Sunday, November 18, 2012

Where The Yellowstone Goes

Earlier this year, I had the fortunate experience of crossing paths with the fabulous Sarah Hall Weeks, producer/editor of Where the Yellowstone Goes. I had watched the trailer on YouTube and as a fly fisher and Montana native, was anxiously looking forward to seeing this film. 

This movie covers every emotion one can have: Its fly fishing, its humor, its life, and it captures the beauty and character of Montana like no other film ever has. (Even sexy fly fishing Brad Pitt didn't do that!) WTYG is thought out, easy to follow, and keeps the audience engaged. You'll want to cuddle with Alby, visit the Cake Ladies, and you will definitely want to visit Montana (maybe even stay!). You'll also see the effects of the Exxon Oil Spill and the efforts to clean up the river and sustain life after. 

Where the Yellowstone Goes made me laugh and cry; I felt a kinship with the people in the film and a longing to get back to my Montana roots. And I was more than ready to sell all my belongings and float the Yellowstone and become a trout bum!

Recently, Sarah and her husband, Hunter Weeks, released Where the Yellowstone Goes on iTunes and its been a huge success. A soundtrack has been released as well, and I might end up wearing out the CD!  It's good....all of it! 

If you haven't seen this film, do yourself a huge favor and watch it!  Sarah and Hunter are also the producers of Ride the Divide.  I don't even own a bicycle, but I to wanted to concur the Continental Divide with pedals and two wheels. 

Check out Where the Yellowstone Goes and then head on over to Rods, Reels & Heels on Facebook for information on how to win a copy of the DVD and CD.

Friday, November 9, 2012

Cold Weather & Big Bows

I was more than comfy cozy, all curled up with my favorite 4-legged buddies, dreaming of unicorns and large pots of gold when I heard the obnoxious beeping of the alarm clock.  I hit snooze once, twice, three times:  It was 4:45am and the weather app on my phone said it was 28 degrees. A four letter word my Mother taught me not to use slipped off my tongue.  I contemplate cancelling. My alarm beeps a fourth time and with an overly dramatic sigh, I climb out of bed.  I scold myself for not setting the coffee pot timer and pray the coffee brews faster today. 

As the coffee percolates, I slowly put on one layer, then a second.  I add a third layer because I know I can get cold in the middle of a heat wave. For good measure, I pack a fourth layer in my pack.  My coffee is ready and I immediately feel like life is being pumped back into me. Thank you Coffee Gods, thank you.

Layered and caffeinated up, I was ready to go fishing!

The closer I got to the river, the more anxious I got. I was fishing with a guy that knew what he was doing; I barely just figured out how to set up a proper nymph rig! The high for the day was expected to be 31 degrees, and I’m known to be a big baby when it comes to the cold. It would be an adventure.

We hoofed it quite a ways down the river and I tried my best to be a tough girl and not complain about the cold.  Rigged up with a San Juan worm and an egg, I was ready to go!  I wanted a fish!  Right now!!!

And fish I got!!!  I started the day out with my first kokanee!  I would have had 3-4 if I could set my hook quicker, or as my friend teased, “stop setting like a girl.” I foul hooked a sucker fish in the belly, and felt terrible because I was so worried I might have hurt him.  Again, my friend kindly pointed out I was being a “weenie”.  It was trout after trout after trout!  Between the two of us, we easily had 20 trout that day.  The biggest (caught by me) was a healthy fat 21inch rainbow hen and the smallest (caught by the ‘pro’) was a 3” brown!  I LOVE the feel of the weight on the line, even if I say “it’s heavy” and giggle like a school girl… nothing beats it!

As I crawled back into my bed that evening, exhausted, haggard, and with smiles for miles; I couldn’t stop looking at my new “fish porn”.  Its funny how I gripe about getting up at 7am to go to work, but I’m anxiously awaiting my next 4:45am ‘fish alarm’. 

That day on the river, I felt as though I was finally getting “it”.  I know I still have plenty of lessons ahead of me and techniques to practice, figure out, and new ones to learn. But that was my day.  It wasn’t even until I got back to the car that I realized I was shivering from the cold and my hands were chapped and frozen! But, at least for one day, it all came together and reminded me, yet again, why I fly fish! 

Tight Lines!