Reservation Blues
Leaving sunny skies and 70-degree temperatures in Ennis, the author encounters a blizzard near Browning.
In the spring, giant rainbows cruise the shores
of Duck Lake and other Blackfeet Reservation
fisheries. Those who don’t mind casting in the
wind, the rain and the snow usually encounter
some monsters.
From the refuge of his truck, the author snaps a
self-portrait after a two-hour stint in the wind
on Duck Lake.
| RATE THIS ARTICLE: | | (RANK: 0) |
| |
Nights came early on the res. It was too damn miserable to cook on the tailgate. Instead, I crawled into my sleeping bag just before dark and ate powdered donuts, beef jerky and chips and washed it all down with what remained of my Corona stash. I
cursed my fair-weather friends and read the New York Times Sunday edition until the eyelids grew weak.
Three days of iced-in hell and I was off to the races. On my way home I stopped at Hope Lake, but the wind was blowing 65 and there was no way to reach Hope’s big rainbows from shore. Launching my new Kodiak raft would have been a death sentence. I read the description of drowning in the Perfect Storm. Not for me I concluded.
That evening I was back in Ennis, enjoying the company of my wife and daughter while eating sushi at a friend’s house. The peaks of Glacier were awesome, the storm had been an event, driving was a life-threatening account, fishing had been marginal
at best. But, even a few fish on the reservation is better than 30 almost anywhere else. I chalked my experience up to a disregard for the weather and the temperamental nature of the Blackfeet Reservation fisheries. And where will I be this year as the ice
comes off those lakes and the weather in Ennis is grand — probably back on the Res, casting into the wind, hopefully with a coupled converted deadbeats in tow.
  
| |
| | RATE THIS ARTICLE: | | (RANK: 0) |
|
