I don’t remember any summer vacations growing up that weren’t spent in Montana. The family would rent a motorhome and we’d drive from river to river for the first two weeks in August. As flyfishermen, it was the ultimate pilgrimage to some of the best trout streams in the country, if not the world. I remember a feeling of dread as the trip ended because it meant there were only two weeks left before school started, but while we were in Montana I had few worries.

Nowadays even a vacation has responsibilities. Kids, dog, a job that won’t stop emailing; all these keep me from slipping into that zero-worry state from childhood. As relaxing as a three-day backpack in the backcountry is, I’m still constantly concerned for the well-being of the kids. So vacations where I’m the adult aren’t really vacations.

That’s one of the reasons I enjoy fishing with my father...

You can read the rest of the story in River Sports Magazine - Montana Mine, Queen of the Golden West. A version with more pictures and additional information can be found here on moosefish.