It’s Friday September 28th, 2007. Remember Christmas Eve When You Were Eight Years Old. I am sitting in the Hampton Inn Airport South in Atlanta this evening and I feel just like I did on Christmas Eve when I was young–50+ years ago. Anxious is an understatement. Tomorrow morning my wife of 35 years and I get on a plane to Bozeman, Montana. Tomorrow is DAY ONE of 14 days of nothing but Montana fishing (and some great steak dinners). Although I’ve been fishing regularly all summer, I’ve also been gearing up and tying flies for this trip like a crazy man. I have enough Woolly Buggers and Partridge soft-hackles to stock an Orvis store. The rods are clean, the lines are clean, the reels are oiled and the cool-weather gear is all set. The fly boxes have been sorted, and sorted and sorted. If I think about all the $$ I’ve spent the last 60 days on stuff for this trip, Christmas has already come.

I remember my parents telling me I’d grow out of all this Christmas excitement once I got older. I’ve been taking major fishing vacations every year for the last 16 and they were wrong, you don’t grow out of it. Every one of these trips is just like Christmas for a kid. I’ve read and re-read every major work on Montana and Yellowstone fishing again this summer, mentally preparing for the trip. I am re-living every cast from last year and even a few of those I can remember from the 1970s when I first saw Montana. It’s all part of the excitement. I’ve got a dozen or more fly shops bookmarked on the internet and look at river reports on a daily basis. I don’t know how the fishing will be. Sometimes the fishing is better than you think it will be, sometimes it is worse. Whatever it is, it is fishing, in Montana, in the fall. It is Christmas all over again. I’ll let you know what is in the presents Montana provides me as I experience them over the next 14 days.