"Psst - don't eat that"

A buddy and I were talking about something he recently read - apparently, carp release pheromones once hooked that tell other carp of danger. I'd heard years ago about catfish "screaming" when hooked to alert others. And today, I read an article on NPR.org about birds who use a certain "cacophony" upon finding a dead companion.

From that article:  "In other words, the birds tell each other about a dead companion, and so individually and collectively the scrub-jays may learn something about predation risks. By calling in others (the cacophonous aggregations), they may be more likely to drive a predator away or to warn relatives and mates of danger." - Barbara J. King

This may tell us something about how trout evolve to be more selective - they learn that eating certain "food" can cause them to be pulled to shore, and general leeriness of suspect food becomes the m.o. Maybe they then can share what they've learned to be "hook-ful food" with others, and eventually they collectively (and slowly) learn to identify a Stimulator or Girdle Bug as a no-no, at least now and then.

Or maybe trout are just instinctual animals that cannot help but eat what appears to be food.

"AAAAHHHHH!", the trout said.

Honesty in photography

Which photo do you prefer? I'm kinda torn, as I like elements of both. The top photo is more "honest", but the bottom photo is more eye-catching and interesting, in my opinion. Is "honesty" in photos always of the utmost importance? Ever? Do you appreciate a little artistic license? Note the higher detail in the "enhanced-photo" trout's eye - is that worth the added saturation? Do you feel "lied to" or cheated if the photo has been enhanced beyond the real-life scene? Lay it on me!

Blame it on something

It felt good to be on my way while the stop lights were still blinking yellow. Morning Edition was just beginning - some browns had likely not yet returned to their daytime lies.

There was literally frost on the grass and my thermometer read 35 degrees (August 25) at the bridge on the Beaverhead River. For the first hour, my hands and feet were stinging and I questioned how long I'd make it. The high was scheduled for 80, so any minute now... Eventually the sun rose above the insulating, alpenglowing wildfire smoke and I felt better.

The fishing was mediocre - that section was more willowy than hoppery, and I like to reserve that last weekend in August for hoppers (my annual "hopper weekend"). But the water was cold and the river was vacant.

I got back to my car and opened a couple fly boxes to sun them  on the roof while I broke down (they'd gotten wet in my pockets). I made a mental note to not forget them, which apparently shifted my focus from my rods (one for streamers and one for hoppers). I didn't know it until I was parked in my Belgrade driveway - I left them. A Sage and a Winston with Orvis reels - none of it top-end, but all of it nonetheless expensive. FUG. Instead of driving back, I called Frontier Anglers in Dillon and a generous gentlemen offered to run out after work (about 30 minutes from the phone call) and grab them for me. Soon he called back - they are not there. Within three hours.



Craigslist was littered with my "Lost & Found" posts, and local shops were notified. Frankly, I'm kind of surprised they were not turned in.

Fortunately, a flyfishing company is having a sale soon, so I have a rare opportunity to upgrade to some serious gear for a serious discount - seems the fishing gods simply didn't approve of my "cheap" gear.

At times like these, I find it helps to pontificate on some lines from a favorite decades-old lyric:

Cuz the rain don't mind,
And the rain don't care,
You got to blame it on something...

If only there was a cloud in the sky.

In the middle of the great park snakes a river like no other...

These words in the post title commence chapters 1 and 50 - the first and last - of Nate Schweber's recently released book, "Fly Fishing Yellowstone National Park: An Insider's Guide to the 50 Best Places".  They reference the renowned Firehole River - one of the park's most iconic fisheries.

Schweber's book is a non-partisan (both Jimmy Carter and Dick Cheney share stories) look at special places and experiences fly fishing in Yellowstone National Park. It brings Yellowstone's fly fishing community together as if they were swapping stories over cocktails at Yellowstone Lodge on the first Monday in November. And as such, you'll probably catch wind of valuable information.

The author put in his leg-work. Fifty chapters resulting from finding the right people and interviewing them, and hiking about 300 miles to try to fish all of the included locations.

Tips on how to catch lakers, the reason westslope cutthroats are native to part of the east side of the continental divide, the real story of "Yellowstoner", and more stories and tips are sprinkled throughout, with a special emphasis on Yellowstone cutthroat conservation.

