Friday, August 11 – Thursday, August 17
The road to Big Rock Fishing Access Site, off of Old Boulder Road, south of Big Timber, Montana
The crew and I discover that there are five campsites at Big Rock.
One is a long, pull-through (photo below) as you first enter. A path goes from the campsite through the brush to the river.
We continue on the road and it ends in a circle turn-around.
Two sites are along the river. One is presently occupied by a tent and the other (photo below) is a parking space overlooking Boulder Creek.
Ah, let someone who’s here to fish have that one . . . I don’t need the crew jumping out the door into the river.
There are two more sites away from the river, spaced far apart and pleasantly shaded by tall trees. I choose one of them.
At this site we won’t have people with fishing rods walking past our window.
The surfer guy is right!
There’s no camping fee (as I type this August 2017) at Big Rock!
As soon as the Best Little Trailer is situated in the site, I walk the crew. We go up to the first campsite and I take the second photo of this post. By the time we return to camp, Reggie and Roger are feeling the heat.
“You two need a nice, cool drink and then we’re going to sit in the shade.”
Of course, I have to set out the blue mat first, along with the doggie beds and other stuff.
Reggie is a happy camper.
Roger is a happy camper.
And I’m a happy camper, too, because we can take it easy in this free camp for up to seven days.
Supplies are only 3.5 miles away in Big Timber.
Neighboring campers come and go on the weekend. During the week, the only people who come here are those who want to fly-fish and they’re a quiet lot.
One day while the crew and I are out walking, we come upon a man carrying — what else — a fly rod. Roger has a barking fit per usual and the man kindly gives him attention. Reggie gets his share, too.
As we’re chatting, grasshoppers jump in the dry grass nearby. Recently I saw a man and his daughter catching grasshoppers and I remember the guy at Clark Canyon Reservoir telling me he’s had great luck fishing with grasshoppers.
I blurt out, “Do you ever use grasshoppers for bait?” and immediately realize what a monumentally stupid question for me to pose to A Guy Holding A Fly-Rod.
“Blasphemy! Oh, no, I’ve committed blasphemy!”
The man chuckles at my dramatics.
He proceeds to explain how one makes “flies” to match the insects that the fish are biting. I know this already but I let him explain anyway. He enjoys sharing the information and I appreciate moving away from my grasshopper gaffe.
I ask him a few questions and learn that peak fishing is in August and September.
“It depends on the river,” he qualifies.
Of course, I have to ask him how he’s doing.
“I only caught little ones here, three of ’em, about six inches. I was fishing down at the bridge and caught a 17-inch brown. I was casting underneath the bridge.”
If I may digress a moment . . .
Maybe you can help me understand this mystery. Why is it that fly fishermen always look so dang neat and tidy?
Typically you see a fly fisherman and he’s wearing a button-down shirt WITH A COLLAR. The shirt is in a tastefully subdued, neutral shade of tan or green. Immaculate.
Over that spiffy shirt he sports a tan, drab green, or gray vest. You know, the kind with the little pockets all over. Pockets with nifty flaps.
For pants, something in neutral also. Never jeans. And always CLEAN.
Okay, that’s the fly-fisherman. He’s nothing if not well-laundered.
Now here comes the bait fisherman.
Picture him in your mind . . . . See what I mean?
Turkeys! Turkeys! Turkeys!
(Don’t the crew look cute as the dickens in that photo? I had to stick it in this post somewhere.)
Okay, I’m talking turkeys here.
Every dawn and every dusk the turkeys are a-gobbling in the copse of white birch behind our campsite (the trees in the background of fourth photo).
Every dawn and every dusk I look for them but they’re hidden in the tall grass.
One early morning the turkeys sound very close to our back window.
Today is The Day. Today I will get a photo of the turkeys . . .
Careful not to disturb the crew, I sling the camera strap over my head and open the door as quietly as possible. I step outside ready to shoot . . .
Now where are they? Where did they go?
Oh. . . . Hi, there. Good morning, friend.
More about Big Rock in the next post!
rvsue
NOTE: Last call for buying your Senior Discount Pass (for those 62 years or older) at a bargain price. The price goes up from $10 to $80 on Monday, August 28th. Forest Services offices are running out of the passes and are probably closed for the weekend. At this point, order online ($10 processing fee) at this website.
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