So this is happening...

Fish on a higher plane.

Available May 2017.

(I'm writing a book.)

Montana's high country is the final frontier of the last best place, which is why Wilderness Adventures Press is bringing out this all-new guide to flyfishing the mountain lakes of southwest Montana.
     These pristine fisheries have incredible fishing, from different strains of wild 5-pound cutthroat to golden trout to the elusive arctic grayling. Mix in the occasional trophy brookie and all the 12-inch cutts and rainbows you care to catch and... just trust me, you want to know.
     Author Joshua Bergan has spent innumerable summer days exploring and writing about these highland gems. From fish and bugs to water conditions, hiking difficulty and effective flies, this book fills you in.
     A selection of drive-to lakes, short(ish) hikes, and several-mile overnight treks are laid out in full detail with GPS coordinates. Detailed driving directions get you to the trailhead and Wilderness Adventures Press' detailed best-in-class maps take it from there.
    This comprehensive first edition covers well over 100 lakes from the Absarokas to the Idaho border, including the Absaroka Mountains, Gallatin Range, Madison Range, Gravelly Range, Tobacco Roots, Pioneer Mountains, Beaverhead Mountains, and other smaller ranges in between.
     Mountain lake fishing isn't for everyone, which is why it should be for you. Familiarize yourself.

Softcover, 6x9 inches
250+ pages, 50 maps
B&W, 80+ photos
ISBN: 978-1-940239-12-5
UPC: 8-09206-39125-3
Retail Price: $29.95
Case Quantity: 16
Available May 2017

Cutts to the Core (or gill rakers, I guess)

Montana has two magnificent subspecies of cutthroat trout: Westslope and Yellowstone. Which would you rather have in the net?

Click here to learn more about where these were caught. 

The subtle differences:

• They are very difficult to tell apart based on appearance (without counting gill rakers*). I've found a fair number of mountain lakes where you'll find both, and there's no real way to know which is which. But if you insist on trying, Yellowstones tend be a bit more bronze, while westslopes are more often chrome-ish, and tend toward pink-ish purple bellies. But to be clear, either can have any of these characteristics (other than the gill rakers thing). 
• Yellowstones are likely the most storied of all subspecies of cutthroats. They are much easier to find information about than westslopes. 
• Westslope cutts own the largest native range of all the cutthroats, stretching from the Gallatin Crest south of Bozeman well into Oregon and British Columbia. The range of Yellowstone cutts is only the Yellowstone River drainage (unless you count those screwy "Yellowstone" cutts native to the South Fork of the Snake River - don't get me started...**)
• Yellowstone cutts are known to have a faster growth rate than westslopes. Which makes trophy Yellowstones more common, but trophy westslopes more prized. A true trophy Yellowstone cutt, in my opinion, is 25 inches or more and are almost exclusively found in and around Yellowstone Lake. A trophy westslope, however, could be a fat 20 incher. 

But really, why have a preference? Each one is a privilege, inspires awe and is a reminder why we do what we do. 

*Yellowstone cutts native to Yellowstone Lake have 20 to 22 gill rakers on their anterior sides, while Westslopes only have 18 or 19 (whatever that means). But you weird-ass gill raker counters probably already knew that.
**You got me started. Apparently, Snake River fine-spotted cutthroat trout are genetically identical to Yellowstone cutts, but the cutts in the South Fork of the Snake River (which is actually the mainstem of the Snake River, not a headwater tributary or anything) have bolder spots than other Snake River fine-spotted cutts - spots more like Yellowstones. And since they are genetically identical, they just call them native Yellowstone cutthroat. In the Snake River. And Henry's Fork of the Snake River. And elsewhere in the Snake River drainage...
Not only that, but Clearwater and Salmon Rivers in the Snake drainage, randomly have native westslopes. Those rivers should either hold Yellowstones (due to the above anomaly) or Snake River cutts. It's not a perfect system.

