Pete Tyjas and his daughter Charlie head to Yellowstone National Park on a road trip
The drive down was a long one but worth every second. The Beartooth Pass is breathtaking, there is no other word for it. The road rises into the mountains and climbs to some 10,000 feet or more, giving views over Montana before the road took us into Wyoming.
It was good to be back in Montana again and this time I had my daughter Charlie beside me in the car. The plan, hatched, back in December had been to see as much of the area in and around Yellowstone National Park and to catch some fish too.
Charlie has grown up around fly fishing. She was catching rainbow trout from a lake when she was six and fished with me on the river Taw for wild brown trout from 11.
She would make Saturday morning trips to the tackle shop with me and I’d let her choose a few flies she liked the look of to add to her own fly box.
I was always very careful not to force my passion on to her and as she grew older she just drifted away from it. The odd trip out on Father's Day was about it and when she left for university those stopped too.
As we headed down and into Cooke City and towards the north east entrance of Yellowstone National Park I explained I needed to buy a permit to fish in the park. She probably noticed the double take I gave her when she said she’d like one too.
Permits paid for we followed the road into the park, stopping to look at the Buffalo and of course both secretly hoping we might get lucky and see a bear too.
The road took us by many of the rivers and creeks I had fished before but I tried my best not to sound too excited or give too deep a description that might sound boring as we passed them. We looked to our left and watched the many anglers working water on the Lamar.
The next day I’d booked a float trip on the Yellowstone. I knew Charlie wouldn’t be fishing but drifting the river with stunning scenery and good company with Matthew would be interesting even if she wasn’t fishing. It worked really well. I have fished with Matthew before and as well as being a top class guide he is has an encyclopaedic knowledge of the area. The day passed in haze of cutthroat trout.
That evening we planned where would visit next. This trip was a strange one for me as we had only booked accommodation for a few nights leaving us the flexibility to travel to wherever we fancied. As someone who likes to know where they are heading and where they are staying it was, at first, a little unnerving, but I soon settled into it.
Charlie made her first cast on the Yellowstone. I stood back and watched and swelled with pride. I tried to figure out the last time she’d picked up a rod and reckoned it must have been some nine or 10 years yet the line went out perfectly.
The Gallatin was cold, I hadn’t packed waders and had wet waded for the trip. It was early in the morning and we’d pulled into a lay-by next to the river on the road from West Yellowstone to Big Sky. Charlie had gone for a hike and we’d arranged to meet back at the car a little later.
I looked up the river where it made a small curve from left to right. I caught some fish and wandered back to the car. Charlie is like her father and is always early. We were both 10 minutes early and after asking her how she got on I told her about the pool I just fished and that it was sure to hold some more. I chanced my arm and asked he if she fancied a go. We walked through the bushes to get to it. I was still a little excited she’d said yes.
It didn’t take long and Charlie was soon playing a nice whitefish. Then another, and the next was a rainbow. I could have stayed there a little longer but knew this would be enough.
One of the highlights of the trip for me was fishing the Gibbon, a stream in Yellowstone National Park with Charlie. We walked, talked and caught some fish. She even guided me onto a nice brown trout that she’d spotted and I caught a grayling there too.
We covered 2,000 miles on the trip and fished the Yellowstone, Madison, Jefferson, Snake and Gallatin along with numerous streams and creeks too. It wasn’t a fishing trip, it was more than that, much more.
I don’t think the trip rekindled any sort of passion in fly fishing for Charlie and I don’t really mind perhaps she’ll pick up a rod if we embark on another road trip again sometime. Who knows?
Many thanks to Charlie for making it such a wonderful trip and for the cool pictures too