Dog Days are almost over. All of us river hounds have been praying for just a teeny tiny break after a hottest summer we can remember. The sweltering heat of summer is drawing to a close as morning temperatures hint autumn is looming ever closer on the horizon. Hunting season. Steelhead season. Travel to tropical climates. Winter time and ski season are nearer than we would care to believe despite the smoke of forest fires hazing up the Bitterroot skyline. A little snowfall is still a fond dream and can't get here fast enough to put out blazing mountains out once and for all.
Anyhow. This summer of 2017 has been one for the record books with too many back-to-back days rowing around looking for trout to count. Our water has held out and stayed cold keeping the trout happy and hatches ticking. June and July always seems to pass in a blur but this summer even more so. Its a long road to a hundred days and there isn't much time or space for other things while the grind is going on. This blog has fallen far far down the priority list somewhere below splitting a winters worth of firewood and above burning irrigations ditches. Everything in its own good time I suppose. The changing chores and prioritization of projects are the simple pivots of seasonal living in Montana, their cycle changing little from year to year.
Seeing the Brothers Scott is one of those seasonal pivots for me. Like the different seasons separated by Western Tanagers and Cedar Waxwings their arrival signals the madness and heat of July is almost spent, heading now somewhere between mid-summer madness and the slow afterburn of autumn. And it also means some gangbusters fishing is about to be had as well. Shooters in the boat usually means quality fishing. Yesssss.
They have been coming to Montana longer than I have been a fishing guide but not by much. The two things are becoming synonymous in my memory. Their annual trip fishing with me has had many chapters by now, with plenty of adventures, hangovers, characters, campfire stories and big fish populating them. We kept the travel to a minimum this year and soaked up all the Bitterroot has to offer. Both the low river and the Fork' produced quality fishing for us. We have no favorites, just take me to where the fish are biting. We also soaked up the biggest party in Hamilton with the Bitterroot Brewfest closing out the trip. I feel the legend finds a way and keeps growing every year.
Until next summer finds us sitting on the ledge between the last lazy vacations days of summer and predictable schedule of autumn I will look forward to fishing these boys again.
Thank you Gents
AT
