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...

Seasonal-affect fishing

That first awe-filled gaze around the shoreline of an alpine lake is always gratifying, so when that reward ebbs, you know it's time for a break. The high lakes have all blended together in my eyes; their beauty's effect has paused.

Beauty blindness has triggered a revolution in fishing environs, for now.

This thought triggers a private reflection. 

"Yeah, but the highs are lower and days are shorter, and I need to pack the mountain trips in while I can." 

"Yeah, but the macks are migrating and the browns are moving, and the lakes all look the same." 

...woe is me, an angler's dilemma...

Then I remembered: There's a small impoundment on a small creek at about 6,100 feet. In June it's a small-brown fishery, but for some reason, come October, it's big-brown town. Does that qualify as a mountain lake? It does this weekend. 

Sunsets

Darkness descends on another Montana general fishing season. Most of the big valley-bottom mainstems have a winter whitefish or catch-and-release season, but most of the smaller waters are closed beginning December 1 to give them a break from angling pressure, since many will freeze up soon anyway, and to protect spawners. They reopen the third Saturday in May, 2014.
With this in mind, a friend and I set out to fish an old favorite, and to investigate a tributary that will be closed soon.
An early morning harbinger signaled a possible long day - Brady questioned why there was so much beer coverage in the new Drake. But he actually grabbed a copy of Draft magazine. It wasn't the last "uff da" moment that day.

And we fished. After a few hours of disappointing fishing, we cruised up to the smaller fishery. It was slightly more fruitful, offering decent-sized trout for the size of water. Mostly though, it was a day of old-fashioned investigative fishing like neither of us had done in a while, and catching up. It happens sporadically anymore.
The sun seems to set more often nowadays.
As the daylight dwindled that afternoon, we enjoyed a pale ale at Brady's vehicle before spending the rest of the evening watching slideshows from past trips. And as the sun sets on another general fishing season, this sort of inventory taking can be good for the soul.
It's appropriate that we collectively give thanks right around the end of every Montana fishing general season. Here's to more reasons for thanks.

Like gypsies

Fly anglers move, if just for a weekend at a time. Water gets stale, and the pots need stirring. Doesn't matter if the fishing was bananas yesterday, we abandon it to let it remain fruitful. Said Sir Paul in Uncle Albert Admiral Halsey: "Live a little, be a gypsy, get around; Get your feet up off the ground, live a little get around..." I agree.

Low light and low fish tallies.

One aspect of this rambling that seems rarely employed is knocking on the doors of riparian-land owners, especially by grouches like me who rarely exude friendliness (or so I'm told...grumble...). Females and octogenarians are more likely than young or mid-aged males to be trusted to trespass. And frankly, and while rare, you risk a negative encounter that might preclude you from jumping on that river legally and hiking to the desired spot, due to distrustful and watchful bourgeois or plutocratic landowners (guess who was on thesaurus.com this morning?).
We did such a thing this weekend, though it wasn't completely random. We accessed a pastoral small-water canyon that was a treat to fish, in spite of the slow fishing.

Fishy green, but weedy and shallow. 

Us: Knock, knock. Them: Who's there?
Us: Polite and stewardly anglers. Them: Make yourselves at home...

In my limited experience, most door-answerers are trusting, if only because the angler took the time to be respectful initially. Maybe we'll try more often in the future, especially if Liz is willing to bat her eyelashes ;)

See Boges fish

This guy, hard at work at the daily take your dog fishing day:

At the cutthroat lake...

and in the wilderness...

on the Yellowstone...

and at secret creek...

Researching an article...

and corralling grayling...

with Liz...

During skwalas...

Harassing the guide...

and fish...

"Do, you, want ..." 

"...to chase some ducks?"

For hoppers on the Missouri...

...or runoff on the upper Madison...

...or Christmas on the lower Madison...

Always "helping" me land.

Trudging through the hopper grass (see it?)...

...and when it's too cold to fish...

... and just barely warm enough.

Just a pup, taking to the locals....(that's him ^ ;))

Even just fly tyin'...

Before I knew how to fish ...

Spotting rises on Fairy Lake...

Hunting predators...

Sniffing out the neighborhood drakes...

Overlooking the Gibbon...

For mahogany duns....

Rain, sleet, or snow...

My dog is there.

The equinox nears

As we look forward to another hot Labor Day, we reminisce about past Labor Days when fall had started early. In 2008, for example, we slammed grayling in a local reservoir on a cool, drizzly day. We were hoping for one of those again, but we'll settle for 90s and sun.

