Season 2 – Episode 11 – “Go Big or Go Home”
Dawn at the Gold Rope Ranch… Rusty Flathers remains under the watchful eye of the house doctor (strict R and R) while a host of visitors, along with Sally and her film entourage, prepare for a full day of Blue Ribbon trout fishing. For the past five consecutive years the ranch has been designated by the state of Montana as the premier destination for a recreational fishery of extremely high quality.
Two women sat opposite each other in the Marabou Anglers Club House of the lodge. It was time for Sally Squatsnfishes to “Go Big or Go Home”… And Ellie Waylayer was very much at home.
Seventeen miles of the Windrush River cut its way through peaks and valleys of the ranch. The average currents range from 5-8mph. A fast pace for a drift boat… A dangerous speed for wading.
With a plethora of pictorial options (rainbow, brown, brook, cutthroat, bull) today’s primary target would be the historic rainbow trout. The state record in Montana is over 33-pounds… And it has been rumored on more than one occasion that Jackie Loonsuckle saw a larger fish roaming the waters on the ranch.
Fishing with streamers is a favorite way to target big fish during the fall season. But nymphing under an indicator (bobber) can also be highly effective. Either way… Fall trout on the Windrush River are looking to pack on calories for the winter and finding a cooperative bite is generally the norm.
Sally was a streamer… Outfitting herself with a Sage Igniter. Her preference was to look for aggressive fish with Satkowski Shake & Bake streamers, and the 9-foot 6-weight rod is designed to handle larger loads. With its super-fast taper an angler can cut through the wind like a hot knife through butter.
Ellie was a nympher… With a soft spot for a prized Winston Air 2 rod. This is the ultimate nymphing rod… A true workhorse at 10-feet 7-weight it can handle large trout with a “do anything and everything” attitude. For a trophy presentation she was preparing to fish a Flashback Pheasant Tail that creates bubbles and mimics the hatching process of late fall flies.
“Good morning gals!” announced Jacke Loonsuckle. “The trucks are loaded… Are we ready to get ‘em?”
Neither woman responded as Sally slipped on her fashionable HELLY TECH jacket and exited the room without so much as a nod. The two-layer construction of fabric was built to battle the elements, and there was obviously a brewing confrontation.
Ellie shrugged her shoulders and pushed past Jackie on her way to meet and organize the balance of the ranch’s angling visitors. She would deal with Sally when they got to the river.
Jackie was a fly-bum… That is how he met Ellie at Montana State University, and this is what he continues to be. They are a couple, but when the bite calls, he will travel the globe with little correspondence as Ellie holds down the proverbial fort at the ranch. This relationship of convenience has lasted the better part of eight years, but his straining lack of commitment was evident today, as she briskly paced away from him and marched toward her true passion (running the day-to-day operations at the ranch).
A parade of vehicles packed with guides – fly fishing gear – food – beverages – anxious anglers, was parked bumper to bumper as the corral gate was opened by Ron Heimburg and Geoff Loonsuckle. This signaled departure time for all anglers, and the co-owners wished them well as they passed by on the two-track heading for the banks of the Windrush River.
“Good luck gang,” they shouted as each group passed through the gate. “We’ll see ya for happy hour!”
Have you ever wanted someone to notice you so badly that it hurt? That was Rusty Flathers… He would purposely lag after high school basketball practice. Always being the last one to shower… And always being the last one to leave the locker room… Alone.
Reason being? When he came up from the locker and made his way toward the exit he would have to pass through the school commons. Coincidently (NOT) this was also a time he would often see Ellie Waylayer sitting alone at a cafeteria table, spinning a pencil, tackling homework, and waiting for one of her parents to pick her up for a ride home.
At first it was a glance… Then maybe a nod… And finally, it was a more cordial “Hello”.
Rusty spent his entire high school senior year working up the courage to ask Ellie on a date. But he never got up the nerve to make it happen.
Then summer came and Ellie was first to make a move. Thank God!
Short of attacking him at the local quarry during a swimming bash… If it were not for her… There would have always been a “what if” stuck to his stack of sticky note regrets. She had been his one and only romance, prior to his most recent with Sally.
All went silent outside his window. The final vehicle departed the ranch making its way with the parade of trucks and SUVs to the fishing grounds. Almost as silent was Sally Squatsnfishes, per the lack of attention she was displaying toward Rusty, in his current state of recovery.
Since the bison incident… She had visited his room exactly ONCE. Sally could be a hard woman at times. But as Rusty lay in bed sifting through the events of the past 48-hours he could not help but wonder if it was over between the two of them.
Ellie on the other hand… A kindred soul. Not only did she save his life, but she also made hourly visits to his bedside and asked sincere questions about his physical well-being.
“Get your head in the game Rusty!” He inaudibly told himself. “How many damn times has Sally saved your ass and never asked anything in return? YES! Too many to count!”
“Ellie is not interested… She’s told you as much… And she’s with wonder boy Jackie Loonsuckle.”
These third person discussions can be exhausting. “Go Big or Go Home” his father Doobie Flather used to tell him. And Rusty was thinking maybe it was time to go home.
– To Be Continued –