Saturday morning Floyd, his trusty sidekick Dakota, and I headed into the back country for a camping and fly fishing trip. With a couple moose sightings on the way up, we then headed to a remote lake at about 10,800 feet that is off the beaten path. Camp was set up on a level and forested bluff overlooking the lake and it was time to fish! Brook trout riseforms pockmarked the surface in a consistent fashion and we spent the evening working the lake in peaceful solitude. Trout were rising to my beetle pattern preferring it over the trailing mayfly. Eventually the beetle was shredded and we both thought dinner sounded like a good plan. I fired up the Jetboil for a little dehydrated sustenance and then in the approaching evening dusk threw a black bugger to some more consistent action. A nice campfire and some Old Chub ales to end the night and we were off to slumber for more trout to come on Sunday. After listening to coyote howls and a few elk bugles throughout the night and early morning, we got up and had breakfast then worked the water some more with fish falling for buggers early on and then moving to nice big hoppers on the surface. Midday arrive and we packed up and headed to two more lakes that were on the way out to the trailhead. Both proved fruitful with additional brookies pounding the hoppers and the final lake producing some of the largest trout of the trip. After arriving back at the car we realized how lucky we were to be able to spend the night in the back country in total seclusion. The storm clouds and rain were just starting to form as we headed back down the highway to town... perfect timing.