During the day, when I would take brake at my parked Jeep for a shot of Joe or something, people would drive buy giving me the stare of disgust. I could see their lips mumble something like, “that idiot Texan… can’t he read the signs?” I was in no way interested in setting them strait. I wanted the entire state on New Mexico as well as the whole wide world to think the park was completely closed and may never open again.

That evening, back at my room, the harsh realities of that summer were vivid. I sat on my front porch and watched the helicopters and other large aircraft drop loads of water on the forest fires that were scattered along the mountainside. Huge walls of smoke draped the horizon. I couldn’t help but become sorrowed because of the destruction that was unfolding before my eyes. When it was too dark to see, I retired to the confines of my room.

Later that night, as I lay packed tight in my cozy little bed, I found it difficult to sleep. As my mind drifted from the fires outside and danced with thoughts of my day of fishing, I giggled as I felt myself swelling with contentment. My angling experience kept running through my mind. I couldn’t help but wonder what the next day would bring. Would my fly fishing solitude come to an end? Guess what… it didn’t.

I hit the park early the next morning to be faced with the very same scenario. The signs and barricades were still in place and no one was in sight. Using the same flies and techniques I enjoyed equal success as I had the day before. It wasn’t until late that afternoon did I see the only other car in the park. The word was finally out. By then, it was OK. I enjoyed a few hours of good fishing the next morning before heading back to Tyler.

Is there a moral here? I don’t know. It was defiantly a fishing trip that I will never forget. In retrospect, however, it seems really unfortunate that my memorable fishing trip was at the expense of so much. The southwest lost an awful lot of good forest and helpless wildlife during that horrible time. Homes were gone and lively hoods were destroyed. I suppose the saying remains true, “someone’s good fortune is usually at someone else’s expense.”