The tradition continues at Sweetgrass Rods;
crafting fine bamboo fly fishing rods

   
Thanks for the wonderful craftsmanship. You guys are amazing.
Frank D.


No place like home

The gloomy, Eeyore weather has turned most our water to muck. The lakes are either frozen or still a little hung-over from Winter's frost. Seeking solace, I managed to get away for a couple days and see my hometown, which literally has a creek running through it. This stream is the source of most my childhood adventures, and continues to influence my life deeply. It has been a couple years since I last fished it. I had to get back.

Sarah was able to get the same days off work and we headed to my home mountain range so's I could show her around a bit. I was a little excited, as was she -- even though the rain poured.

The Eeyore weather followed Sarah and I as we drove south and east through the plains bordering several mountain ranges. It was kinda purdy, though. I was worried my stream would be blown out, but determined to fish it anyway. My mom just happened to be heading north, with my younger brother, Robert who was recovering from knee surgery (again). I had about fifteen minutes from the time I got to town, until Sarah and I were to meet my mom and brother. This was to be the first time anyone from my family got to meet Sarah, but that's an entirely different, story....

So, I gave Sarah the quick drive down Main St. pointing out the haunted motel, the creek, the rebuilt (but not the same old) greasy spoon cafe on the crick. Pointed out the crick again. And the crick again. Then we headed to the crick because I could not stay off it. It was high, but just rusty-colored. So much time had wisped by since I had fished this stream at high water that I forgot it doesn't get muddy. It gets rusty from the tannins it juices from the pine tree needles along its banks. Very cool and fishable. It's a bit like fishing in ice cold sun tea, sans lemon. And sugar.
 
I quickly pulled Glenn's prototype 6 wt. dry fly rod that Thomas made for him before leaving. It really is a quick and sweet dry fly rod. That's why I had two heavy nymphs and tungsten putty on it. To get down deep! I didn't take time to put waders on, and stood ankle deep in the creek in hiking boots, casting upstream to the head of a hole I had never caught a fish in. That's right, a place I couldn't catch fish -- weird, I know. It is right off the old highway, and an obvious big hole. It gets fished a lot, and with no catch and release regulations, I think the fish that find the hole home, soon get pulled to a dinner plate. I bet they're tasty...

I cast a few times along the current edges, and soon hooked solidly to a frantic trout! I giggled and laughed and yelled for Sarah to get the camera. I couldn't believe I caught a fish in so little time in a hole that's not usually productive. But I did. Good ol' Sweetgrass Mojo!

Ten minutes and I found a beautiful, healthy, wild Brown trout with a 6 weight prototype Sweetgrass rod!


After driving hours along muddy rivers, I find magic in Sweetgrass, Brown trout and my little hometown crick.


See ya bud. Try to stay away from dinner plates again this Summer!

The trip was a brief but perfect homecoming. I didn't want to leave, but the next day Sarah and I had to drive back 6 hours to earn some money so we can take off on another stream-lined adventure.

In Wild Waters,

Zac Sexton

the Meandering Boo Boy
Where to fish, where to fish? There is a place....
Back in Montana
 

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Sweetgrass Rods ~~ P.O. Box 486 ~~ 121 West Galena ~~ Butte, Montana 59703
406.782.5552 ~~ sweetgrassrods@gmail.com
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