Latest
Update: September 7, 2002 by Ben Marcus
9:00
MT TIME SUNDAY SEPTEMBER 7, 2002 THE KINKOS IN BOZEMAN
Bozeman
is a nice little Montana town about 24 miles east of Three Forks
on Highway 90. It's spread out but slowly getting strip-malled.
The downtown is all old brick buildings that have been taken good
care of, and there are mountains off in every distance.
Montana
State University is here and there is a Kinkos right across the
street. Hurray for Higher Education.
I
came here this morning after French Toast at the Three Fork's
CafÚ. I have every intention of following Marty Walker's suggestion
to flog the Jefferson from Waterloo to Three Forks with Royal
Coachmen later today, but it was foggy this morning so I thought
I'd drive into Bozeman and check e-mail and take care of bidness.
I
got a little work done last night so I'll probably hang out in
Three Forks today and fish and do some more work tonight in that
nice bar at the Sacajewa Inn.
I
just sent an e-mail to Malcolm Gault-Williams and Gary Lynch requesting
info on any stunts Duke Kahanamoku and Tom Blake might have done
for Hollywood.
Lynch
is a Blake expert and I'm trying to find someone who has seen
all the movies Duke made, including Wake of the Red Witch in which
Duke Kahanamoku played a Hawaiian chief, next to The Duke.
That's
about it. Ike is fine and says hello.
Hope
I won the Powerball, then I can buy a ranch which Brandy the Biological
Bartendress can turn into an environmentally correct showplace
and ya'll can come on up.
18:03
MONTANA TIME SATURDAY SEPTEMBER 7, 2002 THE BAR OF THE SACAJEWA
INN, THREE FORKS, MONTANA
This
place was closed last summer. Mike Locatelli suggested I drive
up here to Three Forks after fishing the Big Hole to have dinner
at the Sacajewa Inn. And I also had heard that Fred Van Dyke lived
in the area. So I did drive up to Three Forks but the Sacajewa
Inn was closed and Fred Van Dyke was in the phone book but not
in the area. I ended up having a pretty memorable dinner at the
Headwaters Restaurant: cowboy beans, chunky vegetable soup and
baked halibut. It was that memorable that I still remember it
and I don't remember much these days. That's why I write all down
and send it you good people. After 10 years at a magazine, your
memory gives up.
So
here I am again, and this time the Sacajewa Inn is open, and it's
mighty nice. I'm in the bar which kind of reminds me of the Alyeska
Prince. It is clean and well-lighted and there is a TV set and
some good old boy and the bartendress asked me about my laptop
and I told her to buy a Gateway and she said she had graduated
from Stanford in 2001 with a degree in biology. Now she does environmental
consulting for ranches in Montana. I asked her if Montanans were
as sophisticated and progressive as I've been saying and she smiled
quietly to herself and said, "Sometimes."
I
drove up to Three Forks this morning after waking up at the Burnt
Tree Hole Campground on the Madison River along the Madison River
valley in foggy rain. I felt better after a long, frustrating
day but my voice was still hoarse from uttering oaths. I flogged
that piece of river for a little while and then drove up to the
Varney Bridge where two guys from Pennsylvania thought it was
pretty funny when I backcast into a tree and lost my leader and
a big black and yellow fly.
"You
can't catch nuthin' up there," the guy from Pennsylvania said.
Good
thing I didn't have Mr. Walther.
So
then I bathed in the river and felt much better and went into
town and sent some e-mails from the office of Ken Hall and then
I went to the Laundromat and did my clothes and had conversations
with an elderly couple from Washington who were cruising around
The West like me, and an elderly lady with her two grandkids who
was originally from Ennis but who had lived in New York City during
the Woodstock times. She said that Montana needed the rain or
hay would go up to $200 a ton and that just wasn't right.
Ike
ran around the Laundromat a bit and it was raining and dreary
outside and once the clothes were all good and dry, we headed
up the road.
While
waiting for things to dry I looked at a map and figured out how
to go the rest of this trip. Three Forks was the only priority
and then when I looked a little bit harder I figured I'd do a
reverse of what I did last year: Through Wisdom and the Big Hole,
then down through Idaho along the Salmon River through Challis
where there is a little girl that is an Ike fan and she'll be
glad and maybe more than a little surprised to see him.
Then
down through Ketchum/Sun Valley and some poking around in Warm
Springs and maybe I'll bump into Bruce Willis and pitch Fin to
him.
And
then from there the quickest way across Oregon to the head of
the Klamath and then to Greg Noll's house.
And
after that, back to Santa Cruz I guess. I want to take a look
at the Jim Phillips book and make corrections that Jim will not
want to do but eventually will. Not all of them, but some of them.
But
I'll take my time doing it. I'm in no hurry to get back and I
just explained why to bartendress Brandy. She understands. She
lived in Portola Valley and Mountain View and liked it well enough.
But Montana is the place to be. Do it all, see it all and then
come here.
I
just pitched the Sports Awards to Brandy the biology bartendress
and a guy from Indiana and two guys from Montana. They were talking
about Elway and The Play and I happened to have a photo of The
Play on my computer which lead to a conversation about the Sports
Awards.
It
probably wouldn't work in Montana but the guy from Indiana (Jonah
Brown?) knows all about Indiana basketball and he thinks the show
would work there. Bobby Knight as a Guest Presenter, etc. etc.
So
what else. I know where I'm going and about when I'm going to
get there but today was a nice drive up from Ennis to Three Forks
and now that I think about it I think I did that drive last year.
