Glenn, Frank and I leave Red Deer at about 5:15 a.m., and by 9:00 a.m., we're standing at river level in the spectacular Ram River canyon. It's pretty cool to go for an entire day and not see another fisherman, or any cattle, or cattle tracks, or horses, or horse tracks, or quads, or quad tracks. There are human footprints, but there are more elk and deer tracks. The river is low, and easily wadeable. We catch a whole bunch of cutties; Frank in particular has a nose for the fish today, and is very efficient in plucking them out in bunches. As expected, the dry fly fishing gets better as the water warms up. And as usual with cutties, pretty much any fly might work, altho some will clearly work better than others. The scenery in the canyon is otherwordly. The trout are super feisty, it seems, albeit we all notice that the fish seem somewhat skinny compared to their southern cousins... maybe they're just in better shape. Our chopper ride home arrives a bit early due to an approaching storm front with big winds and hail. On the flight back, we run smack into the storm cell, and are forced to put down in an alpine meadow to ride out the storm. It passes quickly, and our erstwhile young pilot, Bryce, checks in with base via satellite phone. We get back to Cline River by 7:15 p.m., and the drive home is uneventful other than Glenn and I being disappointed to learn that KFC in Rocky was closed, and having to settle for Chubby Chicken at the A&W instead.