If you want a thorough where-to guide to fly fishing in Yellowstone, buy Ken Retallic's Flyfisher's Guide to Yellowstone. If you are interested in unique perspectives and intriguing stories on several fisheries along with good information, buy a second copy of Retallic's book and I'll lend you my copy of Schweber's (I work for a competing publisher) :).

Them hills.

A couple years ago I wrote in a column that I would never have the opportunity to fish for golden trout because of the difficulty in reaching them (being more of a "Chubby Chernobyl" than a "Skinny Nelson").
But since last Thanksgiving, I've straightened my diet out and put a little more effort into exercise and am down 65 pounds. Couple that with the fact that some golden-trout lakes in the Gallatin Range require a hike of only about 2.5 miles and elevation gains of only about 1,000 feet, and I thought it time to try.

The fact that I got lost at about 9,000 feet and couldn't find the trail for about a half hour after getting altitude-woozy notwithstanding, it was all pretty easy. Including the fishing.

We arrived at the first lake to find cruising and rising goldens. Already excited just to be in their presence, I picked one out and cast a Bloom's Parachute Flying Ant to within its radar. A quick twitch of the ant and the fish whipped a u-turn, swam directly for the fly and ate it. One cast. Granted, it was the only one I caught since we couldn't find fish in any other lake and the rest were quite spooky (as legends hold), but that's cool. And we made it back to the valley in time for 48 ounces at the brewery. Nice little Saturday.

Family reunions, romantic getaways, respites from the mundane, drug binges, and more

National Forest cabin log books can be infinitely intriguing – mostly funny, but also weird, whiny, and sentimental. People use these former ranger stations for family reunions, romantic getaways, respites from the mundane, drug binges, and more I'm sure. I left my mark at the Porcupine Cabin on the westslope of the Crazy Mountains sometime around 2008 in photo form. No that's not John Goodman – in fact that's me.

Here are a few comments from the “HOW WAS YOUR STAY?” column in the East Fork Guard Station log book on the East Fork of the Bitterroot River:

• Full emancipation from mental slavery
• Scount.
• Was hard to be here this time after losing our dog Max in April. He loved it here – we still enjoyed it.
• !Sickbird!
• Rats live under this cabin and want everything you have. Be wary. They will pack YOU off. Best cabin in MT...Love it long time. 
• Fire, pizza, music, beers, good luvin' (in that order)
• [Troup 94 from Darby]: It was prefick.
• Great elk camp.
• Don't eat red or yellow snow
• Music, whiskey, food...repeat.
• You know it was S-I-C-K-B-I-R-D!
• We got our cow elk, saw a moose, caught some brook trout, all without getting lost , Plenty of “GAS” left in cabin. Axe needs fixed.
• Leap year. Enjoyed our extra day. This was a gift we both needed. Read some Thoreau and Emerson – lots of snow and great friendship.
• Except for the hard time getting my mask off, it's pretty fun!
• Fish, fish, fish, eat, relax, aah! Thank you – the fire pit is awesome. Great fishing too.
• Great stay! No bugs, super facility, no phones, lots of cutthroats and 3 less pack rats!
• Great cabin, many fish and quite a ham!
• Bigfoot stole my baby
• The dogs went crazy for a very large rabbit under the porch. Had a relaxing time.
• Loved drawing on the windows that had fog. Also did Jiffy Pop.
• No phone, no TV, no work, no asshole neighbors, no nagging mother! This is heaven!
• Great cabin. Fishing was excellent.
• Beautiful. No fish though, might have found some gold or maybe it's fake.
• Great fishing, wonderful time with family.
• Still love the East Fork!
• Not fun!
• Awesome/great hiking! Fishing & togetherness! Don't tell anyone about this place! Nature always wins......perfection.
• Herd lots of owls.

Obviously you'll want to herd owls. But most of them were nice comments about what great places the national forest service cabins are. And they are. And I learned that the kids say "sickbird". 

My comment? “This cabin retains temperature really well.”

