Trip Report: Piney Creek

Prelude

Saturday, September 19.  This was a challenging day of fishing.  Since I’ve already pontificated extensively on how Parkinson’s Disease, inflicted insight, and a little humility shaped this day of fishing, those aspects will be omitted.  This one’s about the fishing.  Also, this was Day 2 of the trip.  I've written elsewhere about Day 1.

Hay meadow adjacent to Piney Creek

But First, A Little Philosophy…

If you don’t care to read about or ponder the moral or ethical aspects of stream access, feel free to skip ahead to the next section.  Where I grew up in Wyoming, land ownership and access are sacred to most (except for oil, gas, and minerals companies.)  You just don’t walk onto someone else’s land, period.   There is no stream or river access without landowner permission.  If a waterway is big enough to float, the spirit of the law goes something like this:  The State owns the water, but the land on both sides and under the waterway are private property.  Ergo: you can float on the water because it is public property, but you cannot anchor, and you cannot wade without permission, perhaps unless your name is Thomas or Jesus.  Sorry, John, you may be the favorite among the “fishers of men,” but you’ll have to stay in the boat unless you want a citation from the Sheriff.  So I grew up fishing public waters.

When I moved to Montana in 1998, I discovered something both wonderful and disturbing:  Montana’s Stream Access Law.  From the Montana Fish, Wildlife & Parks website:

“Under the Montana Stream Access Law, the public may use rivers and streams for recreational purposes up to the ordinary high-water mark.”

So, in spirit, if you can legally access part of a waterway, you can wade it, float it, and anchor in it for its entire length.  Very cool for anglers.  Not so cool for folks whose private property is now not-so-private.  While living in Montana, I enjoyed the former and pretty much ignored the latter.  But let it be said that I believe those who fail to treat other people’s land with the utmost respect, even though they have legal access rights, should face painful consequences.  “May he catch three doses of clap.”  They ruin it for the rest of us.

Opportunity Knocks Twice, Part III-and-a-Half: Pride and Parkinson's

I’ve never been proud of my fly angling skills.  In fact, I’ve always been rather embarrassed when someone who knows how to work a fly rod is forced to endure the unholy sight of my efforts to cast a flyline.  I dread having an expert see me laughingly “cast” a fly rod.  In a quantum nightmare, The Little Voices in my head start shouting all of the possible criticisms that might be going through said expert’s mind:  “This guy’s hopeless.”  “He’s actually caught fish?”  “That’s the worst use I’ve ever seen for a fly rod.”  “Reverend Maclean is rolling in his grave.”  “He’d be better off taking up knitting.”  And while I profess not to be “proud,” it’s pure pride that makes me want to hide my deficiencies.

So, let’s do a little non-mathematical calculating:

1. Parkinson’s Disease: progressive, degenerative neurological condition that (among MANY other things) affects muscular control.  This is making me stiff & shaky, affecting my balance, and making it increasingly difficult to cast a flyline with my right hand
2. I refuse to give up fly angling yet.  It’s part of my identity and good for me in many ways
3. I’m embarrassed to have other people watch me cast a fly rod
4. If my skills don’t improve at least as fast as my ability decays, I might not be fishing much longer.

Solution: Pride must be abandoned.  And not just for fishing.

I took a quick trip last weekend to the border regions of Montana and Wyoming near Sheridan, WY and Fort Smith, MT.  I had a singleminded goal for the trip:  improve my fly angling skills.  My highest priority was to improve my lefthanded casting abilities.  Next was paying attention to the details of two waters I’d never fished before:  the Big Horn River north of Fort Smith, and Piney Creek south of Sheridan.  I got connected with Clark Smyth of Rock Creek Anglers to float a few miles of the Big Horn River in his Adipose drift boat (technically, a skiff…)  When I first talked to Clark, I let him know that I have PD and that I’ve just switched over to casting with my left arm.  I described my “abilities” and told him my goal for the trip.  “I’m here to help,” is what he said, and he repeated it several times during the trip.