By the end of the week I’ll be Montana bound, a bundle of fly rods on the front seat, a duffel of equipment in the truck bed.

Assuming my ancient Toyota econobox pickup survives the 14 hour trip, this coming weekend could find me scoring heavy on big trout with big, big dries (hint: stonefly sized).


The route, as traversed by a 21 year-old Toyota pickup (hopefully).

That’s a reality offering ample opportunity for online reportage, if not outright gloating.

Let’s face it: the word “Montana” stirs the psyche of your average fly fisherman, neurons firing freely in the part of the brain that covets big trout.

Known for its famous rivers – sometimes overrun with out-of-staters like me – Montana’s also home to smaller, less-visited waters, and if you dig a little deeper into the word itself, you’ll find the promise of uncrowded water staring back at you.

I’m leeching off staying with the Underground’s Anonymous Director of Housing For Snarkish Fly Fishing Bloggers, and yes, attempting to file reports along the way.

Naturally, the Frelancer’s Curse has landed hard; the law of nature where booking a vacation means work and new clients pour out of the woodwork.

That means I haven’t been fishing much (nor writing about it when I do). Between work, packing and duct-taping parts back on the truck, there may not be any fishing before the trip.

Not that I’m complaining. There’s a light at the end of this particular tunnel, and it’s cast by the Big Sky sun.

You’ll know what’s happening on slightly after I do, and until then, see you on the road, Tom Chandler.

Technorati Tags: , , , ,

Posted in Road Trip and tagged , , , , .