fishskicanoe.tripod.com/geopics/IMG_0223.JPG
The West Big Rock Cabin

http://fishskicanoe.tripod.com/geopics/IMG_0224a.jpg
The River Behind the Cabin

After we unpacked we headed for the river. VT had warned us about the
lack of trout in what seemed to be obvious places but it still came as
a surprise to drift dries and nymphs through numerous pieces of
holding water with nary a bite nor bump. Finally, along about sun
down, I hooked and landed a big whitefish. But that was it for the
evening. The rest of the day was spent on the porch, talking and
drinking beer. A little after dark a big full moon struggled up over
the mountainside to the east. The cabin windows glowed out into the
moonlit night.

The next day VT and I were headed up to the Meadows...

http://fishskicanoe.tripod.com/geopi.../IMG_0233a.jpg
VT and Jacci on the Porch


(More...fortunately or unfortunately... to come)


Geo. C.