John Epley '21

The Teton granite slab where we were perched was smooth and baked warm by the summer heat. As the sun set over the valley below, a stillness filled the high-alpine air. We sat in silence on the cooling stone, admiring the surrounding landscape and reflecting on the day’s journey through the Teton Canyon to Alaska Basin. In an instant, the stillness of the moment was gone. From the dark waters of the Basin Lakes behind us, a cacophony of churning water and flapping fins filled our ears. My friend, Struan, grabbed his fly rod and tossed a cast out towards the center of the lake. In the dim moonlight, we could barely make out his caddisfly sitting on the water as fish rose around it.

We waited while Struan patiently stripped his line, moving his bug along the water’s surface. Shwooosh! Struan’s rod shot into the air, pulling the line taught and setting the hook in the trout’s mouth. “Strip strip strip!” someone shrieked with excitement as Struan pulled the neon fly line through his fingers. We crowded around the water’s edge, waiting for the behemoth Cutthroat to appear in the light from my headlamp. As the fish was pulled into view, it wasn’t the trophy we were hoping for, but it was a prize nonetheless.

Words by John Epley '21 Photo by Max Heffron

Pg. 16 - Reflections By Haley Hutchinson '23 Pg. 18 - Four Stories By Olivia Olson '21.5