Sasquatch Seducer

From El Paso to the CDT: A Hairy Start

Picture this: a towering, fur-covered figure striding out of El Paso, where the sun’s so hot it could fry a jalapeño on the sidewalk. Roderick Lee Sasquatch wasn’t your average Texan. While most folks in El Paso were grilling carne asada, Roderick was dreaming of crisp mountain air and the glint of trout in icy streams. “Too hot, too dry,” he grumbled, his voice like a gravelly campfire story. So, with a fly rod slung over his massive shoulder and a heart set on adventure, he pointed his furry feet northbound on the CDT, leaving behind a trail of dust and bewildered cacti.

Colorado was his first stop, and oh, what a sight! The Rockies rolled out their emerald carpet, with streams so clear you could see a trout’s bad life choices reflected in the water. But there was a problem: Colorado was crawling with “wannabe” outdoorsy types—folks in shiny new hiking boots who thought “roughing it” meant no Wi-Fi. Roderick, with his wild mane and a nose for solitude, wasn’t here for the Instagram crowd. He wanted the real deal—untamed wilderness, untangled fly lines, and fish that didn’t pose for selfies. So, he kept moving, his massive footprints marking the CDT as he chased the call of wild waters.

Wind River Range: Base Camp of a Behemoth

Roderick’s wandering paws eventually led him to the Wind River Range in Wyoming, a place so rugged it makes grizzly bears look like they’re on a spa day. Here, in the heart of the wilderness, Roderick found his Shangri-La. He set up a base camp that was less “tent” and more “Sasquatch palace”—think a cozy nook of moss-covered rocks, a fire pit for roasting marshmallows (because even Sasquatches have a sweet tooth), and a stream so trout-packed it practically begged to be fished. This was home, a launchpad for Roderick’s grand fly-fishing odyssey.

From his Wind River hideout, Roderick roamed like a furry nomad, casting lines into lakes and streams that sparkled like liquid diamonds. The CDT was his highway, and every ripple in the water was a roadside diner serving up trout, steelhead, and the occasional brown trout with an attitude. But Roderick wasn’t just fishing for dinner—he was chasing something bigger: the perfect cast, the perfect fish, the perfect vibe. And the Wind River Range? It was the perfect base for a Sasquatch with a plan.

North to the Absaroka-Beartooth Wilderness

With his base camp sorted, Roderick’s wanderlust kicked into high gear. He trekked north, his massive frame weaving through the Absaroka-Beartooth Wilderness like a thread through a needle. This place was wilder than a barrel of feral cats, with jagged peaks and lakes so hidden you’d need a treasure map to find them. Roderick, being the crafty Sasquatch he was, sniffed out one such gem—a secluded lake that shimmered like it was hiding secrets. “This,” he growled, “is home number two.”

His Absaroka-Beartooth hideaway was a masterpiece of Sasquatch engineering. Tucked between boulders and pines, it was part fishing shack, part furry fortress. From here, Roderick cast his line into waters teeming with trout, their silver bodies darting like tiny comets. But he didn’t stop there. Oh no, Roderick was a Sasquatch on a mission, and his mission was to fish every worthy stream from Wyoming to the Canadian border.

Into Canada: Steelhead Dreams in the Thompson Drainage

Roderick’s next stop was the Thompson Drainage in British Columbia, where the rivers run so wild they could star in their own action movie. Steelhead were the prize here—fish so strong they could probably bench press a canoe. Roderick, with his trusty fly rod and a grin as wide as a canyon, waded into the fray. His casts were poetry, each loop of line a stanza in the epic poem of Sasquatch fly-fishing. The steelhead didn’t stand a chance.

British Columbia’s waters were cold and fierce, just the way Roderick liked it. He’d stand knee-deep (well, Sasquatch-knee-deep, which is basically human-waist-deep) in the Thompson, flicking his rod with the precision of a furry ninja. The fish fought hard, but Roderick fought smarter, landing steelhead that would make any angler weep with envy. And all the while, he was dreaming up something special—a fly that could conquer any stream, any fish, anywhere.

South to the Cascades and Beyond

Never one to stay still, Roderick wandered south through the North Cascades National Park, where the mountains are so dramatic they could star in a Hollywood blockbuster. The streams here were like liquid adrenaline, and Roderick fished them with a gusto that only a Sasquatch could muster. From the Cascades, he meandered to the Hoh River, where steelhead swam with the swagger of rock stars. Roderick’s rod danced, his line sang, and the fish? They just kept coming.

His journey didn’t stop there. Roderick hit the Owyhee River, then powered through Idaho’s Middle Fork of the Salmon, a river so wild it could give a rodeo bull a run for its money. Finally, he closed out his epic loop in the North Clearwater Drainage, fishing for trout and steelhead with a grin that said, “I’m living the dream, and you’re not.” By the time he circled back to his Absaroka-Beartooth hideaway, Roderick was a changed Sasquatch. He’d seen rivers, lakes, and streams that would make a poet cry, and he’d learned something profound: he only needed one fly.

The Birth of the Sasquatch Seducer

Back at his hidden lake home, Roderick sat by the water, his furry brow furrowed in thought. He’d fished with every fly in his arsenal, from flashy streamers to delicate dry flies, but none felt quite right. They were either too fussy or not fussy enough. “I need a fly,” he muttered, “that’s as wild as me.” And so, under the starlit Montana sky, the Sasquatch Seducer was born.

This wasn’t just any fly—it was a masterpiece of fish-seducing genius. Roderick tied it with a marabou and Krystal Flash tail that shimmered like a disco ball in a trout’s dreams. The body was a brush of copper wire, sturdy yet sleek, wrapped with Fluorescent Sasquatch Olive Monster Bush Fur—because if you’re gonna go big, you go Sasquatch big. A long, webby olive saddle hackle was wrapped spey-style on the front third of the hook, giving it that extra swagger. And the pièce de résistance? A bead head, specifically a Missouri River Garnet from American Bar, which Roderick had stumbled upon while swinging streamers for brown trout. That garnet bead wasn’t just shiny—it was magical.

The Sasquatch Seducer was a fly that could make fish swoon. Trout, steelhead, even the occasional grumpy brown trout couldn’t resist its charm. Roderick tested it in his hidden lake, and the results were immediate: fish were practically leaping out of the water to get a taste. “That’s the one,” Roderick growled, his voice echoing through the pines. From that day forward, the Sasquatch Seducer was his go-to, his ride-or-die, his furry heart’s delight.

The Legend Lives On

Roderick Lee Sasquatch is still out there, somewhere along the CDT, casting his line into waters wild and free. His base camps in the Wind River Range and Absaroka-Beartooth Wilderness are the stuff of legend, hidden from all but the most intrepid adventurers. His journey—from El Paso’s deserts to Canada’s steelhead rivers—is a testament to the call of the wild and the pull of a good fishing spot.

And the Sasquatch Seducer? It’s more than a fly—it’s a symbol of Roderick’s untamed spirit, a lure that says, “Go big, go wild, go fish.” Anglers across the CDT whisper its name, tying their own versions in hopes of catching a fraction of Roderick’s magic. So, the next time you’re wading a stream and feel a pair of furry eyes watching from the trees, don’t be afraid. It’s just Roderick Lee Sasquatch, the fly-fisher like no other, casting his Sasquatch Seducer and living the dream.