Doing the right thing

So, what would you do? About 10 years ago, I was bushwhacking through some tall grass on the way to one of my favorite fishing spots on the Missouri River, near Craig.

I'd walked over a half mile from the truck, following a game trail to a side channel of the main river.

When I was about 30 yards from the water, I looked down and found a plastic fly box.

The box had obviously lain there for several days as it was splashed with mud and partially covered with grass, but the contents were dry.

The box held over 300 of the types of flies most commonly used on the Mo.

There was no writing on the box. No brand decal.  No name. No address. 

It was my last late afternoon on the river.  Plan was to fish until nearly dark, then drive back to Columbia Falls, arriving long after midnight.

Initial thought was that it belonged to a fishing guide, but then guides are generally smart enough to put their names on their stuff.

I debated driving back to Craig, inquiring at fly shops if anyone had reported losing a fly box, but I'd lose several precious hours of fishing.

I didn't want to deal with a clerk who suggested I leave the box with him.  Plus, there are several fly shops in the area.

 And I didn't want to leave it there because any serious angler dearly missing 300 flies would have re-traced his steps by now.

There was a good chance the guy was already back in Pennsylvania by the time I found the flies.

So I put the fly box in my vest and went fishing.

What would you do?

Last summer, in a totally un-related situation, a friend and I were floating the Flathead River when he found a submerged fly box containing flies.

A phone number was barely visible on the box. 

When he asked what I would do, I told him it was a no-brainer. 

Make the call.  Return the flies.

Happy thanksgiving!