Whitefish Weekend

I slammed on my brakes. The middle Big Hole was awash with concentric rings. A trico blizzard had incited pandemonium amongst a clan of whitefish, and I was helpless. I didn't have a great trico imitation, so I fished a size-14 Rusty Spinner in front of a size-18 H&L Variant (the bugs were probably about size 22). Both worked, but the big spinner was hot.

And it was like this up, down and across this stretch.  

Later, I got a couple whitefish on hoppers (and finally got my first fluvial grayling!). After staying the night on the East Fork of the Bitterroot, I stopped at Rock Creek and Flint Creek on the way home. Not to be outdone, Rock Creek's whitefish amassed for a family portrait, waiting to spoil the next fisherman's dreams.

Click to enlarge. I counted about 35.  

High plains drifting

I'm going where the water tastes like wine.
We can jump in the water, stay drunk all the time.  - Canned Heat

This week, we visit outer Utah Creek where the ubiquitous wildlife keeps you on your toes. We saw a rattlesnake, two minks, a giant beaver, a garter snake, many deer, five moose, several trout, and a cow that momentarily looked like an African lion (it was hot).

Our herd of turtles floated 5.5 miles over 11 hours, with water temps rising from 55 to 68 throughout the day. There's nothing but bends and every bend has a riffle-tailout-hole. We fished as many as we could until the sunlight tilted, then we pushed through until a moose with a calf halted us.

We caught close to half a century of brooks, cutts, rainbows and browns up to about 18 inches. I had two (what I believe were) double hook-ups - a fish on both of my flies. Neither time did I land both, so  it could've been another fish excited by the hooked fish shadowing, but it seemed heavy. The streamer chase was red hot, but the bite was hit-&-miss. By evening, the small-fish hopper bite was steady.

The dusk bicycle shuttle up a rough gravel road was not ideal, but it's a small tax for days like that.

2 p.m.

Heat can affect people, including inspiring poetry. A haiku: 

2 p.m. 

The sun takes its toll.

Dip your thermometer; look.

Fish another day.

[I didn't have a photo that corresponds.]

Maybe search for (what will assuredly turn out to be hallucinations of) Benicio Del Toro, or patronize the nearest brewery. Switch to your Type 10 sinking line and fish an impoundment, or lay in a field and let the sunshine take you to an Arcadia where trout serve you Manhattans as you wax philosophic with them. Or keep fishing, but consider your impact on our quarry.

Proprietary Flies

What's the biggest difference between these patterns: Shanafelt's Mongo Hopper, Yeti Hopper, Grand Hopper, Morrish's Hopper, Hoppindicator, Charlie Boy, Surfboard Hopper, Triple Decker and my favorite, the Harley Hopper? Their names (except the Harley). Each fly company has their proprietary fly pattern/name(s) for the foam hopper. I get it, but it all seems kinda silly.

And of course, some do seem to work better than others, so it's nice to have a memorable name. A few years ago for me, it was Card's Wiggle Worm. When that became hard to find, I dated a few different patterns until last year, I entered a long-term relationship with Morrish's Hopper.

A destroyed Morrish's Hopper. 

Fly patterns, like songs or magazine articles, are someone's intellectual property. I first encountered this when I wrote my first column for the Montana Sporting Journal. Do I need to properly credit the creator of a fly recipe that I'm including? My answer was, just like music or books, and just to be safe, yes.

With flies, unlike music or writings, most creators probably wouldn't care. Most would appreciate the attention regardless of citation. But some might, and then you'd have a potential copyright violation on your record.

It's one more way our beloved sport is not always the simple escape it's advertised to be.

Dries, nymphs and streamers

I guess sometimes you have to settle for the mini-victories in lieu of the grandiose triumphs. 

We floated a section of the Yellowstone River downstream of Livingston Saturday and it wasn't very productive (or we weren't). But we boated fish on dries, nymphs and streamers, touched a couple nice trout and paid some dues. If there was some powerful lesson to be taken or some eloquent soundbite I could recite, it'd make trips that like seem more worthwhile. Alas, I should be able find value in the trip itself, and value the fact I can do this type of thing basically every weekend. Ultimately I do. But some big trout would be nice.

