A Montana Journal, ca. March 2022 Me and friend Bill lit out up to the East Fork of the Bitterroot River these few days past. We was anxious and aiming for some early season of fishing. Still there were a bit of snow on the ground and the river icy. But beautiful day, nonetheless. Last time here on this water were back in October. And memory sprung active as there was excitement aplenty on that day past, which included the presence of bear cub seen and momma bear unseen yet frighteningly heard. I will tell that truth now. Standing knee deep in mild current and casting to opposite bank against a lay down tree, I heard the sharp, loud crack of a branch breaking behind a brushy wall of willows what was impenetrable for seeing within. Glancing back and eyeballing nothing beyond that thick cover, I imagined I was about to be treated to deer or elk breaking through to shoreline for a sip of water. Continuing to cast, it then come to mind that many an assumption made by those who live in...