I attempt to hold my fly rod high above the deep mud and bison excrement as I trudge through the pervasive muck. With my other hand, I thumb the orange safety clip of the bear spray, listening for a rustle or a growl to warn me of an imminent attack. As I approach the river, a cloud of steam obscures the surface. Then, a sudden gust of wind lifts the steam and I see dozens of twelve-inch trout sipping insects beneath the surface of the water. Wait.... Bison excrement, bear spray and crystal clear water full of trout? Where am I?!
Currently, I am on vacation in Yellowstone National Park with my family. And the river I am about to fish is the famed Firehole River, one of the most prestigious dry-fly rivers in the world. Complete with underground hot springs and abundant insect hatches, trout grow fast here. But can I catch these wary fish after nearly a year since my last fly-fishing excursion?
Back at the river I slide onto my knees and instantly feel the moisture from the grass seep through my water-resistant pants. Crawling on the ground to hide my body from the fish, I inch my way towards the river bank. I can see the trout swirling, flashing and darting just under the water’s surface. Unhooking my caddis dry fly, I make a sloppy cast towards the head of a slow-moving pool. The fish are not impressed with my presentation and swim away. Frustrated, but not discouraged I move down to another spot.
The Old Faithful geyser.
Here, the water is faster and the trout hopefully less wary. After applying flotant, I cast my fly just beyond the fast moving water. It drifts into the flow and suddenly a large brown trout erupts out of the water in pursuit of the fly. I swing the rod and miss the hookset. Damn….
This scene repeats itself over and over. A perfectly placed cast results in a hit, but no fish. Finally, I find a pool where the water moves fast, but slowly enough where I can easily keep track of my fly. I cast, make a perfect drift and… BAM! The fish is on! It jumps a good foot out of the air, writhing back and forth in fury, to no avail. I bring it to shore, snap a few pictures and release it back into the river.
It is a special moment seeing your catch swim away towards its slot in the river. In Yellowstone, this moment is compounded by the natural beauty that surrounds you. And now, for the first time, I can experience it in isolation. This was the first trip where I was left alone. Not even my parents accompanied me on this fishing journey. So now my fishing experiences include just me, my fly and the fish dancing on the end of my line. And I have rarely been more happy.
I landed around 23 trout in four days but only two were rainbows.
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