In Big Sky country, a pandemic-era fly-fishing getaway

Usually on a trip like this, I would spend more than a few hours in neighborhood pubs and bars — or in this case, saloons. But not this time.

I fished for 12 of my 17 days, putting more than 2,800 miles on my rental car, many of them rattling down gravel, potholed, backcountry roads. The deeper in you go, the farther upstream you get and the less crowded it is. One day, my only companions were a pair of soaring bald eagles. On another, two moose and a herd of cows.

On the open road it was easy to pretend life was back to normal.