Posted by: nativeiowan | May 6, 2011

Trout fishing in America

I sit in the departure lounge of the Missoula, Montana airport.

I am beguiled by this land. My lord! It is insane. The diversity and sheer volume of life taking place in this terribly frightening and inviting landscape…

I hear the sirens calling.

I will be back. I am looking at my calendar now and thinking I need time to get “able” for the this land. We’re dealing with an unforgiving playing field here. I feel stronger and better after three days but sore and sadly unwell too. I need to get my cardio up. I need my skeletal system to be at optimum to wade fast running rivers and hike the hills and valleys. I am sore. SORE!

But I smell of wild-fire and adventure. Dok C. took me out and forced my fat arse up a small hill where we smudged for the journey. I smell of the mountains and the wilds. I welcome the run down into Mother Pacific.

So I am coming back. Maybe as soon as September. If I can set up shop here and spend all of October and early November I may be competent and “fit” for these mountains. It is an honour I aspire to.

My legs are shot. I just climbed some stairs and did not do it gracefully. Had to take my boots off for security check and got everyone’s attention with my painful moans and groans.

I drank some beer in some classic Missoula bars with Dok C before coming here. I wear a “Mo Club” hat and have one of their world-class burgers in my belly. I am merrily sedated. I have a double expresso americano by my side. I will inject wakefulness to ensure my crossing from LA to Brisbane is relaxed if not comatose.

So it’s down hill from the land of my birth. I’ll head into the saline south to the land of my choice. But, golly-gee, these mountains are great. I am going to become intimate with this place. I know I have been spoilt by my youthful adventures in Melanesia but this land here, around Missoula, is magical, magical, magical…

I now have 3 of the 4…



  1. Sounds like a plan…

  2. […] […]

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