I stopped at a bridge over the Jefferson River and dipped a few
as Ike ran between my legs and it was just like last year.
Peace
and quiet and the only sound is the sound of growing alfalfa and
running water. Nice.
So
now it's 18:46 and I've had two beers and Ike is running around
outside because I never learn and I'm going to head over to the
Headwaters when the sun goes down and maybe eat some more cowboy
beans and whatever else looks good.
Fred
Van Dyke used to live around here somewhere and I wonder where.
Although this is true for most of Montana, this is a very nice
part of the world.
20:15
I'm still in the bar at the Sacajewa Inn. The Brandy the biological
bartendress talked me into eating something, so I ordered the
Crab Mushrooms. I said, "Are those good Montana crabs?" And she
laughed and the bar laughed.
Now
I just made another funny. I said. "Since these mushrooms come
from the pastures and these good Montana crabs come from the river,
you should call this Field and Stream." She laughed. Damn, I'm
humorous. Guess I'll have to leave a nice tip.
There
is a Montana couple sitting nearby and the woman just did what
George did the other night in Yellowstone. She was talking to
another woman who said she was from Bozeman. The Montana woman
said, "But not originally. I can tell." And she was right. The
other woman was from Nebraska.
George
did that in West Yellowstone. A woman overheard me talking about
Tiburon and Belvedere and she said she was from Healdsburg. George
said, "But not originally." And he was right. She was from Kansas.
How
can you tell if someone isn't from Healdsburg?
Where
in the hell is Healdsburg?
The
Williams sisters are doing their zulu warrior act in the finals
of the US Open, and this is a pleasant night. There is a wedding
party here and I'm sitting on a Powerball ticket for the $80 million
drawing tonight.
I'll
buy half of Montana for that.
This
thing is about to run out of juice but I'm afraid to plug it in
because that Montana woman tripped over the cord last time.
I'm
working on the Fin screenplay. This is nice.
Montanans
are kind of like the Texas family in Giant, when they get social.
They speak loudly in restaurants and talk about football and kicking
butt in high school and poke each other in the butt and say semi-crude
things right out loud. Fun stuff.
Just
got a faceful of Sarena William's big zulu bootie on the TV. Went
outside to check on Ike and the wedding party downstairs were
playing "Baby Got Back." Ike went down to the basement to poke
around apparently, but now he is hanging outside.
He's
a good cat.
And
here's another idea. On all the fishing regulation signs at all
the fishing holes they say, "Pack it in and Pack it out," referring
to trash.
Maybe
that Jim Phillips would consider drawing a Pack Your Trash sticker
for the State of Montana, with a fisherman instead of a surfer
throwing trash over his shoulder, as the trout look on in distaste?
Might
work.
What
do you know, there are three Montanans talking about football
right in front of me. The year the Grizzlies won the National
Championship.
22:10
I'm still here. Drinking coffee, cleaning up the files on my computer.
Good thing, too, because I almost lost all the interviews I did
with Buzzy Kerbox, Brock Little, Mikey Munoz and Rochelle Ballard
for the Price of Gas article, and that would have been a bummer.
They're
already flogging the 9/11 news on CNN and I'm sure that's going
to go on for a few days.
I
thought 9/11 was a direct slap in the face of the Bush family,
because Desert Storm was very much George Bush's war, and it was
my suspicion that crashing planes into the WTC was a way to hound
and harass the administration of Bush Jr.
I
have since learned otherwise. The WTC crash was an assault on
the Jewish business interests centered in New York City.
It
could have been a lot of things-like who killed JFK?-but that's
what it was. Israel.
22:44
Still here. Watching the college scores. Need a phone line to
check e-mail. Oh well. Hope Ike is okay. This is a nice place.
Brandy.Moses@stanfordalumni.org
As the bar was shutting down I got into a conversation with a
"fishin fool" named Marty Walker. I said his name sounded like
a country singer and he looked a bit like a country singer but
this was a guy who roamed all over the west working on water projects.
He filled me in on every secret fishing spot from here to Sun
Valley and beyond.
Here
are my notes, the highlight of which is the expression, "Happier
than a puppy with two peters."
Galen.
Take a right. Go up to the bridge. Parking area. Clark Fork.
Pheasant
tails and royal coachmen.
Gallatin.
Tomorrow. Spanish Creek. Royal Coachmen. Little mayflies. 16 and
18. Throw them out.
Happier
than a puppy with two peters.
Four
hours. After 10 I quit counting
Big
Hole. 45 bends. Everybody floats it.
I
90 take Moose Creek exit. Maiden Rock.
From
the bridge. North up the river. Big pool along the railroad tracks.
Turquoise
pool.
Fish.
Beaverhead. Point Dexter Slough. Past the college. The Old Highway.
Cross the bridge. A slough under the bridge. Get in at that point
and walk up. South?
Slough
winds back into the Beaverhead. Anything you want to put on.
Western
Montana.
Maiden
Rock either side of the bridge.
Maiden
Rock. Go through cottonwoods. Big eddy. Great big huge eddy.
15
pound brown trout. Though I had a beaver.
Made
a big splash.
Wakaina
Lake. Cherry Creek Road. Melrose. Off Cherry Creek road. The road
goes up and dead-ends at a trailhead. Top of that lake. 20 pound
lake trout or anything you want. Cutthroats.
Mount
Tahipa.
Tobacco
Root.
River
fishing. Tomorrow. Jefferson River. Waterloo to Three Forks. By
far will put the Big Hole to shame. Better fishing than.
Big
Horn girl.
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