Montany

It's tough to describe how wonderful our 4th of July weekend was. We spent it in the mountains around Livingston, Montana, at the cabin of John Works, boyfriend of our Austin friend Kimberly. The entire weekend--the fishing, the eating, the drinking, the boating, the hours of sitting and reading and staring at a view up the valley that warranted charging by the hour--was beyond any of our wildest expectations.

It was great to see Kimberly and John and to be able to hang out with them in such a relaxing, striking setting. We were up in the area of the West Boulder River, or one of the West Boulder forks or drainages, in the Absaroka Mountains just north of Yellowstone. We spent our days on or by or in the river, whether the West Boulder across the road from the cabin, or the same waterway further down where it widened out and rushed white over the rocks, or way further up, above a beautiful meadow and a set of waterfalls, in a stretch of pools that seem out of a fisherman's dream.

And we fished, too. I can see why people get into this flyfishing thing. I was lucky enough for my first experience to be in this setting with a guide and tutor as capable as John. He was insanely patient, giving up the good spots to both Kimberly and I, walking the banks and the water with me to point out the good spots, to teach me to read the water and to know where the fish tend to be, to know how to work my way through a stretch of water to catch fish.



The movements of casting, the silent flow of it all, combined with spending the day hip deep in a gorgeous river focusing insistently on the water and this looping line proved too much for my defenses. I fear I have yet another addiction. Time will tell, but John has seeded the cloud, as it were, handing over a gorgeous deep green fly rod, handmade in Fort Worth, TX, along with a very nice reel and a silver metal rod case. A business proposition, he called it, giving me the gear in exchange for my showing him the good spots when he comes to Idaho.



There was no refusing. A magnificent gesture.

So, besides the fishing and the hiking to fish and the constant play of the dogs in the water and the fields and the great meals full of wine and talk and relaxing...


...we attended a 4th of July picnic among other residents of the valley that made it truly feel like the 4th. I had a hot dog and a hamburger, plenty of beer, and then sat and listened to a couple of the folks pick out traditional tunes on guitars and sing. We joined in when we could. It was so America, so nice an experience.



All in all a wonderful trip. Relaxing and energizing. Sad to leave, excited to fish. On with the summer!