Most people don’t consider January to be a good “road trip” month in the Rocky Mountains. Not because the fishing is lackluster but more so because the driving conditions can vary from difficult to shit-show.
When we took off from Denver to go swingin’ in Wyoming we planned for a late-night arrival as we passed through a little snowfall. Well, as luck would have it, we never got to our destination. Tanner, Dan, Gus, and myself all slept in the cab of the Ford pickup while stranded with a flat tire and no toolset.
The F.O.R.D. acronym (Found On Roadside Dead) suddenly had a new meaning. We passed the time by taking down a case of cold snacks for dinner and as we played every Childers song available, waiting on a random passerby.
The next morning, after a couple 30-minute stints of sleep, an old man by the name of Mr. Fisher happening to be driving by and saved our ass with a lug wrench and a jack. The trip was back on.
As per usual, Gus didn’t seem phased whatsoever and by the end of our time on the water, we managed to lasso in a few fine specimens despite the sour start.
Honestly, the drone only came out on one occasion and it happened to be the last swing and grab of the trip. I can’t lie, the drive back was a little tense.
Every turn we took on the backcountry dirt roads reminded us that we no longer had a spare tire and there were a few hundred miles of pothole-ridden roads between us and home base.
Words and film from David James, be sure to check out his YouTube channel here and on Instagram at @davisjamesoutdoors.