“We gotta hit the [REDACTED] River,” he said. “I’ve heard lots of whispering about some big browns there in spring and fall, but I’ve never had the chance to fish it.” When I mentioned that I hadn’t heard any such rumors, Eric just said, “Exactly,” and smiled knowingly. The possibility that there was an “undiscovered” river anywhere in Montana seemed far-fetched, but I figured it was worth humoring him.
Once we were on the ground in Bozeman, we started asking around to see if anyone else felt the same way about the [REDACTED]. “I gotta tell you, I sometimes have a hard time catching fish out of that river,” one guide told us. Another simply said, “I wouldn’t take clients there.” But whereas I heard these as refutations of the rumors, Eric saw things differently. “You notice that nobody is saying there are no fish there? Or that the fish are all small?” he argued. “Sounds to me like they’re trying to hide something.” I was starting to think he was delusional.
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