Ants, ants, Buggers, ants, twirl and repeat

Last year, our first dedicated to the high country, we struggled. We found fishless lakes, were stymied by savvy cutthroat, and were left feeling a bit disenchanted.

Whey duh f*^k are the trout?

But such struggles are often the prerequisites of fishing glory. This summer has been better, and maybe we're figuring some stuff out. Or it's just been a better summer in the high country.

Our season started in late May, when we happened onto a spot we came to know as the aquarium. This was not a lake I had any expectations for, but we caught several 16- to 18-inch cutthroat trout, under a  dense canopy of pine trees, that were eager to run down a big pink scud. Stir in a few nice-sized grayling and it was easy to note that this felt a bit like a harbinger.

I see that smile...

Among the things we've figured out, or at least become confident of:

• Ants. Ants. Ants. Ants. Ants. Ants. Bloom's Parachute Flying Ant. Ants. Hoppers. Beetles. Ants. Rubber-legged ants. Scuds. Ants.
• Get flarping wacky. Use that old chewed-up, lead-wrap-showing hackle-dangling Bugger. Strip a foam hopper on sinking line. Jig flies. (More on these techniques coming in the January-February issue of American Angler.)
• If at first you don't succeed... hike around the lake. Wait. These fish and fisheries are as moody as they come. Multi-mile scrambles on top of Jeep-trail journeys rarely allow for much time, but do your best. 
• Use ants on the end of your leader or tippet, which should be connected to your fly line. Tie them on and cast them. Ants. Just so we're clear. 
• The adventure is worth the effort. The post-hike beer-endorphin cocktail is also nice.

It wasn't all lifestyles of the fishy and fjellvant, though. This past weekend I hit six lakes in one afternoon, while waking and falling asleep in my own bed. It felt a bit like Double Dare's obstacle course where I got to a lake and whacked a button and then ran on to the next. At those six lakes, I caught an entire fish. It turns out that these lakes, from 8,200 feet to 9,200 feet in the Pioneer Mountains, are still actively used for irrigation and get terribly de-watered by the end of summer.

Yeah but it was a good fish. 

As the season winds down and we prepare for a trip to the Adirondacks, I feel content with our efforts. And we still have hope for a 4-pound 7,500-foot-high cutt and maybe a 17-inch brookie before the trick-or-treaters' knock, signaling the forming ice...

The Last Free River

Some friends in Livingston are making a beautiful film about a special place: the Yellowstone River. 

From their website: "Government agencies were scheduled to begin construction of a $60,000,000 dollar dam on the Yellowstone River, the last major free flowing river in the lower 48 United States. The funds for the dam were originally meant to help an endangered species, the Pallid sturgeon. However, leading scientists believe that the dam may cause the extinction of this ancient species who has lived on earth since the time of the dinosaurs.
"Hearing of the proposal, a seasoned river runner set out to learn more about the project and float down the entire free flowing Yellowstone River for the last time. It is almost too late but with your help we still have a chance to save the Yellowstone and an endangered species."

Below are some clips: 





Visit http://www.thelastfreeriver.com/ to support this great project!

Montana Mountain Range Quiz

I imagine that growing up in New England, you learn the geography of the states. But here in Montana, things move a little slower...  And we learn the mountain ranges. Or try to.

I've been told that Montana's mountains are harder to identify by appearance (than other states' mountains) as they are packed together and layered on top of each other. For example, scanning the horizon from Twin Bridges, you might be seeing the Tobacco Roots, Gravellies, Snowcrests, Rubies, Tendoys, Beaverheads, Highlands and/or Pioneers. It's hard to know where one ends and another begins, or which range that is back over there. From Belgrade, we can see the Bridgers, Absarokas, Gallatins, Madisons, Tobacco Roots and Big Belts.

There is an app called Peak Finder that helps identify specific peaks, but you have to be pretty close for it to work well.

So how well do you know Montana's ranges? Quiz yourself based on the map below (link to answers is below). I'm still studying...

