August

My car made it safely, without incident, down the Skalkaho Pass and into Hamilton. Satisfied, I stopped in Hamilton, at the first fly shop I came across. It had only been open for three or four weeks, the owners, a couple with a child of three or four years, were still unpacking gear.

They were incredibly friendly and approachable, and I talked with them at good length about fishing, fly shops, and other business. I sincerely hope they do very well, they were so absolutely nice and genuine. At one point I even thought about asking about a guiding job, a la A Good Life Wasted figuring I could put at least someone onto fish on the Bitterroot. I didn’t though, and was soon off on my way.

I needed an adapter for my car, to power the digital camera battery and some of the other toys I had to play with. Initially I just wanted to pop into a local Radio Shack and get all I required, but it was soon apparent this was not possible, and a trip to Missoula was necessary. No matter, I figured this would fulfill the second leg of my somewhat-abortive brewery tour, being able to hit the Bayern and Great Northern Breweries in Missoula, as well as check out Blacksmith Brewery in Stevensville and Bitterroot Brewery back in Hamilton.

So I headed north, to Missoula, and stopped in at the Mall to get a power converter. That done, I wandered around downtown until the breweries opened, then made my way to the Bayern Brewery. It was fun, although the server was a bit cold (perhaps because I was obviously a smelly tourist, and alone), although I got a great sample of their brew. From there I went up to the Great Northern Brewery and had a couple samples, bought a few trinkets, and was on my way to Stevensville.



I got to Blacksmith Brewery a bit before last call, and had about the same trouble finding it as finding all the other breweries I’d tried to locate in Montana. The important part was that I succeeded, and I did have a couple delicious beers there, as well as taking home a growler.





From there I made it to Hamilton and the Bitterroot Brewery, where the delightful pink-haired bartender informed me it was too late to grab a beer, but that she could fill growlers and bottles for me. I got a growler of Brown ale, and two bottles, one of the Sawtooth Ale and one of the Porter, then continued on south.

I intended to make it to the West Fork of the Bitterroot River, but fell short and wound up grabbing a motel room in Sula. It was the happiest I’ve ever been to see a warm, dry, place, and the owners, were unbelievably nice. If you’re in the area, I highly recommend it. They were welcoming and friendly. I drank a bottle, tied some flies, watched television, and crashed.