On the river, Yellowstone.
The trip was planned months in advance. My friend David (the best angler I know), and I were going to West Yellowstone to chase Browns and Rainbows on the Madison River. We had “the” place to stay, the Campfire Lodge. Great breakfasts, pancakes, and bacon. The fly shop is literally 30 paces from the Madison River.
This was going to be the year - my 3rd attempt to recreate a trip, and an experience David had 10 years before. This time it looked like we had it as the conditions were perfect. That is… until the day before we arrived. The USGS decided to do a debris flush of the river, which releases triple the water from the dam.
These flushes are good for the health of the ecosystem but the trout, as you might guess, are shocked by this sudden change that they have no control over. They go to the bottom, or somewhere out of the higher volume current to wait until the flow stabilizes. This usually takes several days. Days we did not have.
We had a plan “B”, which would have been a very cool plan “A” if you ask me. We decided to fish for three days in Yellowstone National Park. The grandaddy of them all! The trifecta of rivers, the Madison, the Gibbons, and the legendary Firehole River. So cool!
The first day started with boysenberry pancakes, and a short drive into Yellowstone. Yellowstone is breathtaking and inspiring! We arrived, got our gear on, and began the hike to the confluence of these three rivers. There were bison in the area. Beautiful cliffs above the river. Geothermic steam is being released from geysers in the area. It was just wonderful. Spectacular!
The first river to cross was the Madison. We approached the bank. The water was moving fast. It was hard to tell how deep it was because the water was crystal clear. David stepped in. It was deeper than I thought. A little fear crept into my awareness. I have fallen in a river before, just not one moving this fast. I am also a bit older, not as strong as I once was.
With trepidation, I took the first step. OK. Then another. Sure enough, after a couple of steps my foot landed on a slick rock. I went down in the current. My waders began to get water in them. Not good. I felt David’s hand on my shoulder. I reached for him. He was solid. I scrambled to my knees, and then to my feet. I slipped again. He was steady. I managed to get all the way to my feet this time. David helped me cross. What a start for the day! Wet and cold, whew!
We found a spot and began fishing. Now, if the fish would cooperate this would be a win!
They did not. We changed flies, tactics, and locations on the Madison with limited results. “Let’s change to the Firehole?” Davis suggested. Still wet and with some new experience, I was not crossing the river again - unless we decided to change locations. This time I managed to get back across the river without falling and the Firehole River was our next destination.
Once we moved and were set to begin, I noticed a herd of bison milling about. I won’t bother them; they won’t bother me… right?
Fishing was still challenging. David suggested a type of fishing I had never tried before. I was uncomfortable because it would require being positioned in the river. Remember, I am still wet from the crossing of the previous river. This method of fishing requires standing in the current. I am not sure about this.
It might be worth a try. It would require taking the risk of falling again. What happened next was one of those surreal moments that I didn’t see coming. I looked up at the rugged peaks around me that formed one of the calderas in Yellowstone. The aspen and pine trees are a brilliant green. The spring rains have not only raised the water levels of the river, but it has also made all the vegetation vibrant. There are clouds of geothermal steam around us. It is partly cloudy, beautiful blue skies between the puffy clouds. I am standing in the Firehole River, in Yellowstone, fly-fishing. My Nirvana.
The bison don’t look like they want to swim, I will move only if they do.
The beauty of the first National Park. Priceless.
My teaching point here, (you knew it was coming!) life is short. My experience suggests that sometimes do some things you don’t know how it is going to turn out. Try things that are a bit uncomfortable. Take a chance. You might fail once. Maybe twice. You might also have the experience of a lifetime. It might be worth it. It was for me.
It mirrors investing. We don’t know how it is going to turn out. Fact. It might turn out good. The odds feel like they are getting better, despite the fears. The bear is aging. The bison are swimming.
enjoy the day…r2
