We are sad to report the BSRB family recently lost one of our own. Scott Fraser (co-founder) passed away on November 18th, 2020 after an 18 month long battle with esophageal cancer.
Scott was a lot of things to me. A coworker, my boss twice, my business partner, my fishing and hunting buddy, but most importantly he was my friend. A better friend than most. He always made the time to listen to me, understand my problems, or humor my crazy ideas. I miss so many things about him, but the lack of his true and honest friendship has left a hole in my heart. He was the best of the best.
Scott and I had some amazing adventures over the years, and a few really special ones in the last year of his life. Scott was an amazing storyteller, so in his honor, I’m going to do my best to share with you a piece of our greatest adventure.
Through the generosity of some very kind people, Scott and a few others got to spend time at the Firehole Ranch this August. With a few days of fishing already in the books, I arrived at the ranch on the last day. The report was they had been catching a decent number of fish, but mostly smalls. The night before I arrived, the guide asked Scott what he wanted to do on the last day. He explained his friend Javan was coming and suggested we try a different area where we could target some big fish. Scott knew me so well. The guide agreed and took us to a section of the lower Henry’s Fork. He explained that the three mile stretch of river is known to hold some bigger fish, but they are selective, and we might only get the opportunity to catch one or two big ones that day.
Shortly after we launched the boat, Scott spotted a large fish rising up against a weeded bank. The guide anchored the boat and quietly said, “That’s the one.” Scott casted a few times and eventually got the flies in just in the right section of the riffle. The fish took it! And it was a beast!! I think we were all surprised. Maybe too surprised, because after a short fight the fish got off. There was a collective sigh of disappointment. Maybe that was the one big fish for the day.
But what happened next was truly unworldly. In the next 2.9 miles of river, Scott and I landed 18 browns and rainbows, all over 17 inches. There wasn’t just one big fish in the river that day. There were as many as we could possibly catch. Something special was happening. This was the day Scott and I had been dreaming of our entire lives, but still somehow, better than we could have ever imagined. As we approached the takeout, I could tell the guide was calculating the logistics and he said, “Boys, that was incredible. I think we have just enough time, let’s do it again!” In record time we helped the guide load the boat and ate as much of our lunch as we could in the short drive back to the top. And you know what, the second float was just as good.
By the end of the day, we had landed more huge trout than humanly possible, sometimes two at a time, and at one-point Scott hooked a small one only for it to be replaced by a bigger one halfway through the fight. Unworldly.
As we drove back over Reynolds Pass with the Madison Range glowing in the warm evening light, the truck was completely silent. There were no words to describe what we had experienced that day. Nothing more needed to be said.
That would be the last time Scott and I were able to fish together in this life. It was an honor to experience that day with him. It was an honor to know him. It was an honor to be his friend. I find comfort knowing Scott is in a better place now, cancer free, and scouting the perfect section of river for our next adventure.
Shortly after the trip, Scott tied me a perfect replica of the fly that we used that day. I permanently stuck that fly in the visor of my truck to serve as a constant reminder of my dear friend. It was never meant to come out. But after seeing Scott for the last time, I was backing out of their driveway with a heavy heart, and that fly fell out of the visor and landed directly in my lap.
Scott still loves all of us. He will watch over us, guide us, and with his help, we’re going to make him so proud.
Until we see each other again, tight lines Scotty!
- Javan Druckenmiller
Obituary:
https://www.dahlcares.com/obituaries/Scott-Alan-Fraser?obId=18995977#/celebrationWall