Yesterday, what started out as quick probe into the back-country on the northern edge of Yellowstone National Park turned into what I would describe as a hellish march to the edges of human physical capability. Okay, so maybe not that bad, but it was tough none the less. With high water plaguing much of the state I figured my best bet for a day off would be cruising down to Big Sky and hunting down some high alpine lakes with my buddy Will. Truth be told, he called an audible in the morning after conferring with a friend of his so instead of a quick walk into one lake, we’d take our chances on one tucked deeper into the canyon. In hindsight, not the best of ideas.

I can’t tell you the exact location of the lake, because we never made it. The road the trail jumps off has seasonal motorized restrictions, meaning no cars past a certain point, before a certain time.  Not like it would have mattered anyway; within the first few bends beyond the gate blocking us we hit the snow line. At first it was just giant, mostly ice balls strewn  about, but the higher we climbed up the switchbacks, the boulders transformed into drifts consuming the entire road. By the time we neared the ridge where we were to turn off, the snow had become a little too much for the both of us. Post-holing for the better part of a half a mile was enough. We retreated down the hill back to our car, passing fresh bear tracks along the way.

Back at the car we reverted back to plan a). Drive into the lake, catch Cutties. Wrong again. The second go round we actually made it to the lake, only to see  that it had turned in the last day or so. Minimal visibility and close to zero room for a back cast made the choice to abandon Lake Lame an easy one. Needless to say, not exactly a productive fishing trip. On the flip side, I’ve had worse days. Looking back now I’m calling the failed outing a success. Time spent exploring new country with a good friend on a shit road, in his car isn’t a bad way to wast an afternoon.

Will and I have had our fair share of misadventures over our relatively short time as fishing partners. Within the last two years alone we’ve dodged Moose in Wildlife Management Areas, thwarted an attempted robbery in Twin Bridges, patched a few flat tires on dirt roads, iced down swollen knees in spring creeks and on one occasion, Will came close to buying the farm in a side channel on Rock Creek. The bottom line is this, at the end of the worst of days, we laugh, imbibe and go to sleep that night no worse for ware. Save the quarter sized blister currently pestering my right heel. Whatever, that too shall pass.

~Cheers, Chewy.