“One of them is going to swoop down and pick up a fish to show us how it’s done.” Terry said, casting his hopper.
“You are still fishing with the hopper huh?” I asked, noticing he wasn’t getting any looks on it for a few hours now.
“I’m going to force feed them this thing until one eats it!” He said, making another cast. Sadly, no fish were interested in his hopper, and we had reached a slower flowing portion of the river that forced me to row downstream.
“Ga, how bad does fishing have to be for us to want to row faster down the river?” Terry asked.
“OH!” Terry yelled, cutting through the sound of the flowing river.
“Did you have one on?” I asked, not seeing him fighting a fish.
“I just had a refusal!” He said happily, and after realizing how excited he got over a refusal, he laughed and said, “Fishing sucks today”.
I looked downstream and saw a fish rise about twenty feet off the bank.
“Did you see that rise?” I asked, and Terry did. He casted his fly directly in front of the boat, and watched as the fly drifted towards the small ring that was created by a fish.
“Got em’!” Terry yelled, “And it’s a rainbow!”
Terry’s fish jumped clean out of the water and landed with a splash. His fish started running upstream, and after handing Terry the net, I kicked the boat around for him to be facing the fish, which also meant I had my back facing downstream. I twisted around to keep an eye on what we were floating into, and missed his fish bolting back downstream and under the boat.
“Ahhhh!” Terry grunted, as his rod doubled over with the tip getting dangerously close to the rocky river bed. I quickly dipped the oars into the water and kicked the boat 180 degrees so that we were back to facing the correct way. Terry reached down to the fish, and almost had it.
“Row forward!” He yelled, and I didn’t hesitate. The extra boost towards the fish was enough for Terry to scoop up his first trout of the day.
A ten mile stretch of river can take all day to float down, and with the kind of catching we were experiencing today it felt like ten miles. The few trout we had caught were few and far between, and we were looking forward to the end of this float. On top of the slow day of fishing, the heat was draining us.
The day ended shortly after the brown trout, and after a really quick decision not to stay another night, we headed back to Lois’s cabin in West Yellowstone. We arrived late in the afternoon, and at first sight there was a relieving feeling like we were home.
A good night's rest would definitely helped us recuperate from the long float. Our hight expectations for this trip had beat us down hard, but we still had hopes for the next day.
“We will have a good day tomorrow.” Terry said, as we pulled up to the cabin.
“Oh yeah?” I asked.
“Yep! Because we have zero expectations for tomorrow.” Terry said with a chuckle.
“Here’s to zero expectations!” I said, and Terry and I did a quick fist bump to end the day.