Yesterday was indeed a glorious day of floating and fly fishing. We all three caught a Jesus size load of fish that, if we'd not given them back to the river, would have capsized our small, humble vessel. These were no small, stream brook trout or squishy, tame eastern trout either. These were wild, river pigs. The water ran cold and strong. The air bit a little and froze the water on our fly rods into balls of ice that you had to thaw out with for fingers and then your mouth when your fingers were too cold to do the job, but it warmed up into the day and the wind stayed away and the moss stayed down and the fish hits were fierce and frequent. I couldn't ask for a more perfect day. A grand thank you is in order for a Mr. Jeromy Emerling, the progenitor and planner of the day. Thank You.
The Bighorn; one of the great rivers of the world along with the Nile, the Amazon, and the Jordan. It's a tail water river flowing through prairie and rolling hills. The water flows a perfect 40 degrees all year round so it's a fisherman's paradise on mild winter days and hot summer days and any day really. It's an unflappable river. I like to think its just naturally that perfect, one of God's creations, but there's a massive wall of concrete from which floweth the living waters and that's just the truth. Without the dam then it'd just be a muddy, piss-hole of a river. So I guess technology has blessed me in this way and if I'm honest with myself I wish they'd dam the Clarks Fork of the Yellowstone too. What a fishery that could be! Is this wrong?
I've come away with a few thoughts from this trip that I'd like to work through so I'll post them in a series. They come in the form of questions. What is local? How does fly-fishing fit in with an agrarian mindset? Does Wendell Berry fish? Why is fishing important and what does it represent? Is it wrong to burn up a few gallons of fuel and 80 miles of road to go fishing? And finally, what the hell is Eggless Vegan Canola based Mayonaise and why does it exist? These and more later.
Before I take leave I'd like to quote a bit of scripture. You may remember this verse. It's quite famous in this state although there's some controversy in encylical circles as to it's divine inspiration. I personally don't see any reason to believe otherwise. It merely backs up the biblical personality of one Montana river. Enjoy.
So says Song of Salmon Chapter 3 verses 1-6.
I've come away with a few thoughts from this trip that I'd like to work through so I'll post them in a series. They come in the form of questions. What is local? How does fly-fishing fit in with an agrarian mindset? Does Wendell Berry fish? Why is fishing important and what does it represent? Is it wrong to burn up a few gallons of fuel and 80 miles of road to go fishing? And finally, what the hell is Eggless Vegan Canola based Mayonaise and why does it exist? These and more later.
Before I take leave I'd like to quote a bit of scripture. You may remember this verse. It's quite famous in this state although there's some controversy in encylical circles as to it's divine inspiration. I personally don't see any reason to believe otherwise. It merely backs up the biblical personality of one Montana river. Enjoy.
So says Song of Salmon Chapter 3 verses 1-6.
Daughters of Montana, I charge you
by the gazelles and by the does of the prairie:
A river arises east of here
A rose of Sharon
And a Lily of the field.
What is this coming out of the mountains
like a column of smoke,
perfumed with myrrh and incense
made from all the spices of the merchant?
Look! It is Solomon's drift boat,
escorted by three fisherman and two oars,
the noblest of Montana,
all of them wearing the fly rod,
all experienced in battle,
each with his rod at his side,
prepared for the riffles of the day.
Hyde made for this king the drift boat;
he made it of aluminum from Manitowoc.
Its posts he made of fiberglass,
its base of the finest aluminum.
Its seat was upholstered with white plastic,
its interior lovingly inlaid
by the daughters of Ireland
with cans of Guinness.
See how it glides on thou lovely seam of water.
into its arms like a lover.
Come out, you daughters of Montana,
and look at King Solomon carrying his Trout,
the crown with which his river crowned him
on the day of his fishing,
the day his heart rejoiced.
by the gazelles and by the does of the prairie:
A river arises east of here
A rose of Sharon
And a Lily of the field.
What is this coming out of the mountains
like a column of smoke,
perfumed with myrrh and incense
made from all the spices of the merchant?
Look! It is Solomon's drift boat,
escorted by three fisherman and two oars,
the noblest of Montana,
all of them wearing the fly rod,
all experienced in battle,
each with his rod at his side,
prepared for the riffles of the day.
Hyde made for this king the drift boat;
he made it of aluminum from Manitowoc.
Its posts he made of fiberglass,
its base of the finest aluminum.
Its seat was upholstered with white plastic,
its interior lovingly inlaid
by the daughters of Ireland
with cans of Guinness.
See how it glides on thou lovely seam of water.
into its arms like a lover.
Come out, you daughters of Montana,
and look at King Solomon carrying his Trout,
the crown with which his river crowned him
on the day of his fishing,
the day his heart rejoiced.
One for memory banks. I don't know that I've ever seen you more content than when you're dancing a fly on a riffle.
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