Day 4: Pronghorns, sagebrush, Wyoming mud and a Bloated North Platte

After scratching off two rivers on my "Rivers I have to fish this summer" and catching a ton of fish on both, I have to admit I was feeling a little cocky.  After all, these western trout aren't as hard to catch as I thought...Think again.  Today's mission on day 4 of the Tailwater Tribe Fly Fishing Tour" was Casper, Wyoming and the famous North Platte River.  After several close calls with jackrabbits and mule deer the day before coming out of Flaming Gorge after fishing the Green River in Utah, I almost added another casualty to my list...A Pronghorn Antelope, the only true native deer relative to the US.  The rest of our deer and their kin supposedly migrated from Eurasia across the Bering Bridge from Russia.  This bridge, of course, does not exist anymore and what's left above the Pacific Ocean is the Bering Straights.  The antelope sprinted to the side of the road and almost ran into my truck.  I applied the brakes, which prompted some other tailgating vehicles to almost have a chain-reaction collision behind me.  Luckily, it all worked out well and everyone got to their destinations safely (I hope).  This antelope was an omen of things to come.  When I finally traveled the 200 miles from Rock Springs, WY, where I spent the night in a Motel 8, I finally crossed my mecca--The North Platte!  Unfortunately, record rainfall and a melting snowcap have this river swollen to record highs.  I felt the plight of the Tailwater Tribesman, which is why I started this blog in the first place, that is, driving long distances only to be shut out from fishing.  This time, I wasn't fighting the whims of the Army Corps of Engineers as I do when traveling to my beloved tailwaters in Arkansas, but the master plan of God Himself, who controls our weather.  I had now traveled over 2500 miles and if you know anything about me, I wasn't going to be discouraged.  I stopped at Platte River Fly Shop on the outskirts of Casper and got a map, a couple of Rock worms (a pattern I hadn't seen before) and a couple Thingamabobbers, indicators designed to float high in high water.  The guys there gave me the best advice they could, but the news was not good.  NO WADING was possible.  I drove 12 miles to the Trappers Access on the North Platte, traveled down a dusty, rutted up road for a couple more and entered an impossible trail that you would only see on one of those off-road shows where the Jeeps crawl over the rocks.  One word of advice; if you make a trip to the North Platte, don't bring the Mini Cooper or the Miata.  These beastly roads require a beastly vehicle.  Luckily, I have one.  My black F-150 beast which my best buddy Randy Carr calls "Darth Vader" was up to the test.  Darth even has a 9000 lb. Warn winch on the front bumper, which would have done me no good if I'd had to use it, as you can't tie a winch cable around sagebrush.  I pulled Darth as far as he would go, lowered the tailgate, assembled the Scott G2, rigged up the elaborate 3X/4X dropper rig using my red San Juan worm and a rockworm dropper with a Thingamabobber and two BB shot and proceeded down to the swollen North Platte.  After two hours of mending, and mending and casting out 60 feet plus from the bank trying to get a drift, I gave up the ghost and eased Darth back down the dusty Wyoming trail.  In a word, I got skunked.  Oh well, so much for feeling cocky, although I'd love another shot at these North Platte trout and may have to hit them again on my way back with my beautiful wife, Laurie, in tow from Bozeman.  The ironic thing about this was, on my way out, two Pronghorn does ambled across the road in front of my truck and stared at me.  Maybe this was their way of bidding me adieu.  I was humbled and thankful at the same time.  This is a trip of a lifetime for me, fish or no fish.  I have a great, loving wife at home who is living vicariously with me on this journey step-by-step and a bunch of great kids at home.  There are a lot of people out there with a lot of problems much greater than mine.  I thank God, Laurie, and my parents for supporting me in this quest which will end at Montana State University as I present my thesis on June 29 in completion of my Master of Science in Science Education.  Thanks, guys.  But a special thanks to Laurie, my lifelong fishing companion who is with me in spirit, but wishes she could be with me in person...

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