The Legend

The shadows of the Bridger Mountains start to emerge as I speed past the main street exit. A few minutes later and into the canyon I go. Rock spires shoot out of the mountain side and the dawn patrol crowd marches toward the base in headlamps. I get passed by 3 Tacoma's hauling R/O boats through the S-Curves...everyone racing to get that first light streamer bite. This is a typical morning in Montana during the summer months. The same scene will play out every morning till September hits.

I let the guides race past me, take a sip of mediocre coffee and as usual my old man's face pops into my head. The smell of coffee takes me down memory lane daily, especially in a truck in route to fish.

The sun now sheds light on the Absaroka Mountains, maybe the most rugged in all of Montana. Livingston Peak comes into view as I descend down toward Livingston and for a second I think of how brutal that summit climb is. An antelope busts across the road and quickly forces me to focus. I hang right off I-90 toward Yellowstone National Park and start getting excited about the day's adventure.

The drive-thru coffee shack is 7 trucks deep and the guides are starting to file in at Albertsons parking lot. Yes....typical summer day in Montana indeed.

I roll into Sweet Water and can see the rush behind the shop. Guides are hooking up the boats and setting expectations with their clients. I hear one tourist say "So how many 20 inchers are we gonna get today?" I gaze over and see the guides face turn from excited to annoyed quickly. After 10 minutes the crowd disappears and one boat is left in the parking lot. THE LEGEND. He looks all lonely and neglected as I approach him. This ole boat has scene plenty of days on all types of water, his battle scars telling stories of boulder hits, poor rowers and wild fish. I back up and attach it, then realize the back taillight is out. Cops are scarce around these parts so I ignore the malfunction and bolt down 89 towards Paradise.

The boys are waiting at Mallard's. Some Quick BS about the weather and how bad the fishing will be quickly turns into the first beer sip of the day. Andy's hungover and the only remedy is a Moose Drool to start erasing last nights mishaps.

We opt for the Bird Float, mostly because the dry fly bite has been rumored to be good. I'm hesitant to believe the action is as good as they say but rig up a Purple Chubby at the end of my rig anyway. I dunk the boat in the water, park the truck and off we go. Snowpack has created an epic flow this year. Strainers and whirlpools are frequent hazards that have eaten a few boats already. I got a few rookies in the boat and wonder how they will fare handling The Legend. The Legend has a specific oar stroke that will make him perform, but it's not easily found. It took me 10 trips down the river to dial him in, now I feel like we speak to each other, respect each other and keep each other out of trouble. How he reacts to different folks behind the drivers seat is yet to be scene.

I sit middle and head straight to the far bank. Some rip rap provides good structure for browns and I like how the current flows off the rocks. Steve chucks a cast right next to the rip rap and gets the first 16 inch brown of the day. The kiss of death has just occurred.....a trout in the first 5 minutes on the Yellowstone....this is going to be a long day. I bounce from river right to river left putting them into the best positions.....and the Legend looks like Barry Sanders juking and jiving fluidly.

No action occurs in the next 20 minutes and Steve wants to row. "Quick fast strokes Steve....it's the key to handling the Legend." He nods his head and starts down the river. We hit a braided section and opt left, this time of year you can pretty much go anywhere you want because of the flows. I focus hard on the willow bank, striving to get my chubby under the overhangs. I miss a few small cutthroats and think about going smaller on my dry fly. I look up to see a strainer approaching quickly and Steve is headed right for it. "Tilt the boat and stroke quick brother!" I catch Steve's attention, he was preoccupied keeping us close to the bank. I look down and see him struggling to move it. The Legend doesn't like his touch...he isn't reacting the way he should. At that moment I switch seats with Steve in a frantic manner. We're 10 feet from the strainer.....10 feet from saying good-bye to The Legend. I cock him hard and start hammering on the oars....and just like a sports car he turns on a dime and we elude a disaster. He just needed that right touch to get moving and luckily I had it. Maybe he was trying to send a message to the rower, maybe he was sending a message to me. Either way we continued down Paradise Valley in the shadow of the Absarokas. We were accompanied by Bald Eagles, Caddis Flies and Moose. Eventually we were greeted with some rainbows and cutthroats.

As we rounded the last bend a whirlpool came out of nowhere and we were headed right for it. This time I was behind the oars and The Legend knew. A quick turn of the bow and 6 hard strokes and we were back in the safe current. I floated by the whirlpool and patted the Legend on the back, he performed well today.

We loaded up the boat and headed back to Sweet Water to drop the Legend off at his resting spot. All the other boats were already parked, and they looked shiny and new. I detached the hitch and dropped the trailer. As I pulled away I looked in the rear view mirror and the Legend was staring back at me, looking out of place in that line of boats.

I pulled out on 89 North heading back toward Bozeman and caught one last glimpse of him....I bet he was wondering when I'd be back to get him for the next adventure. Little did he know I was going to give him a new home for good, and the Legend and I will be inseparable once summer sets in again.

*My good friend Matt left for Vermont this summer for a few months and gave up his boat for me to use. I spent the better part of July blazing down some of the most famous waters in Montana in that thing. I had numerous people in and out of that boat, and we had a few adventures that will last a lifetime. Matt got a new hyde and was going to dump The Legend....I couldn't let him do that and offered him a new home. I hope The Legend and I have some more memorable Adventures this upcoming summer.