You know that feeling you get when you return to your home river after being elsewhere for years? It's the same feeling you get when you finally walk up to the banks of a stream that until then you've only read about in magazines. It's the same feeling you get when the leaves change colors, the air becomes noticeably crisper, and you're able to stalk the banks of your favorite trout stream knowing that aggresive and overweight lake run browns have probably invaded the waters within the past couple of days. Well, this is the same feeling that I get every time I fish the Beaverhead River in southwest Montana. It's a boiling anticipation, a childlike excitement mixed with a more mature serenity, there's both physiological adrenaline and mental peace.
Most of us have heard the theory that there are stages to the development of a fly fisherman. First, fly fishing is all about catching as many fish as you can. Then, it's all about catching big fish. Finally, fly fishing becomes all about the actual experience of being out in nature catching fish the "way" that you want to catch them. I'm not convinced that this developmental progression applies to all, but if it does, years ago I prematurely jumped to stage two and I can't get out.