I could tell that he was becoming preterbed by still being on the sticks, and despite my most sincere efforts to relieve him, he wouldn’t budge. I wouldn’t have given my boat to an sunburnt idiot redneck either to be completely honest. We had been on the river for over 6 hours and I couldn’t have been more delighted. Cutthroats, butter ball browns, luscious bows and even a few bulls had made their way to the net and the next couple of days could not go slow enough in my mind. This was my first pilgrimage to “Montana the Mecca” as I had coined it and I was in heaven. To him however, I was just a Tuesday. I get that, I really do, but it doesn’t stop me from getting excited anyway every time I go to a new destination and get on someone else’s boat. Newbie bliss. Out of towner ignorance. Flatlander. I dont care what the term is, I get excited.