It Doesn’t Get Any Better

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One of the greatest joys a father can have is seeing a son grow up to share some of his passions. In my case, both my sons share my love of fishing — coastal fishing for specks, reds and flounder in Louisiana and fly-fishing for mountain trout in Montana.

 

My older son Brandin made a trip to Red Lodge with me two years ago but couldn’t make it back last year or this year. His younger brother Will joined me yesterday (Saturday, Aug. 2), and today I took him on his first-ever fly-fishing trip in the mountains. He took some casting lessons from Capt. Rich Whitner back in New Orleans, so he approached West Rosebud Lake in the Custer National Forest with equal measures of confidence and caution. Any apprehension he might have had evaporated quickly as he started casting his line like a pro.

 

Less than 15 minutes later, he landed his first-ever mountain trout — a nearly 16-inch rainbow. And he caught it on a fly rod and reel that Margo and I gave him for his 15th birthday about six weeks ago.

 

It just doesn’t get any better.

 

 

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