Information in hand, we decided to drive up as far as Canyon as that sounded like one of the more interesting places in the park, stopping on the way to photograph whatever wildlife we happened to come across (Elk and Bison on that first trip). The waterfall at Canyon was well worth the drive and we had even managed to book ourselves into a fishing trip on the way up there. All we had to do was drive back in time to make the boat.
Yellowstone's Grand Canyon
Sounds ominous doesn’t it?
As always, yours truly was the only one that actually stressed about the time commitment and I distinctly recall saying something about leaving on time because “it only takes one Bison on the road to delay you!” (We’d passed lots of them and some significant herds on the way up).
Such prophetic words. We were of course running later than I for one preferred in order to head back and make our fishing charter when we came to a complete standstill behind a line of cars. The line curved down around a series of trees which blocked us from seeing what the cause could be. Ever so slowly the traffic inched ahead and the time ticked on toward our scheduled departure.
Caroline got on the phone (which was a hit and miss affair in the wilds of the park) to try and let them know that we were on our way, but were stuck in traffic.
As we finally moved to a point where we could see what was going on, it was indeed bison blocking the road. It seemed like the entire herd had decided to cross just at that particular moment, which may have not been so bad if it had simply crossed over, but these were big woolly coated, thick headed bison; with calves. And do you think they could make up their minds as to which way to go? Hell no, back and forth across the road they wandered, tourists with massive grins aiming their cameras at them and snapping away. And all the time our time ticked away. Finally, five minutes before we were due to be at our destination (which was 20 minutes away) Caroline got through to the right people and they told us that they’d hold the boat (lucky we were the only ones on it)
We made it to the charter location and set out for our 2 hour fishing adventure. The wind had blown up a bit, so we weren’t taken all the way across the lake like most of the trips, but did find a sheltered spot where we could get the rods out and cast out our lures with their barb-less hooks.
Sadly only three of us were allowed to fish at a time, much to the kids disgust (and to Caroline’s disappointment) so there was quite a bit of rod and time management involved in trying to let everyone have a good go. I was starting to think that it was all a big bust when I first felt a fish take my line. It was at that point that the fact that the reel was left handed undid me. Rather than what I was used to, holding the rod with my left hand and managing the reel with my right, this was reversed, so when I went to jag the hook and bring it in, all I did was fumble about a bit and the fish was gone.
At least it was a moment of excitement. I was up the bow of the boat and of course as soon as that had happened, despite the fact that I’d been fishing to the stern, Michael wanted to get up there as well (as much because it meant climbing past the cabin rather than standing in the boring designed to be fished from stern of the craft). Soon I had three boys with me and very little room! Fortunately as they managed to get a turn with the rods they spread out a bit.
After moving the drifting boat and whilst still at the bow, I heard some excitement and Thomas was reeling in a nice big trout. It turns out there’s two types of trout in Lake Yellowstone, Yellowstone Cutthroat and Lake Trout. The Cutthroat is protected and thus catch and release whilst the Lake trout is not allowed to be thrown back, but unlike the old European Carp of the Murray, is apparently worth eating.
Thomas reeled in a Cutthroat. I think we have a photo, though he declined to give it a kiss before sending it on its way!
Rods changed hands, people moved about and I believe Caroline was the next person to reel in a fish. Now I should mention that these were fish worth catching, being as long as from my elbow to my fingertips if not longer. I too managed to snag one and get it all the way to the boat and must say that I thoroughly enjoyed it. Both Caroline’s and mine were Cutthroat as well.
That just left the two eldest boys and a little girl. Everyone wanted to cast the lure out, though this of course meant that it often didn’t go far (especially where Emily was involved) and they wanted to hook and reel in their own fish (especially Michael). The problem was that there’s a particular jagging action to use as you reel the rod in and I just don’t think the kids quite had the hang of it. I offered to help Sam and after a couple of casts he was happy to have me try and hook something for him if he got to reel it in. I managed to snag one and Sam happily got it back to the boat. You guessed it, another cutthroat. I don’t think Michael was quite right in claiming that it was the same fish over and over again!
Poor Michael, who would refuse all help was left with his bottom lip getting lower and the storm clouds brewing over his brow as time marched on. And when it was time to go back and he hadn’t brought in a fish, it was positively stormy (well not literally). Fortunately our guide was sensitive to the situation and part way back, called Michael up to the wheel and had him drive the boat most of the way back. A wonderful little salvage operation, I must say.
And so we drove home for yet another late dinner (I was thoroughly over 9pm dinners by now) and found that our friends Matt and Bron had arrived in their new caravan and so drinks were drunk and dinner deferred even later as we closed out the day discussing what we’d get up to on the ‘morrow.
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