We have relatively few options for a full-day's fishing due to the weather (the rivers get too darn hot for trout), so this reservoir is one of our only nearby options, though it's said to be the "busiest trailhead in Montana".
Last Labor Day's weather was about like this year's. We fished a gorgeous little creek near Idaho that kicked ass on the opener, but was really tough on Labor Day. Could've been the heat, the summer fishing pressure, or just a fickle day.

It's about the time that grayling start schooling near the inlets so it can be fruitful to swing a mini-San-Juan worm or bright scud at our aforementioned reservoir. But I suspect they haven't started migrating due to this heat, so maybe we'll see some cutthroat and brookies. And sit tight for another week while we wait for autumn to slowly arrive.

The Fifteen Percent

The latest US Fish and Wildlife Service participation numbers were recently released (click here for Brett French's Billings Gazette story for a Montana-centric article), and are a good source of blog fodder. Especially when they're not what you expect, and I was kind of shocked by some of the statistics.

From French's article:
"Between 2011 and 2009, (Montana) angler numbers fell 35,500... The fishing participation rate nationally is only 14 percent. The mountain states region, which includes Montana and Wyoming, can boast a 15 percent participation rate. The west north-central states, which includes the Dakotas and Minnesota, leads the nation with a 23 percent participation rate. Oddly, the watery Pacific states -- Washington, Oregon, California and Alaska -- have a participation rate of only 9 percent, the lowest in the nation."

The elbow room of 15 percent.

Fifteen percent? That includes bait and spin-fishing. I am blown away. I imagine that because I spend much time fly fishing and I associate with mostly fly fishers, that my perception has been skewed. If I'm being honest, I love that so few flog our rivers, but if I'm being considerate and in it for the industry - I gotta think that at least some of the 85 percent don't know what they're missing. I've said it before - we live in a state with thousands of miles of fishy water that the law allows us to wade through - it's an incredible thing in which only 15 percent of the residents partake. Sheer madness.

As an angler, I like this. As a member of the fly fishing industry, it's less likeable. It tells me there is a ton of opportunity for expansion of the industry via popularizing the sport, which the industry is all over - another reason I am shocked it's 15 percent. And while I love the elbow room of 15 percent participation, I also enjoy cameraderie. And the more who participate, the more innovation, the more places to buy flies and tying materials, the more magazines, books, etc. Ultimately, in my opinion, it's kind of a mixed bag.

Are you surprised by these numbers? Would you like to see more participants? Why?

'Tis better to fish alone...

...than wish you were. I have fished with no one but my dog for the past three weeks, and I can't complain.
You get first shot at the water, you choose where to go and when you want to leave, and your day won't be ruined by being out-fished (common occurrence around here).
Fishing buddies are good to have and important, but not just anyone with a fly rod will do. Most of us who fish hard are somewhat selective regarding with whom we will fish. I have an outstanding group of fishing buddies, but when they're busy - that's cool too.
One problem, however, is that you usually don't get the photos you'd like (see below). It's often the fish-on-the rocks-compared-to-the-net or -rod, or just the fish's head, or the fish in your hand as it droops away from the camera.

Incidentally, today I found a nice little spot where hoppers are working like gangbusters, far from the unending pelotons of the major rivers. I've never skittered so much - they would slash at it, then slash again. Then, they'd swipe at it, then slash at it another time or two. Eventually, you'd hook a fish. Makes me wonder if they were keyed on craneflies - I noticed a couple big ones.

God willing and the creek don't rise

Sometimes ya just gotta go get lost. A buddy and I went to see about corroborating a local fable that speaks of big cutthroat trout in a certain small, remote water.
"They're in there" was the mantra.

The tale says getting there early is key, so we went on the general season opener. With size-2 rabbit-strip cone-head sculpin fakes, we marched in and through the turbid but fishable water. After all, they're in there right?
Within a couple hours, I happened into a slow, deliberate chase and eat of a big cutt; it was quickly thrashing the end of my line. But my dog's zeal sent him splashing off the cutoff bank into the creek - sure enough, this caused a furious reaction and the fish popped off.
For Boges' sake, redemption came my (his) way. I later hooked and landed two that each went about 20 inches from the same little pocket upstream of the first hookup. The dog was in the clear, but the myth of big cutts was obliterated. We had confirmation.

This morning, the creek had gained 50 percent in flow and the radar showed rain. Seems we'd somehow pleased the fishing gods, and they rained cutthroat upon us.

Hatch browns: The year tubers came early to the lower Madison

No hatch is completely predictable, but the brachycentrus, or Mother’s Day caddis hatch, in the Bear Trap Canyon of Montana’s lower Madison River, at the time, was known to be fairly reliable.

