I'll fish there until I can't

Anticipation nearly crippled me.

A week before my annual trek into the Yellowstone River canyon my knees began to ache. I hadn’t been running or biking or engaging in any unusual physical activity so I figured it was all in my head. Probably it was because I knew what was ahead.

I first fished the canyon in 1971 when I was working for an outfitter in Cooke City. An elderly couple from Ohio had rented saddle horses for the trip and I accompanied them as the wrangler. I don’t remember much about the ride in and out of the canyon. The fishing, however, was phenomenal.

Technique, proper presentation, and the right fly made little difference in the canyon. The abundant cutthroat trout gobbled everything. The most difficult thing about fishing there was simply getting there, or more accurately — getting out.

It’s less than two miles from the trailhead to the top of the canyon. There used to be a decent trail dropping down to the river, but it’s hard to find now, erosion and lack of use having taken a toll over the years.

Getting down, though, is easy. And once on the river, travel upstream isn’t difficult because there’s trout to be caught and promising water around every bend.

I usually fish upstream for a couple of miles and then walk out of the canyon on an old poachers trail. It’s the walk out that thins the crowd. The trail is on the south-facing side of the canyon, which bakes in the afternoon sun. The closer the trail gets to the top the steeper it gets, and the final stretch is through loose sand.

Lots of people fish the canyon once.

I took my father there when he was 63. He made it in and out, but back at the trailhead vowed never to return.

I fish it now once a year with a select group of friends.

Unfortunately, it’s not the fishery it used to be.

The trek was always worth it because the canyon was a 40-fish-a-day honey hole. Ten years ago when I was 55, I caught my age there in trout. Last weekend I caught two fish. One, disturbingly, was a rainbow.

I may not be the fisherman I used to be, but even the more talented anglers accompanying me had difficulty catching fish.

Not that I’m going to quit the canyon. I’ll fish there until I can’t, and at the moment I still can. I’m already aching in anticipation.

Parker Heinlein is at [email protected]