Mossy Creek Fly Fishing. I had a chance to spend some time with these guys at The Fly Fishing Show in Somerset, NJ last weekend and enjoyed the stories they shared of fisheries in and around Virginia's Shenandoah Valley.
I worked my way through the trucker-hat-clad crowd milling about the theater lobby, only to arrive at the ticket counter and find that the show was sold out. I've seen good bands that couldn't fill this venue, yet a film tour about fly fishing sells out. Welcome to Bozeman.
I've had similar frustrations on the water around town recently. A Saturday-afternoon hall pass a couple of weeks ago found me driving the length of a local river in search of an unoccupied access point. Every county-bridge crossing had two vehicles flanking it, and on this river, three is a crowd. Eventually I conceded to fishing the backwater of a guy who didn't exactly appear to have the fishery dialed in. I enjoyed showing him what he'd missed, but I would have preferred to have a stretch of water to myself. And worse yet, I've found a guy knee deep in my favorite lunch-break fishing hole more days than not over the past couple of weeks.
I enjoy the positive vibes and fly-fishing culture in Bozeman, but sometimes you can have too much of a good thing. Around here it seems there's always someone a step ahead. Someone a little more hardcore. Someone a little less employed.