Mud on the tires

Well, it's springtime in Montana. It has been our family tradition since I was a Boyscout to load up the Wagoneer, Landcruiser, Pathfinder, Suburban or Range Rover and enjoy some early season fishing in "Big sky country"  It seems like it is also family tradition to be stranded on a dirt road a few hundred miles from home and/or up to our collective necks in cold water or mud. This year we kept the tradition alive!! and as well as every other time, it was a Duesey!  My Dad, myself and two brothers were all set for a long sunny day on the Beaverhead. The sky was clear and warm, the jagged mountain peaks were still blanketed with snow, and on opening day the Browns would be biting! You see, I come from a bold family heritage that doesn't follow convention or common sense for that matter, they don't have fishing on the Moon, but we still like to chase the trout where no man has gone before. To get to our favorite spot, requires getting a little mud on the tires!             It's one of those things that in the moment you want to walk all the way back home, but when it's all over and I look back we still had an awesome time enjoying each others company, catching a few big ones, eating an great steak dinner and breathing the clear mountain air. Ryan

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