Fall Migration

Summer is fading, and fall is creeping closer each day. The cool evening breezes have allowed us to pull our favorite sweatshirts from the back of the closet as we walk or sit on the deck to watch the day slip away. It's time for our Fall Migration.

The end of summer marks something of a tradition for Jennifer and me as we pack up and head to the rivers and creeks of Idaho, Montana, and Wyoming for what we fondly call our Trout Bum Road Trip. What started as a last-minute escape from the fires on the Deschutes during our much anticipated Steelhead camp has turned into an annual trek to some of our favorite wild places.

Normally, I strategically plan the route and target waters to maximize fishing time and minimize driving time. I spend months marking possible campsites or making reservations where needed. I pour over Google Maps and my Garmin Earthmate App as we plan which dusty roads to explore in search of Cutthroat, Brown Trout, and Rainbows. I love maps and charts. This is a habit born of my years at sea, where navigation required participation and not simply chatting with a virtual assistant speaking from the dashboard. Still, I do love my onboard satellite navigation and communication equipment, which allow me to mark places to explore and then drive right to them. If the satellite images are correct. Of course, the best-laid plans are subject to prevailing weather patterns and desires, and the resulting track always varies somewhat from the original route. Ultimately, it's all about the adventure and the chance to fish new waters.

This year, we're winging it. That's right; there are no reservations, no route, and no appointments to keep; there is just camp gear, food, fly rods, and an open road in front of us. It should be interesting.

The Fall Migration is about fun and busting out fishing tackle that might not see a regular rotation. Bamboo, fiberglass, and old classic graphite rods are dusted off and revisited with an eclectic collection of reels dating from the early 1900s to last week. It's like visiting old friends and favorite places, all wrapped into an epic road trip that never lasts long enough. A Trout Bum Roadtrip. The very best kind of escape.