It was one of those perfect bluebird fall days. Snow was coming soon so we knew this might be the last time we see this little stream for months. On our walk to the spot we were brimming with anticipation to see if it was going to be a good day or bad day out on the water. All we knew was that there weren't going to be any other people.
The fishing was good. By this time of year, all of the big fish head back into the main river and the smaller guys try to get their fill of food before the long winter. After figuring out what the fish would eat and where they were held up, we systematically made our way up the river for a couple of miles hitting all of the good spots and landing loads of native, Yellowstone Cutthroat.
At one point, two huge bucks crossed the river, two of the biggest deer we had ever seen. It was hunting season, so a rare and beautiful site to see such large deer roaming so carelessly.
On our hike back to the car we passed a herd of elk in the near distance. They all turn into silent statues or make their way back into the thick as we pass. It was a good, cold, day of cutthroat fishing.