One can’t come to Yellowstone National Park and not go fly fishing. One can go fly fishing and not catch anything, but that’s another thing entirely. Not that I would know, personally.
On Thursday of this week I hiked in to Cache Creek and practiced my never-acquired long-forgotten skills, and, to my surprise, I actually caught a few. I felt accomplished. The day was beautiful, the company was wonderful, and the fish were biting; what more can a girl ask for?
Speaking of company, here’s one of my teachers and guides. He sure looks the part!
It was about a 2.5 mile hike in, which took a bit longer than usual as there was a bison traffic jam on the trail. They made zero indication of having a lunch date to get to, so we lost a good twenty minutes of fishing time. Such is life in YNP.
This Montana-Wyoming adventure continued on Friday when I joined the SCAT ladies (my former knitting club) of Crandall and Sunlight Basin on a drive/hike to Bald Ridge, which overlooks the entire canyon. What a spectacular view it was!
Uta, a wee German wanderer.
Here’s myself and Bertie, one of my dearest friends out here. The wind was blowing!
On Saturday I relaxed, or at least stayed in one place much of the day. In fact, I spent the day writing my sermon I preached this morning at my former Chapel. It was great to be back behind the pulpit at MRCP. Thanks everyone for allowing me back!
And now I sit here waiting for a friend, Kim, to arrive from Washington. She’ll be here for the next 2-3 days and I can’t even imagine what kind of crazy adventures she’ll drag me on during those days. Hopefully I survive to post pictures!
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