MONTANA STATE FISH AND GAME COMMISSION 



49 



themselves amidst the I'ocks and rills where highways reach, have made some 

 progress too. No longer are they weak-minded enough to mistake a piece of 

 feather duster tied with a raveling from grandpaw's red flannels for a de- 

 lectable, delovely fillet of grass-hopper. 



The poor fish of today are educated, which makes matching wits with 

 them much more interesting. So from a sporting point of view the fishing is 

 better than ever. You don't hear about record catches any more because the 

 trout are wiser and the old timers find it easier to wail about the highways 

 mining the fishing than to improve their technique to the point of becoming 

 real fishermen. Every community has a few experts who can and do play 

 around the so-called fished-out streams with amazing results. But these fel- 

 lows don't do much bragging and advertising. Modern highways and 



transportation have made 

 the beauty, glory and 

 tonic of the stream banks 

 and forest glades practi- 

 cal for the entire family. 

 Mother may be the kind 

 who doesn't like ants in 

 her pants and potato sal- 

 ad, but most women, if 

 they get a chance to go 

 with any degree of com- 

 fort, enjoy the outdoors 

 as much as the men. As 

 for the kids, what could 

 be sweeter? No, this 

 squawk that emanates 

 from some selfish, witless 

 old fogey to the effect 

 that cars and highways 

 have ruined the outdoors 

 is short-sighted and un- 

 reasoning bunk. 



There remain in Mon- 

 tana vast primitive areas 

 where roads will never be 

 built. You travel through 

 them by saddle horse or 

 by hand. For the boys 

 who feel an annual, ata- 

 vistic urge for back coun- 

 try, there she lies, thous- 

 "^ ands of acres of moun- 



tains and forests, stream-lined with rivers and creeks plumb full of game but 

 uneducated trout. Those are the places where the real sportsmen use barb- 

 less hooks. It takes a little time and efforts to reach these places. The high- 

 ways take you to the border land where the trails begin. But let me tell you 

 something, — in spite of all the sobbing from "the good old days" advocates, the 

 trails are not congested with any of their ilk. 



