A great start to the day. Broke some clays and got a much needed tune-up from a top-notch instructor just in time for early goose season. Bad news for NEO's waterfowl. To top it off, we were on the water just as the big brown trout were starting their morning routine...
After putting a few butter-bellied beauts in the bag early, fishing slowed. I took a nip from the flask and sat on the bank, watching Don Juan fish an enticing run with my rod (which he'd been carrying for me whilst I toted the lunch cooler) . I contemplated asking for the rod back so I could move upstream, but decided to keep my mouth shut and grabbed his rod from the bank instead. I turned the upstream corner and made a cast, landing the size 6 hopper in some soft water adjacent to a grassy bank. Just as I looked back at John, I heard a toilet bowl flush and instinctively set the hook.
We stuck a few more after that, but it was without a doubt the fish of the day. The Whiskey went down easy that night.
Day three would bring my first foray on The Big Horn and a taste of Montana at its best...
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