Along the Interstate
Every spring, we try to take some time to fish in our old home of Western Montana. Despite runoff, there’s usually a place that still has green water. This part of the state is where Casey, a 21-year-old firefighter tired of the bunkhouse, found fly fishing. It’s where three years later he introduced it to me. And it’s always a special few days for us to spend together. This year, we even floated the wooden boat Casey has been restoring. One almost-portage and a lot of cutthroat trout later, we were glad we made the effort.