But that year was disappointing. The water temperatures were right and the water was clear, but that one year, most fly fisherman actually spent Mother’s Day with mom.

When the bugs did eventually come off, it was certainly no blizzard, and the trout were particularly skeptical. Chalk it up to the mystery of fly fishing, I guess.

Anyhow, it was pleasant to be outside. Air temps were in range, grass was green, potatoes were drifting along the riverbed, and the sun was warm. But something seemed off.

“Why are there so many cattails on the riverbed?” I wondered to myself. “They must have raised flows enough to knock ‘em down er something.”

When I nearly turned my ankle on one, I decided to have a closer look.

Upon inspection, I realized what wasn't right – it was the potatoes. They shouldn't be there, and there were bushels of them.

Spread throughout every depression and bucket, were many Thanksgivings' worth.

You could actually see them slowly bouncing end over end along the bottom, reminiscent of the Stay Puft marshmallow man.

I recalled that the road that mimics the river had been closed a week prior, so I assume a potato truck had rolled into the river (not an impossible occurrence due to the nearby Dutch farmers and winding canyon roads).

I don’t really know why it tickled me so. There was nothing particularly funny about it.

It’s probably because there were potatoes in the river.

I returned a couple weeks later hoping to find rising trout. I found a few, but nothing terribly exciting. The potatoes were still there.

Bored with fishing, I picked up another tuber. This time, the ends of them were without skin, and they had clearly been chewed on. You'll have to take my word - I promise.

Suddenly, the lack of a Mother’s Day hatch made sense. Both predator and prey had lined up for the buffet, and, amidst this paradise, neglected to live their normal day-to-day.

The fishing sucked, but hey, I like potatoes too.

Blind guys and dry flies

Getting Guided Blind Guy from 406 productions LLC on Vimeo.

The whole time I was dying for the guy to bring a trout to hand - SPOILER ALERT - he does. None of us "seeing" fishermen and women got no excuse no more.
This is the kind of fly fishing television of which I would like to see more. No hot spotting, no hot-shot dip-shit hosts, more than just a guy reeling in fish wailing about how beautiful the fish are and how it doesn't get any better than this, etc. Compelling, interesting, funny - all around entertaining program.

Rotenone again

Even after last year's debacle at Cherry Creek (lower Madison trib - see current Montana Sporting Journal for more on that), Montana Fish Wildlife and Parks is proposing to poison three more streams this year to reintroduce Westslope cutthroat trout: Dyce Creek (tributary to Grasshopper Creek which dumps into the Beaverhead), Cherry Creek (near Melrose, tributary to the Big Hole), and McVey Creek (dumps into the Big Hole near Wisdom). The FWP press release.

An article in the Montana Standard by Nick Gevock details this.

My favorite quote from that article: "While projects to remove invasive sport fish including rainbow and brook trout are sometimes controversial, Nelson said FWP has had good success at the efforts. A prime example is a different Cherry Creek located west of Bozeman, where FWP nearly a decade ago conducted a similar poison and plant operation.
Today that creek is thriving with thousands of native cutthroats, he said."

I would actually argue that that's the worst example. The poisoning went awry, and hundreds or thousands more trout died than they intended. Read about that here. If that weren't bad enough, rotenone has been linked to Parkinson's disease, so when it spreads to sections of river that weren't intended for poisoning, we're put at risk.

For more about the dangers of rotenone, click here.

FWP is seeking comment on the poisoning projects for this summer.
 
Send your comments to Lee Nelson: leenelson@mt.gov.

I am not urging anyone one way or the other about whether or not we should restore native cutthroats - you can make that decision yourself. I am urging folks to consider commenting to FWP about finding a better way to do such a thing than using rotenone.

Montana Fly Fishing Report

January 28, 2011: Good.
February 19, 2011: Still good.

Simple flies in fishy holes leads to dunked indicators and fish to hand. Lots. It's relatively easy right now - that is why many folks around here prefer winter fishing. Yes, prefer. I'm not quite there yet, but I understand.
Take your Hare's Ears, Copper Johns Girdle Bugs, Serendipities and Woolly Buggers to any moving water that's legally open, tie them on, clip on a good amount of weight, set your indicator, find a deep, fishy hole, and pull 'em in.

