Re: Pick One Before You Go
Although it's not in the Rockies, back where I grew up there was a very nice smallmouth river that meandered through cow pastures and old hills. My Uncle and I would spend whole days in the Summer wet wading our way upstream, dodging copperheads in the shallows between beautiful, deep holes filled with fiesty smallmouths and casting crawfish and popper patterns for miles. Then we'd turn around and do it all the way back to the truck.
Every time I fantasize about the perfect day's fly fishing, that's what I come back to.