So you see, back in the before time (before Moosefish, actually) I didn't hike all that much. I had been raised as an outdoorsy kid, but I had been taught the only reason to walk on a trail was to get to a river or a lake that you could fish. Thanks, Dad.
My summer memories were made up of brutal, difficult hikes straight up hill to get to a magical meadow where the creek was full of huge trout. Like most memories from childhood, these were false. Sure, we'd do a hike, but it wasn't a hard hike. In fact, the one that comes to mind immediately was all of about two miles and 500 feet of gain. That's a Monday morning hike on my local trail after a hard weekend hike.
Now I'm older and wiser and I recognize the wonders of hiking. But I can also enjoy floating a big river like the Missouri and seeing huge trout swim under the boat. And if I catch something, that's a bonus.
We (me and Mr. Moosefish, Sr.) and I drove from home to Clinton, Montana the first day. That's a long drive. Usually, we sneak in an hour or so on Rock Creek before dark, but the creek was swollen by record rains and snow melt so we had to go hiking. I know. The humanity.
Lucky for Dad, there was a lovely little trail that wandered through some trees near where Rock Creek flowed into the Clark Fork River. It was plenty smoky thanks to an early smoke season, but that just made the sunset more spectacular.
By noon the next day we were on the Missouri east of Helena. We fished with the same guide as always because when there are fish to be caught, Tim's your guy. The weather was perfect and although the elders in our party caught a ton, I got only a couple.
The next day we started early (too early) and were immediately on the fish. The Missouri might look like a big, slow moving, featureless river, but that's why you have a guide. Tim knew where to put us and even though I was way out of practice, we did very well. In fact, I landed a rainbow that was big enough Tim wanted pictures to show his guide buddies. When the guide is impressed, you know it's a good fish.
Since it was mid-May, there was tons of wildlife on the river. The Canada Geese had been busy and every pair seemed to have at least five goslings. Beavers slapped their tails, bulls gave us dirty looks as we floated by, and people recoiled in horror as Mr. Snake fueled our nightmares by swimming across the river!
It was a great day and a half on the river and quality time with Dad in the car on the long drive home. Who knows. Maybe I'll even fish more in the near future. <Insert heavy foreshadowing here.>