Water temperatures

If you look at the USGS streamflows for Montana, you might be a bit alarmed at the temperatures. It's been a hot topic at the brewery lately, but then I recalled that this has happened before. On July 21, 2010 (a good water year), I blogged about the same thing, only to fish through to fall with no real heat concerns...
Then this morning, the sun glowed red. Not sure what it is about wildfire smoke that causes this phenomenon, but it's eerie and ominous. The rays are barely choked, but it's there. We're seeing temps as high as 75 in some rivers, which, especially for early July, is not good.
So while I don't want to be the alarmist I was last year, we are seeing more significant signs of hoot-owl closures on the horizon. For now, be aware, and try to avoid water that is too hot.

This is from Sept. 2007. The Gallatin River beneath a red sky, at a seriously malnourished level.

Fishing the "warm"

Fishing's different in Minnesota than in Montana. It's Aluma instead of Clacka. Northern instead of pike. The smell of an outboard churning through algae. The haunting call of the loon. Eurasion milfoil & Canadian waterweed. Piscivorous fish. Perch. Bass. Panfish. Carp in which no one sees any sporting value. Blind casting. You never know for sure what's on your line. It's a nice change of pace, but I'm happy to back in trout country.

Subspecies slam?

Two subspecies of cutthroat trout are native to Montana: westslope and Yellowstone. I learned yesterday that the lake I fished has been stocked with both in the past decade and I think I caught both.

From the Montana Field Guide website:
"It can be difficult to visually distinguish westslope from other cutthroat trout subspecies, but the westslope cutthroat trout tends to have more small spots by the tail and none by the pectoral fin and the fish is more of a silvery or greenish color. The only way to be certain about identification of this subspecies is by genetic testing (AFS website 2003)."
And this:
"The Yellowstone cutthroat trout is visually distinguished ... from other cutthroat trout subspecies by its medium-large, black spots that tend to be concentrated posteriorly, and its drab brownish, yellowish, or silvery coloration, with brighter colors generally absent even in mature fish (Behnke 1992, Baxter and Stone 1995) (AFS website 2003). "
Being from the same lake with no other apparent influence, I'd say these two have to be different subspecies. What do you think?
And just for fun, some are huge in this lake:

 Even if I could get that guy to eat, I don't see how I'd have a shot at landing him. Therein is the fun.

Happy summer 2012!

I start each day

I start each outing hoping to catch one trout. Because I still think it's still kind of magic or miraculous that you can catch a wild trout on a fly, and because skunks stink. Catch one trout and I'm happy.
After one, however, I reevaluate. Depending on how that went, I will adjust my goal to five, 10, 12, 20, 500 .... whatever. And I never reach my goal because once I catch 12, I want 15 etc.
Yesterday my goal never got very high because I only caught one. As we'd heard, the upper Madison is fishing a bit slow right now.

But we fished new water: the slide, the islands upstream of Lyons, and the West Fork. The slide is particularly fun because if you hook a decent fish, you have to land it quick lest it take into the HEAVY water. You'll lose that battle. You have about a yard along the bank where you can let the fish play, but they know the game and will run away. And fish-god knows there are some bigguns in there. It's exciting.

But salmonflies will be on Varney Bridge soon and angling fortunes should flip. And the fish should be hungry because they don't seem to be eating much right now. May your goals be on the constant rise. Enjoy!

Errata

I won't name the magazine as I intend to take the medium-high road, but a national fly fishing magazine recently credited a photo of mine to an unknown person. I alerted the editorial staff (who I respect greatly), and was told a correction would be run. It wasn't. I talked to the staff and they said their requests fell on deaf ears. I e-mailed the publisher and the deafness continued.

I recently saw a photo-credit correction on Midcurrent, and it was handled with aplomb and courtesy. Anyone who works in the publishing industry understands that typos, errors, and miscellaneous mistakes will happen, even to the best (and are not the end of the world despite the beliefs of  internet hecklers). I have made my share. But running a correction on a miscredited photo is the right thing to do.

How should I handle this? Thus far, my stance has been to let bygones be bygones, but never contribute to this magazine again and talk shit about it (privately). It is a kind of a big deal, as I need to protect my intellectual property, but I want to be understanding and not get a reputation as a  pain-in-the-ass prima donna. And in theory, I'd like to contribute to this magazine again.