Click here for answers.

The Bison

We gone-done it. We bought a 25-year-old recreational vehicle that hemorrhaged water, has a hole in the driver's door, occasionally responds to the steering wheel, has a turning radius the size of a roundabout, and it's pocked with hail damage. And dammit, we're psyched. 

The Bison has a big ol' diesel engine, off-road tires, ground clearance and four-wheel drive. Its cooks, warms, cools, chills food, handles poo, showers us, provides drinking water, and rests us. It's bear safe, lightning safe, energy independent (soon) and the stereo jay-ums. And now that its problems have been remedied, it's where you'll find us.

We had a chance to try it out this past weekend and it was everything we'd hoped. A beautiful omen, in the form of a big-eyed, kype-jawed golden trout, gave us reassurance that we're moving in the right direction. 

Kudos to my wife Elizabeth for landing this incredible golden trout. 

Rambling soon, through public lands near you...

Ice-out Part II: Damn

If you've read much on fishing mountain lakes, particularly by Gary Lafontaine, you probably understand the opportunity that fishing a lake at ice out can be. So we tried to hit a big-cutthroat lake in the Tobacco Roots at that time this past weekend, but only found a lot of white.
I made my best guess for this 8,900-foot lake based on lower elevation lakes and the warm spring. So close...

Damn.

Maybe 2 percent of the lake was ice free, and it was feasible that a fish could cruise by in those shallows sections. I dragged a Bugger off the edge for maybe 15 casts, but we were behind schedule and success didn't seem eminent, nor did a vast break-up of ice that afternoon.

Worth a try? 

Fortunately, we weren't too worried about catching. Hiking uphill over and through snow (for at least the last couple miles) and likely being the first people there since fall had made it a memorable feat. We gained a better sense for mountain ice-outs, and had gotten our fish-fix the prior weekend.

Shamefully gratuitous.

Maybe next week...

Montana mountain-lake ice-out schedules

May 14, 2010 at Hebgen Lake.

Of the insights gained from doing research on mountain-lake fisheries, the ice-out and ice-up times are among the most valuable. No angler wants to to hike miles uphill, possibly through snow, to an iced-over lake. The risk makes hitting a mountain lake at the lustful ice-out days a task that many won't try.

Ice-out depends on a number of factors; it's not quite as simple as ice peeling off uniformly as you go up. The factors include recent weather, the prior winter's weather and snowpack, exposure to the sun, the amount of water flowing through via inlets and outlets, and of course the lake's elevation. For example, note in the list below how Hebgen Lake at about 6,500 feet actually tends to ice-out two or three weeks before nearby Cliff and Wade Lakes, which are at about 6,250 feet. My guess is that this is due to the fact that Hebgen has a good push of water flowing through via the Madison River, while Cliff and Wade have small insignificant tributaries and outflows (both get adequate sunlight and would have had similar weather).

One way to get a rough idea if the mountain lake you have in mind might have iced-out is to drive to a lake like Hebgen Lake or Hyalite Reservoir. It will at least give you an idea about other lakes at that elevation, and you can estimate uphill from there. Very approximately, ice out ascends about 5,000 feet every couple of weeks.

May 20, 2008 at Hyalite Reservoir.

Expect earlier ice-outs and later ice-ups as climate change continues, but the following is what I have learned.

From earliest to latest: 

• Hebgen Lake (about 6,500 feet): End of April-Early May
• Cliff and Wade Lakes (about 6,250 feet): Mid-May*
• Hyalite Reservoir (about 6,700 feet): Mid-late May
• Yellowstone Lake (about 7,800 feet): May 20-ish.
• Pioneer Mountains at 7,500 feet: June 1
• Pioneer Mountains at 8,000 feet: June 10
• Bell Lake (about 8,750 feet, Tobacco Roots): Mid-June
• Pioneer Mountains at 8,500: June 20
• Gneiss Lake (9,554 feet, Tobacco Roots): July 1
• Pioneer Mountains at 9,000 feet: July 1
• Twin Lakes (about 8,200 feet, North Meadow Creek in the Tobacco Roots): Early-mid July, though this might be an anomaly
• Pioneer Mountains at 9,200 feet: July 10

Of course this schedule is about as predictable as the annual salmonfly hatches, but it's something. Hike with slightly more confidence!

