I figured I had 2 months of self taught fly fishing under my rod, I had caught 3 or 4 wee little trout (mostly by accident) and clearly I was ready for the big leagues.
As far as my fly fishing went when I got there, I probably looked like an idiot. I was painfully shy about my casting and it was impossible to find a nice ‘private location’ to froth water.
I couldn’t cast worth a damn which made the Yellowstone River seem as wide as the ocean with all the fish rising way out of my range. I waded into the Yellowstone River just enough to know I was not up to the challenge without the risk of taking a trip over the Yellowstone Falls down river.
I never caught a fish, not even by accident.
I fell in love while in Yellowstone. Open my chest, drop my heart on it’s banks, fell in love with everything Yellowstone. 15 years later, nothing has changed.
Every time I’ve been back over the years, it’s like coming home. If I wasn’t worried about my arse being chewed off by a Grizzly Bear, I’d probably try to sneak into Yellowstone and become an elusive Mountain Hermit.
Yellowstone is magical. If you’ve been there, you know what I’m writing about…if you haven’t been there, you need to experience it for yourself.
Which is why I hope if you are reading this, you take a minute and check out
The Blogger Tour 2012 Writing Contest.
Write. Win. Go to Yellowstone this Summer.
See you there…