Thoughts? Has this happened to you? Do I have any recourse, or am I at the mercy of the publisher?

Ora to Vernon again

If you want to know what makes Henry's Fork of the Snake River Henry's Fork, go.
I've only gotten wet there a couple times for a couple hours for a couple stonefly hatches, and I only landed one small rainbow.
But yesterday, Brady clued us in as we floated Ora to Vernon. Twice. It's a short float, and the streamer bite had picked up at the end of the first run. By the time we bellied up at the TroutHunter, we'd all caught fish on nymphs, dries and streamers, and moved big fish, hooked nice ones, and landed one good fish.

Now repeat after me...

My motivation to revisit is strong. Everything a trout fisher hopes for is at Henry's Fork (except complete solitude, but I'm guessing it exists sometime, somewhere).
Photos of the day:

To live and die in MT

Montanans have all heard it - the first $20,000 of your salary comes in scenery. Is it worth it?

Depends what you value. If it's perpetual vacation (not really, but kind of), lots of area per capita, trout, and smiling, and can tolerate distance from your family (or not - some people were apparently born here), high property values and no retirement plan, you might like Montana. If it's professional sporting events, headliner music concerts, a respectable income, bluegill, white picket fence and can tolerate concrete, lots of capita per area, bluegill, family... maybe look elsewhere. Obviously these factors don't apply to everyone or everywhere, but they illustrate the point.

As further compensation for Montanans, you'll probably become friends with a fishing guide or two. As such, this Friday I've been offered a free "trip" on either Henry's Fork or the upper Madison to "help" a friend get in regular-season form. I'll probably have to pack my own lunch, though, which is kind of a ripoff.

No situation is perfect, and each has its pros and cons. But for me and my dog, we'll take the scenic, fishy compensation.

Funny river, funny hatch

The Lower Madison is a funny river. It has big fish and varied hatches, but it has a hard time bringing it all together. For example, when I first moved to Montana, I caught one of my nicest trout there on a dry fly (kind of - a sunken Sunken Stone) during the salmonfly hatch. Then in subsequent years the hatch became sparse and fickle - not really fishable. I stopped fishing Girdle Bugs there entirely. Caddis one year, virtually none the next. Then came the period when the trout would simply not rise, and don't forget the potato hatch.

Salmonflies are a funny bug. Hatches occur on most western freestones, but if conditions get too harsh (pollution, water temps, miscellaneous), they'll discontinue for a stint. There's never a guarantee. Timing is a huge part of hitting a hatch right - staying ahead, but not too far ahead of the main emergence, finding keyed-but-not-gorged fish...it's not easy. To hit it right, however, is an incredible occurrence.

Even funnier after a couple.

Last night, I got a text message. "Salmon flies on the lower, and it fished very well..." I cancelled my plans, tied some flies and was on the road by 8 this morning. Well, I saw 10 to 15 salmonfly adults (many more shucks), four to six of them on the water. But I couldn't even get a tug on a nymph. I tried three different patterns, then a dry with a nymph trailer off the bank. I was able to avoid the skunk, but via the Lower Madison crutch (a crayfish).

Ha ha.

Paradigm fisht

I was pretty indifferent until I saw one on the water. I then quickly got my own Water Master one-man raft.

It has changed my mindset about fishing.

It's nice to have a friend with one. 

Water Masters are one-man rafts that are 8 or 9 feet long that have an open bottom so you can stand and fish where ever you are (except where it's too deep). You can also dangle your feet and control the boat with flippers so you have both hands free to fish. You might have seen them around, or in the Fish Bums movies. They pack into a backpack that weighs under 50 pounds, so they can go almost anywhere.

Now I can (legally) fish all those sections on private land with miles between bridges that are too small for drift boats or rafts. I hope it won't ruin clients' experiences to see a dashing angler floating through what they were told was exclusive (odds are that's when I'll get a windknot, so that water will probably remain relatively virgin...). It takes awfully small water to be too small, and nothing is too big. It can apparently handle Class IV rapids, although mine won't see that kind of action.

