I am a sportsman that has
had the good fortune to have hunted and fished all over the North American
Continent, including parts of Canada including fishing overseas when the
opportunity presented itself.
I also pride myself on
following appropriate game laws especially when I am in the field alone and
have only my conscience to guide me. And I only take from nature what I need,
and always give back in some form or another as my small way of preserving the
outdoors for generations yet to come.
On occasion I have
fly-fished the Madison and Gallatin rivers in Big Sky Montana, just to the
North of Yellowstone Park In Wyoming. Most states have reciprocal agreements
with each other, as a measure to avoid conflict with a fisherman on a lake or
stream unknowingly violating game laws by straying into another state.
Like I said this applies to
most situations unless a particular lake or stream flows into a National Park
where you need a special permit. I have no particular problem with special
permits, since the revenue goes toward wildlife and habitat conservation and
the cost is generally not too steep considering the spectacular views one can
witness, not to mention fish to catch or game to harvest.
In June of 1999, I was in
Big Sky fly fishing and purchased my Montana Sportsman’s license, listened to
the locals talk about the fishing conditions and got the general lay of the
land including a topographic map of the area, which I proceeded to mark a red
line at the Montana/Wyoming border of the rivers I intended to fish, as a method
of not straying into Wyoming let alone Yellowstone.
My day began quite early as
I donned my warm clothes, hip waders, fishing vest and small backpack with
supplies and food for my day on the water. I must have been fishing for about
four hours, making my way down stream not having too much luck, but enjoying
the day and scenery none-the-less, when I spotted a game warden on the right
bank approximately 200 yards down stream. I figured that as I worked my way
down toward his location he would want me to come to the shore so he could
check my license and catch (if I had any). Well he actually came out to see me,
which I thought was pretty cool for him to not disturb my fishing more than needed.
We exchanged the
pleasantries as well as answering if I had any luck, which I indicated to the
negative and asked if he would like to see my license and I.D., which he did. I
handed him my Montana sportsman’s license and military I.D. to which he mentioned
he was retired Army, I said I am Air Force and thanked him for his service.
He asked me do I know
exactly know where I am? To which I took out my topographic map and showed him
I/we were approximately ¼ mile north of the red line indicating the Montana/Wyoming
border. The warden took my map and studied it a bit, informing me I was a bit
farther down river than I thought, and was actually ¼ mile into the great state
of Wyoming and he then welcomed me to Yellowstone Park.
I must have looked
flabbergasted when he told me, as I proceeded to restudy the map figuring how I
got so far down stream, unaware of my true location. I let him know that I
pride myself on knowing the game laws of the areas I hunt and fish and that I have
unknowingly strayed into Yellowstone.
I believe to this day he
took pity on me for several reasons, one, we were both brothers by virtue of
our military association and I had taken great steps to avoid the circumstance
I have now found myself in. He informed me he was not going to cite me and In-fact
he offered me a ride upstream to my vehicle, which I graciously accepted.
During the ride we talked about our times and places we both were stationed in
the military. I decided to let him know I was going to purchase a Yellowstone
permit as a way of assuring my compliance with the local game laws and as a way
of repaying a courtesy extended. Like I said… I always give back. Not to
mention the savings from the rather steep fines he could have levied against me
that day.
I use this as an example
when teaching our daughter about good sportsman like conduct and to always do
the right thing… or at least give it
your best effort, even when nobody is looking.
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