*Heard a report this year of Wade Lake being ice-free on May 3.

Socializing with skwalas at Stevensville

We've had some pretty pleasant days on the Bitterroot River during skwala season, the best coming with an outfitter who was helping me write an article for Northwest Fly Fishing magazine. That Tuesday in late March of 2013 was a total romp, complete with long, sparkling westslopes and dry flies.

A male specimen, as Bitterroot legend John Foust explained to Liz while waiting at the takeout. 

But I, like many, look forward to seeing the crowd of trailers at the put-in about as much as I look forward to watching the Yankees trounce the Twins. I'll be over it as soon as we catch a trout, but until then, I'll need to stew a bit.

This year, we decided to avoid the rush, but somehow at 10am on Saturday April 2nd, 2016 under sunny skies and a 70-degree forecast, we were the first boat at Darby Bridge. Second, it turned out - one boat was below our view in the water and had already shuttled their trailer. As we wadered up, a third arrived. But we quickly learned that it isn't the sheer numbers that cause the grief.

Our trip was planned around visiting an old friend who is renting an cabin on gorgeous Kootenai Creek, a Bitterroot tributary in Stevensville. She grew up an outdoorswoman in Butte, but is just now getting adept with flies. And she gets it.

Of course the three boats launched roughly simultaneously, so we hustled to try to get separated. But as soon as we stopped to let a boat get ahead, that boat would stop behind us. And as soon as we decided to row down to get ahead, a boat would push off in front of us. Three boats on a seven-mile stretch, all within two bends (later deemed the "two-girl-one-guy-green-raft-with-a-dog-who-chases-waterfowl float" or the 372 float). Eventually we stopped for a long lunch and lost them, but other boats had showed up by then. The Bitterroot's "social" anglers.

Fly-shop advice was to use low-profile, skinny skwala patterns, or something the trout hadn't already seen. We thought we'd do the latter by fishing Brindle 'Chutes, a local pattern that matches March browns. But there was nary a March brown on our stretch, so we thought "terrestrial X skwala hybrid", and fished a Turk's Tarantula. We didn't catch tons, but we caught some good ones, all on dries.

Bitterroot bass. 

I usually chuckle when my buddies rant about the "jack-offs" who've beaten us to the river, or the "clowns" who dare share our five-mile stretch of river. But Saturday, I was ranting. Bunch of oblivious, clingy, communal-fishing rubes. It does not take a village ...

But all of this said, we'll be back to visit Mary and the Bitterroot socialites soon.

The Outcast PAC 1300 - a perfect boat for the Bitterroot. 

Big, dark rocks: Backcountry bearanoia

I spent some time hiking and fishing in grizzly-bear backcountry this past summer and experienced all the magic of co-exisiting with these grandiose creatures, short of an encounter.
Heart jumping at every snapping twig, blood draining when you might've glanced one, every big dark rock, one hand on the pepper spray, the awe of being mid-food-chain, knowing the odds are low but real, the camaraderie of hiking partners, of hoping to avoid them while hoping to see one, that one could be 10 feet or 10 miles away, of being miles from from your car, which is miles from health care.
And I didn't even see a black bear, all summer long.
Don't be afraid to venture into griz country, at least for a few days. It's completely exhilarating, despite the nerves.

The only wild grizzly I've seen in person. From a car in Yellowstone National Park's Hayden Valley.

Grizzly-bear book recommendations:

• The Grizzly Years, by Doug Peacock
• Mark of the Grizzly, by Scott McMillion
• The Lost Grizzlies, by Rick Bass