Water Masters are easy to row, even for novices. I read a review by an outfitter who said he puts greenhorns in them everyday. And learning to row has increased my overall confidence on the river. I no longer feel like a feeble 8-year-old who needs an uncle to take him floating. I've finally grown up.

Yee-haw. Photo courtesy Will Jordan. 

My 2012 must-fish list has been completely revised. Different sections of well-known rivers, overlooked reservoirs, and different remote creeks made the new list. I look at fishing a little differently now.

These boats are recommended if you can afford it (even better if you can talk a buddy into getting one). Outcast makes a similar model as does Scadden  and Water Strider and probably other companies. They appear on Craigslist from time to time if you are looking for a discount. I've never rowed a pontoon-style personal watercraft, but most of the reviews I've seen rank the Water Master slightly higher for a variety of reasons (portability being the most obvious).

So hopefully (for selfish reasons) you won't see much of me this summer. I'll be where riff-raff like me rarely gains access, slinging hoppers and throwing streamers at cutoff banks. Cuz things done changed.

Density

There is a section of of a local river that has apparently 10.77 fish per mile while flowing at about 1,500 cfs. That's about 0.00718 fish per cfs volume unit. For some perspective, the Bighorn River tailwater has something like 6,000 fish per mile and flows at about 2,300 cfs for a total of 2.076 fish per volume unit, or about 300 times the fish density of this place.
But here's what one of the 11 per mile looks like:

More like Mont-Zealand. Photo courtesy Will Jordan.

Saturday's the small-stream opener - it only gets better from here. Cheers!

I sit and watch (and fish a little)

The storm before the calm before the storm is winding down. As cold, brown water begins to filter into the riverbeds, we find ourselves with some down time (and maybe a little time to fish, yet).

In my reflection, I see a satisfied angler, because he gets to fish with good friends. Every slosh in the mud or cast rolled symbolizes a well-spent moment.

The fishing's been good all winter and spring, culminating with a good day on Saturday. Many fish, many photo ops, and many high-fives. I'll leave the details between the banks, save for one photo. 

High-five!

Reflecting on fishing can make any life seem luminous. Maybe that's at the heart of why so many anglers are enamored.

All this floods my mind as I watch the rivers rise.

Boat envy

I've cultivated a reputation as a noteworthy drift boat captain for the wrong reasons. In three experiences total, I've knocked a buddy out of the boat (Jim Beam made me) on the lower Madison, aimlessly pirouetted around Hyalite Reservoir (I was honestly helpless but to spiral back to the ramp - without Mr. Beam's influence), and, in a rare proud moment, had an uneventful float down a short stretch of Jefferson River. 

Therefore I've been pretty content to ride instead of row, and my boat-owner friends have been content to let me.

But last weekend I developed a concentrated case of boat envy. Within 24 hours of seeing Will's new Water Master, I had one on the way. I have to believe it's the safest way for me to learn to float a Western river.

They open up so much water, big and small, slow and fast, moving and otherwise. We are looking forward to good times on hard-to-get-to water.

To conclude a terrific week:

Thursday: Bobby Knight and the Ice-out Shoot-out

Friday: Pick up Water Master

Saturday: Drift into the fluvial cosmos...

Excellent trouting

Gazing upon turn-of-the-20th-Century photos of Belgrade, Montana tonight, it struck me how quickly towns evolve while landscapes stay the same. It made me wonder what the rivers around here were like before browns and rainbows. Chock full of massive cutthroat and grayling? Sprinkled with a few small whitefish?

Clay and Brady in their primes (c.1904)
(incidentally, if you own the rights to the original photo, let me know and I'll make it right).

It reminded me of an old book I came across that gave basically the first popularized accounts of fishing in America, entitled: The angler's guide book and tourist's gazeteer of the fishing waters of the United States and Canada, published in 1886.

Here are some samples regarding Montana:

Butte - Big Hole r. 30m. Deer Lodge r. 18m. (known today as the Clark Fork of the Columbia); first best; trout and grayling are the principal varieties; worms, minnows, and art. flies used. June to October best; there are no hotels at fishing waters; excursions are made from Butte; boats and bait can be had at fishing grounds. 200 lbs of trout reported as a days catch for five rods. Other waters easily reached give superior fishing for trout....

