Me and some buddies went on an extended fishing trip and found a Snake River tributary we’d never fished. We made arrangements with a shuttle driver and dropped off the truck near the takeout location.
We’ve never seen the takeout, the put-in or any of the river for that matter. But it was a mellow float, so we felt confident.
We get on the water and we’re catching fish left and right – mostly cutthroats, mostly on drys. The shuttle driver had said to takeout at the metal bridge. We see a bridge, but it’s not all metal. But we thought this must be it. We get out and see some guys working on a house up the road. I ask them if this is the takeout, and they say “No, you gotta go past a couple more bridges.” So we get back in the boat and keep fishing.
Then the fishing turned on. We’re bringing in fish on every cast when I realize we’re at the end of the river. We go ashore and climb up the canyon we’re in. We missed the takeout.
We get hold of the shuttle driver and convince him to pick us up. We go back to the truck, return to the raft, and bushwhack to go back down the canyon. We take the raft apart and carry it up piece by piece. It takes an hour and a half. But that last hour of fishing was epic. We weighed the pros and cons of missing the takeout, and we decide that yeah, it was worth it but no, we wouldn’t do it again. Not on purpose, anyway.
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