Back from the Bighorns. Not the best time I've ever had on the mountain, but that was as much on me as anything. Just couldn't settle in. Overcast a good portion of the time, rainy, poor air quality owing to the big fires in California. Still, managed to get some good work in until the gas for the generator ran out.
Saw some pretty night skies and enjoyed the quiet. Nothing like it anywhere else I've ever been. Heard one plane the whole time. Otherwise nothing but squirrels and birds and the occasional deer. Saw a lot of pronghorn while I was up there. Spotted a handful of rock chucks, too, one of which raced me on the road to the middle fork. Came on four game hens as I was leaving.
Hoped maybe my dad would pay me a visit, but there didn't seem to be any spirits up there this summer. At least none interested in talking to me.
Spent an hour and a half driving cow trails to fish the Powder on Wednesday, and was got up in my vest and waders before I realized I'd left my rod at the cabin. Wasn't about to turn around, so I cut a willow switch with my hatchet, dressed it out with a flyline and leader and spent the afternoon roughing it. Caught a small rainbow from a dead drift, so the day wasn't completely lost. Still, a willow switch isn't a flyrod. Was reminded of that early and often.