Up every dusty, bumpy trail leads us somewhere where we can unlock ourselves in the pursuit of great visions. Being a medium difficulty trail, six and a half miles up the mountain, there were spots where I could of had a bad day, but was no match for my dedication and wisdom to reach my final destination. Meandering through lush meadows, tackling creek crossings, and traversing a root and stone laden trail on an electric bike, this is what life is about for a young montana man. To go where life really is, where my spirit belongs, which seems near euphoric to reach my plans desires. All on my own this time, I took extra caution for my safety. The only eyes keeping me company were my own, the deceased, and natures grace to reward me with what's respectfully deserved.

Through steady ascension, I find myself in awe reaching my holy land. A beautiful blue lake appears in the cradle of proud, defensive cliffs. Nothing puts the cherry on top like a rising trout, portraying themselves in the lustering radiance of the sun above crystal clear depths. Little pieces of gold bullion for my fly fisherman and trout loving spirit. I go great lengths for them, and haven't found anything else equally rewarding or appreciative than what trout water and land teaches a person if they watch and listen.

Magnificent Yellowstone Cutthroat Trout cruise the shallows and surface foraging on the underwater and surface prey. A large frog keeps to the grassy marshes, basking on a submerged log. The meadows surrounding the lake provide endless plants and insects to enjoy. With lots of patience throughout the day, I was able to net eight trout with my tenkara rod using various flies. Watching a fish's reaction to your offering is always an exciting endeavor that's different from each fish.

If permissable, walking the perimeter of a mountain lake provides such joy as I see many things that makes each mountain lake unique in their own. I get to know the place more in depth as more information is gathered. As I sit down under the shade of large pines, staring into natures great sanctuary, the only sound is the splash of a nearby hungry trout and the infinity of silence, a thinkers paradise I have found myself with fly rod in hand and an open mind...........Sky Joyner Pilago