here's a water color i did recentlyFort Smith, Montana is in the middle of nowhere. Where the Rockies meet the Plains and where life is placed on the edge of insanity. It boasts of nothing more really than four fly shops and a gas station and about 200 or so people during the peak summer season. The Bighorn River flows right by this small collection of trailer homes and most residents, including myself, go to work on the ditch everyday. Letters from the Trailer Park will document the alternative lifestyle of guiding and fishing for a living through horribly written essays, lame journal entries, crappy photography, and mediocre artwork. I hope to share with you the passions of nature and fly fishing and the journeys that take us there throughout the next season and the many seasons to come.
The clouds just broke and the sun ought to warm this ice box up in a couple of hours. If the winds lay low temperatures should hit above 30, in which case I plan to go fishing. Probably just go down to 3 Mile Access and fart around the channels for a little bit.