The pike are coming

The official Montana fishing regulations now say that there is no limit on northern pike in the East Gallatin , Gallatin, and Madison rivers (along with the Jefferson). The fact that pike are explicitly addressed apparently means they're definitely in there. I only wish they'd have included the regulation that it's mandatory to keep them, like lake trout in Yellowstone Lake.
There has been a rumor about pike the East for a while, but as far as I knew, it was only a rumor. There has been an official record of pike in the Jefferson for many months. And when looking into other pike sightings, I found an article in the Billings Gazette that mentions them in the lower Gallatin.
This column from the Montana Sporting Journal summarizes my thoughts.
There has been a well-known pike fishery around Toston Dam on the Missouri River for a while, where ice-fishers do quite well, apparently.
From the Gazette article:
"The source of the pike was apparently some ponds in the East Gallatin River valley. Those ponds were poisoned out by FWP last year. But before the poisoning, some fish got out and moved down the drainage."
Meaning they probably found their way into the East Gallatin in high-water, and migrated up through the East, mainstem Gallatin, and the Missouri.
The time has come for catch and keep - just get them Y-bones out and they're good eatin'. 
I'm gonna be seriously mad if/when a pike is found in the Big Hole.

Darlington: the Sequel

So I'm eating a little crow, but only a little.
After getting into a bit of an on-stream debate with a landowner on southwest Montana's Darlington Ditch about whether or not I had the right to be there, I decided I'd get my ducks in a row before I sent my cease-and-desist-harassing-anglers manifesto to that ranch.
I got in contact with the marvelous Mike Vaughn, the fisheries biologist in charge of Darlington Ditch, and he came back with a plethora of interesting information.

• The dike alongside Darlington was built in 1949 by the Army Corps of Engineers – thus the linear/cornered channel that Darlington runs through (where it's not the manufactured S-curves).
• Darlington has a headgate on the Madison, which is open during irrigation season and closed in non-irrigation season, which would make you think it's an irrigation ditch, and not open to the public. But Darlington has water year round from natural springs/groundwater, which would make you think it's a natural waterway.
• However, when the dike was built, the Gallatin County Conservation district ruled that Darlington Ditch was not a perennial stream before the channel was created - what Vaughn called “jurisdictional”.
• According to Vaughn, a map from 1953 shows what it calls Darlington Ditch – a braid of the Madison near Three Forks that flows under the interstate and Frontage Road, and back into the Madison. Not the channel it exists in today.

Therefore, the stream access law does not cover Darlington Ditch. Anglers can fish it on the public stretch, obviously, or on private land with permission obviously, but not on private land without permission. 

That said, Vaughn is apparently going to try to find some old maps of that area from the Gallatin County Historical Society or something to see if it shows a stream where Darlington currently is, which would mean that it was a stream before the dike/channel was built. If he does, he could make a case that it’s not “jurisdictional”, is a perennial stream, and he could work to change the ruling so anglers can have access.

Until then, I am humbled by this finding and admit I was wrong. The gentlemen I spoke with on Darlington (previously known as the "Darlington Bitch") made an odd case though - he said I was not even on Darlington, rather I was on a stream called "Spring Creek". He could have at least had his facts straight - I'd have been more likely to believe him if he told me I was on Darlington Ditch, but it's been ruled "jurisdictional" and non-perennial, so the stream access law does not apply here.

I will also concede that there are signs there that state Darlington Ditch is "closed to angling 500 yards upstream from the northern boundary..." but the signs are cracked and falling off the posts, and since the regulations brochure says no such thing, I figured it was an old regulation and FWP neglected to remove the broken-down signs. I always defer to the current regulations brochure.(3-15-11: That is officially an old regulation. I checked my 2005 regs and it said that is the case, and I checked my 2008 copy, and it was absent. This pdf explains the removal of that regulation: http://fwpiis.mt.gov/content/getItem.aspx?id=30096 - page 14.)

So, there are some fishable "spring creeks" in Montana that are not covered by the stream access law. Who knew?

Year in Pictures

The year 2010 offered plenty of fishing. Below is a slice of the pie, in pictures.

January: Yankee Jim Canyon on the Yellowstone River.

February: Montana steelhead.

March: A windy night on the lower Madison. Fishing was good though (for almost everyone).

April: Skwalas were everywhere this spring. This one is ready to spread her seed.

 May: As the ice peels back on Hebgen Lake, the trout get hungry. Clay is pulling in another slab.

June: Trout Lake, Yellowstone National Park. No fishing in the inlet.

July: Big stoneflies in Yankee Jim result in many cutts brought to hand.

August: Accentrella hatch on the Clark Fork. There was also some crazy flying-ant hatch that day that got the trout excited.

 September: Charting lower Sixteenmile Creek. Beautiful area, but few and small fish.

October: Streamer day on the East. They still wanted the buggy Hare's Ear, though.

November: Upper Madison rainbow. The black Girdle Bug is all you'd ever need up there.

December: Darlington Ditch's S-curves. The section on which you won't get harassed.

Here's to 2011!