Posted on August 31 2008
August always reminds me of black blizzards of caddis swirling in the Bighorn twilight. Dennis Anderson recently visited Montana’s Bighorn with his sons and experienced the angst of watching some big fish get away because the boys weren’t quite as quick with the net as he might have been. “Sometime tonight, we’ll grill dinner there over charcoal while distant coyotes bay at the moon, and stars sparkle in a black sky that seems to stretch from yesterday to tomorrow, and beyond. For now, this clean, cold river envelopes our boat, as our flies — nymphs — drift near the bottom, carried downstream at the exact speed of the current.” In the Minneapolis – St. Paul Star Tribune.