Another week has flown by here on the Missouri. Despite a snowy early week ahead, spring fever has officially hit, it seems, and the shop is just getting busier and busier.
I was able to take my first Missouri float on Thursday with shop manager Sara and her guide boyfriend Kurt. It was a glorious day on the ‘Mo, and Sara and Kurt both were extremely patient as I learned the ways of the Missouri.
It’s a far cry from the Gallatin, I can say that much. (In a completely good way.)
During the ten-hour float, we all brought fish to the boat on nymphs, streamers, and – the best part of the day – Skwala. It’s been a long winter since any of us really tossed a dry, and there was much rejoicing when the first Skwala take occurred.
Fingers crossed, the first blue wings are not too far behind.
I keep having people come into the shop and say “you’re that Fire Girl and / or Chi Wulff chick, aren’t you?” I get a kick out of it. If you’re around, introduce yourself! The whole shop crew is ready to roll for the season and eager to help you pick out the best flies and share the latest river news.
An increasingly large portion of my days has been taken up by shuttling, something I don’t mind in the least as it allows me a chance to watch the river and learn as I go. It’s always an adventure climbing into various rigs and not knowing what will be waiting. Yesterday I drove everything from an ’80s Dodge diesel to a ’13 Lincoln to a Subaru.
Bonus points if the rig owner leaves some good music on.
The highlight of this week was a little one, but it’s stuck with me. Wednesday we had several late shuttles call in, one of which was a very nice man who said he was floating with his two young daughters. That alone made me smile, and brought back lots of memories.
We got to the ramp, only to find the dad and his girls just pushing off in the boat. Both girls were grinning and clearly eager for the trip, and the dad looked relaxed and ready to enjoy the evening with his girls. The rig, somehow fittingly, was an immaculately maintained old-style F-350 diesel, very similar to one we had as a kid. Jake and I named it “Moby” after Moby Dick (it was white and we read voraciously as kids, what can I say.)
That little shuttle – Craig to Stickney – made my day, and I very nearly left the guy a note in his Ford telling him he was awesome for getting his girls out on the water. I know those were the trips I anticipated for months at that age.
As with anything, it’s the little things that make days on the Missouri interesting. Waving to a guide I know as we shuttle rigs. A song I like coming up on someone’s CD. A friendly face coming into the shop. The massive bacon-coated donuts that materialized in the shop yesterday morning. (These things were massive and covered in hunks of bacon.)
I’m looking forward to seeing what the coming weeks bring…
