A Gift of a Rainbow

 The Gift of a Rainbow

Norman Maclean ended his beautiful novella with these words "The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of those rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.
I am haunted by waters.”

As I spent my second week in Montana this summer, something in me continued to hear the mysterious words "haunted by water".

So it was in August of 2015, I took my son to the great waters of the Missouri and the bending rocky and conifer laden banks of the Blackfoot River where Maclean experienced a youth that inspired him to write "A River Runs Through It".  Being August, we knew that the days would heat up so we rose early to get on the river as the fish were longing for their rising tricos (a common name given to Tricorythodes mayflies, which hatch most abundantly in August on trout rivers) and other winged dry flies. We met up with our guide, Taylor Todd with Cross Currents Fly Shop in the sleepy town of Ovando, Montana. With its perfect scenic blend of old and new, we rested our vehicle in this town of approximately 50 people. Lying in the Blackfoot Valley, Ovando sits just off of Montana Hwy 200 between Helena and Missoula.

Our Guide, Taylor Todd and Lewis and his first Rainbow

When Todd picked us up, I could see the anticipation in the eyes of Lewis, my son.  While he is an experienced outdoors man, he had never felt the excitement of a rainbow trout tugging on his line. I knew we were in for an experience.

The day yielded a modest catch. Although modest, each of the fish were beautiful. One of the things that cause fly fisherman to be so avid about the sport is the powerful fight that these amazing aquatic creatures exhibit, but its also the rainbow of colors that warm water fish just can't compare to. We spent 6 hours on the river and enjoyed the beauty that we knew was divinely created.  I knew however, that modest as our catch was, we were on our way to the Mighty Mo (Missouri) the next day! I was confident we were just mending our line on this day for what would be a great catch coming up.

A luminous smile

On our second day of fishing, we positioned ourselves in the boat, Lewis in front, and me in the rear. It was no time and I heard Lewis' drag on his reel screaming. His rod was bend over like an upside down crescent moon. I was so excited that I reeled my line in to just watch; and it was beautiful to watch. As Lewis began to fight the fish, he gathered enough time to look back at me desiring approval for his technique. Taylor had already shown Lewis how to bring in the big ones. Catching a trout is a fine line between hogging
the fish and giving too much slack. Dancing on the water, the fish was doing everything it could to get off. But Lewis, after about five minutes, managed to bring in the boat an 18" trout. His smile was luminous. As I sat there on the back of the boat an watched the son I was given communing with the waters and enjoying the gift of a rainbow; I knew He would never be the same. For a moment, I relived my first catch in the cold waters.

While Maclean was haunted by the waters, I knew that Lewis from this point on would be haunted by the most wonderful sport in the world.....Fly Fishing. The gift that Montana brought was beautiful mountains, fast flowing rivers, loads of elk, mule deer, mountain goats, eagles and a five minute battle with a rainbow.

The Elk at sunset.

Good times are one of the hardest things to leave behind. On this trip, everyday was a new chapter in what seemed to be our own book of life in the middle of Big Sky country! On the same waters that Meriwether Lewis and William Clark mapped the northwest territory, we traversed the turns and straight stretches on the canyon sided banks. I can only imagine what their thoughts were.  
I would say that the waters brought us closer together. But like the waters, we too had to drift on to another place. But for just a few small moments in our life, we were one with the river, one with the fish, and one with each other; together like only a father and son could be. I love Montana, but even more, I love my son and the common bond that we share with God's beautiful creation.

A father son double!!  Near Craig, Montana along the banks of the Missouri River.