Picture this Trout bums: The sound of rain on a blue tarp, the crackle and illumination of a cedar campfire, the smell and smoke of pork ribs on the BBQ, all this after a long day of fine fishing. We had the ribs the last night out on our fall trip to the North Fork of the Clearwater River in Idaho. This is my old friend Roy’s recipe for ribs and includes par boiling them in beer, brown sugar and Louisiana hot sauce for an hour then finishing them on a hot grill with gobs of BBQ sauce. Oh mama this is the way to happiness.

The last night out is usually a little more subdued as we consider returning to the long bitter grind to death, but this trip I think we were glad to leave. Chris, Mark and myself had fished like animals for six days and were more than tired and a little beat up. From time to time Mother Nature reminds me I am over the hill. Not out of the game but defiantly not aging gracefully. The North Fork of the Clearwater is a big wide Man Eater in the middle of nowhere, down thirty miles of gravel road. Driving in, at each turn is another gorgeous riffle, run, or pool its only after walking and wading it that begins to make some sense of scale. Those rocks that look like great pocket water from the road are the size of boxcars. This is big country; full of wildlife we saw Moose and Bear up close. The fishing itself is classic cutthroat fare, just find the right water at the right speed and depth and you’re into fish. For some reason we decided to fish the big dry bugs most of the time, but that last evening Chris and I were getting nymph withdrall. We rigged up a stone fly pheasant tail combo and proceeded to get strikes on almost every cast. In one pocket the size of three garbage can lids we hooked up fourteen times, some were big white fish, all were satisfying. Our camp was located at the confluence of Kelly Creek and the N.F.of the Clearwater, the campground was full of anglers from back east, all having spent time and money to ply the sacred waters of Kelly Creek We also took a day to fish the world famous Kelly Creek. I will admit it was pretty and we caught a lot of small fish but it would never be destination for me again. I never got that feeling in my bones that there were lots of lunkers lurking about. Besides the fishing what I most remember about this trip is Marks horrific coffee. Over the years in fishing camps I’ve had weak coffee, strong coffee, nasty coffee and cold coffee but nothing close to this harsh swill. Mark suggested that if I had smoked a few cigarettes the coffee would have improved dramatically. Chris did get him another kind of coffee maker for this year, were hoping for the best

I have been taking a Trout Bum fishing trip for the last twenty years and I would recommend it highly, especially to you younger bums. Make a trip part of your new years schedule, trust me the house will still need painting when you get home. Oh, and in case your wondering a nice sturdy Zinfandel is the appropriate wine to have with ribs.