A Trout named Stubby. By: Alvin Montana

Sometimes things just don’t go as planned. I’m sure you have been there; life throws you a curve ball and the next thing you know you’re looking up wondering what just happened. Well, that’s exactly where I’m sitting. The past few weeks are a blur due to a family emergency. Sitting in the hospital for a few weeks changes your perspective.

I had great plans for the coming few weeks. I was set to leave early one morning on a fly-fishing trip for carp. Then the 3:30 am phone call that all parents dread came. “Hello, Mr. Montana, this is …. with the Emergency Department your son has been in an accident. You lose all sense of the world. At that moment, you fade away into a place that only someone who has received this phone call understands. Your plans become a distant thought. Your mind races with what ifs.

The time passes slowly waiting on Dr.’s and surgeries. Things progress and plans are made for the future care and what is needed. During all this you drift away from the chaos back to the stream. You can feel the sun and water, you can breathe the fresh mountain air. The trout of your memories come alive. I think this is how we survive the difficult moments of life for when there is nothing we can do but live in our memories. This moment brings me back to a particular trout and a rough day.

It was earlier in the season, and I had plans for an excursion. A flat tire left my Subaru undrivable for a few days. This left my wife and I carpooling. It was a Monday evening, so I commandeered her car to hit one of my local haunts.
On the ride there my mind was wandering as it often does. Thoughts of the stream and what it may hold. I could see the perfect brown trout in my thoughts: Fat and round, 20inches, big spots and that beautiful orange glow. Yes, this was the night!!

I arrived at my spot with this vision of the perfect night and the prefect trout. Well, much like today or any day for that matter things did not go as planned. It was my first time trying out my New J.P. Ross Beaver Meadow S-Glass 8FT 5WT and the anticipation was high. As I was preparing my rod I got lost in its beauty. In case you don’t know, J.P. is an artist, and his fly rods are his canvas, and this particular rod is an absolute work of art.

I slowly walked down to the stream watching the surface hoping to catch a glimpse of a spinner or a caddis on the water. But alas this was not a night for dries. Without a trace of top water action, I quickly strung my rod with a Stone Fly size 8 and size 16 shop Vac. I started fishing the fast water and had several hits right away, just no takers. Then out of nowhere I got a solid hookup. My flies just drifted past a big boulder and the fight was on. I could really feel this fish fight with the s-glass, and I knew right then I loved this rod. 30 seconds into the fight and Son of a Bee’s wax!! Just like that he was off. I could tell this was a good fish and it had been a tough couple day and now he was gone.

This fish awakened my spirit. I moved downstream to a stretch of slower water where I knew some nice fish sip dries when the hatch is on. I cast and let my flies drift in the meandering current. I could feel a hit. I could tell this fish was special, he was diving deep and fighting. Time at that moment slowed. The rod bent; the line tightened with a furious fight!! This is what we live for! I could see the trout, what an amazing dark color it had. It did a head shake as only a large trout can do, down he went for another run. I was ready. He fought but my rod with its sweet s-glass just bent and let him fight. There was no fear of the tippet breaking, it was just a matter of time, and this fish would be in the net. The fight lasted maybe 2 minutes but seemed like seconds. This beautiful survivor was in my net. I stood in awe… here in my net was a hatchery fish that was missing half of his snout. The top portion of this trout’s head was deformed, a tell-tale sign of a hatchery fish. He was 15 plus inches fat and healthy.

This fish was born in hatchery with odds stacked against him, he managed to survive long enough to be stocked on the stream where he would face most certain death. Yet what most likely was a year after stocking, here he was defying all odds. This trout was and is a survivor. I sat admiring Stubby as he became to be known a truly unique and beautiful trout. I set up to get a quick picture and as the timer was about to go off, we had a visitor. A large Black bear about 250lbs or greater came running across the stream and up the bank in our direction. A sense of amazement came followed by a quick shout of HEY BEAR! As the bear heard me, he took off and ran back where he came from.

Shaken and inspired. Stubby had a story of struggle and survival and inspiration for us all. Maybe that’s why this story; this fish stuck in my memory on this day. Reality begins to set back in and if I never visit a hospital again it will be too soon. Just like Stubby, maybe we all have a story of survival and a beautiful life ahead…