Walking back to the car, the sagebrush whistled as a stronger than normal wind blew steadily from the north. We were in the high country in search of some late season browns willing to chase ugly looking streamers. But on this day, it wasn’t meant to be. And as we broke down our gear in dejection, we found solace in retreating to the comforts of the modest SUV. Not having caught a fish, the “Crullers”, jerky, and Gatorade seemed victory enough as we formulated a new plan.
The pavement of Highway 14 softened the front two tires, offering relief from the last thirty miles of Colorado “Grade 6” gravel that had rattled us back to the Poudre. Who would have guessed that my backup plan would involve this river…Besides me?