A Committing Move

The past few weeks have had me a bit out of sorts. It started with a great visit from my family in AZ, followed by the death of my 8 year old desktop pc (I just got my new computer up and running yesterday) and a big, committing move.

Regarding the latter, I've recently decided to take the next step in my relationship with the Gallatin River; we've moved in together. I've moved into a little (very little) riverside villa in the valley, just outside of town. Friends are questioning my decision and assuming that our free wheeling days of fishing and debauchery together are over. They think that she'll demand all of my time and they warn that I'll grow bored of being with the same river, day after day.

I've done some second guessing, to be sure, but I'm happy with my decision. I'm excited about spending more time with her and about waking up next to her every morning. I've assured the naysayers that nothing has changed in regard to the arrangement of the relationship that she and I keep. She still sees others, a fact that I struggle with from time to time, and of course I'm free to stray when the urge strikes.

So my friends, those forays to the Boulder, Madison and Missouri are still on, as is fly tying night. And of course, mi casa es su casa, come visit...and bring a rod.

Roll your eyes if you want, after all, it's just the Gallatin. What's the big deal, right? Well, as I've already found out, she's got a few surprises up her sleeve. About two weeks ago I spent my first night in my new home, upon waking the next morning I grabbed my rod and sauntered down the path to the river. On what was literally my first cast, I hooked into the biggest fish I've ever caught on the Gallatin. The fish went airborne immediately upon being hooked, letting me know just how big it was (I'm conservatively saying 20"). I somehow managed to maintain the connection with the big brown over the course of two more leaps and a few hard nosed runs. Of course I hadn't brought a net with me, since I assumed I'd be catching standard Gallatin sized trout (12- to 16-inches). Thankfully I did have my camera with me to document the catch. I hate putting a fish on the rocks to take a photo like this, but with no net I had little choice. After a quick photo the brute swam off strong, I have no doubt it is still finning the river near my home.

You've got to hand it to the Gallatin, she sure knows how to reassure a guy that he made the right decision!

P.S.
Thanks again Josh!