...Dillon - Beaverhead r. 1/2m.; grayling and whitefish are principal varieties; grub bait in winter and grasshoppers in warm weather; all months good except May and June; hotels $2 p.d.; There are some small creeks 10 to 15 miles where trout are caught from May to November (coincidentally, our current small stream open season); guides and boats not needed...

...Gallatin - Gallatin r., Madison r., and Jefferson r.,; first best: trout, grayling and whitefish; all numerous; grasshopper usual bait; July, August, September and October best; hotels $10 p. w; excellent trouting...

...Livingston - Yellowstone r. 1/4 m.; trout and grayling; trout most numerous; art. flies used mostly; July, August and September best; hotels at reasonable prices; boats at $2 p.d. The fishing in the Yellowstone is simply magnificent. A bug, locally known as the "trout fly", which resembles the common "thousand legs", is the most killing lure. These bugs lie under the stones along shore and can be gathered by the hand-full. Query: Is it the helgramite or dobson of the East?

And that's just the beginning. Some of the waters were said to hold brook trout already. They used "bird meat", beef, bacon and "fat pork" as bait. "Indians and half-breeds as guides at reasonable prices...excellent fishing for large trout...will satisfy the most greedy angler..." The Big Blackfoot was already famous, being referenced as "celebrated waters" and a "noted fishery".  And at most places, flies were already being used. 

In 1886, fly fishing was well on it's way to what it's become.


This book was the prototype for the Flyfisher's Guides that now support me. Makes you wonder if it was really as good as they made it sound, or if they were peddling trout as we do today. My guess is that it was better than they made it sound, and we'll likely never see such fluvial wealth again.

Yellowstone in Winter

I'm talking about the Yellowstone River, of course. This winter's warmth has brought fishing opportunities to odd places on the Yellowstone, like this outing by some friends in early February.
Some other friends and I found a nice patch of rising cutthroat and whitefish up high later in the month, not that that's terribly uncommon.
Meanwhile, some other friends were "assaulting" Depuy Spring Creek in 50mph winds, which is also not uncommon. 
But now that it's March, everybody's thinking skwalas, and they can be found at more spots than the Bitterroot and Big Hole. I've personally seen at least one skwala on the upper Madison, lower Madison, Yellowstone, Gallatin,  Jefferson and the East Gallatin (or something similar in size and season - all black though). I've heard of them on the Missouri, and recently, the Owyhee in Oregon. There are many more skwala hatches throughout the West. Finding a fishable hatch might be the tricky part, but they're around. Go fish (maybe give it a month, though, in southwest Montana - couple weeks on the Bitterroot).

The time has come, the stakes have risen

The time for fiscal responsibility has passed and the time to fish has come.

In order to make my trip to the Olympic Peninsula happen, I've had to request my paycheck early, acquire a second credit card and put basically the entire trip on it, postpone bills, let my travel partner pay for more than his fair share (he insists he's happy to), drink shitty beer, wish-and-wash, and stress far more than I'm used to. If I wasn't confident it'll be worth it, I would never consider doing any of that.

After pulling all that, there's a slight chance I could be a dirt-bag fly fisherman after all (even so, you won't hear about my "sick" or "epic" trip, although I might mention how wonderful or terrific it was ... so probably still not
a dirt bag).

And then came the announcement that "most" steelhead fishing in Washington will close on February 1. Frig. Apparently, the OP should be good to go. 

All things considered, the stakes have risen. Better catch something. Or at least see something cool...

Fishing it off

Clay, Brady and Josh D. "fishing" it off.

While most folks sleep off their new year's hangovers, a certain group of anglers prefers to fish it off. We try to make a tradition of fishing Depuy Spring Creek in Paradise Valley, Montana, each January 1. I believe Sunday was our fourth trip. Fishing was hot and cold, but I had my best day at any of the Paradise Valley spring creeks (incidentally, Josh D. said it was one of his worst - go figure). Streamers would work, then nymphs, then nothing, then streamers... But above all, it's a great way to start a new year. Cheers!

Will, high-sticking.

Cramming in a few final drifts.