Belly Up: When things go south in a beautiful place, you just roll with it
It’s amazing how things can go south in a hurry. (By the way, why do things ‘Go south?” couldn’t they just as easily go north or west or east? I suppose going south has a ring to it, though I have traveled through Alabama on the back roads and I must admit, it’s a very nice state, at least to look at. Not sure about living in it. I mean, who can stand Nick Saban. I can’t, retired or not. But whoa, what a digression, huh?)
At any rate we were trying to do some fishing in the Belly River country of Glacier National Park and the wind was howling and it was cold — in the 40s cold —and it was all I could do to tie the knots standing up to my shins in water that was even colder.
I had it all set and the wind snarled the line into a big old mess. (Note to self, never buy the braided Tenkara line ever again.)
We walked back to camp where the wind wasn’t nearly as severe and cut out the snarl, salvaged what was left of the line and leader, tied on a fly and headed back to the water.
The first fish broke the line and that was the end of the fishing. I knew the leader was beyond repair at that point and I didn’t have another one.
Such is life.
Other than that it was a overnight trip of about 22 miles. We saw nothing bigger than a sandhill crane. The little things enamored us, particularly the hummingbird moths in the dandelions. Many people consider dandelions weeds, but I also can’t think of an animal that won’t eat them.
I do know this: They’re not going anywhere and they sure can pretty up a picture.
Have a good week.
— Chris Peterson