Redington Sonic-Pro Ultra Packable Wader

It's not the easiest thing in the world to wear another brand of waders in Simms country. You have to be willing to take a bit of grief, so it better be worth it. This, I learned while wearing the Redington Sonic-Pro Ultra Packable Wader this past year.

Photo: Ben Pierce Photography

These waders weigh about 1.5 pounds and roll up to about the size of half of a loaf of bread. They are easy to pack for camping or stuff in the backpack for a hike (most boots are still not as convenient, however), and would be great space savers for airborne fishing trips. They are quite comfortable due to their light, pliable material, and don't look particularly dweeby like some brands (although Liz tells me they're almost as flattering as another popular brand).

They use the Orvis sonic-seam technology which seems to work well, and are made of a four-layer breathable nylon apparently called High Density Mini Oxford Fabric.

Focus on the waders, not the fish...

Aside from their packability, they make a great shoulder-season option when it's a touch cold for wet-wading, but a touch warm for five-layer Gore-Tex. They include a detachable front pocket that is extremely convenient in certain situations, like when float fishing. You can take the pocket out of the equation when you're bobbing downriver, and put it back on when you need to hike over to the run opposite the island.
One draw-back, however, is the warranty. It's the limited one-year...plus that fly-fishing industry "service fee". It's only $30 with Redington, but it still gets to me a little. That said, all companies have this, so there's no disadvantage with these waders.

Ideal for hiking, too. 

Ultimately, these waders are fully recommendable. They're more affordable than other brands ($289.95), and they sprung exactly zero major leaks over a season of use (pinholes notwithstanding - they are inevitable and don't really leak, anyway). They're comfortable, packable, look fine, and most of all, functional. They might not be my go-to wader for January, but they might be for the rest of the year.

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 ;)

The people we meet

"I've been thinking lately 'bout the people I meet..." - Fish and Whistle, John Prine

People to whom fly-fishing has introduced me, or with whom fishing has strengthened our bond.

Whether or not visitors fish, we share time on the water. Really, what better way to experience a slice of Montana or to share a memory than to convene at the waterside, the same places our ancestors first settled? As visitor season winds down, we have a chance to reflect on the relationships.

Blogger friends who I'd never met, fellow writers, Wilderness Adventures Press' authors, guides helping research articles, fishy friends of friends, brothers-in-laws of college friends, traveling photographers, friends and family... Cheers to you all. I hope to see you again streamside.

Jed from Sula Mountain Fly Fishing showing us how to fish skwalas.

Liz's brother Eric, privy to a once-in-a-lifetime
brown-drake hatch his first time fly fishing.

Ok, this was in Wyoming... but connecting with fish and
 friends along the upper Green was a treat.

Brady getting into some root-snag rainbows a day after
Yellowstone's Black Canyon.

Russ fishing dries (and why wouldn't he?)
while comparing industry notes.

Lindsey making use of a dropper while out-fishing the "fishers". 

Casting ants on the Missouri, "impressing" Liz's father.

Charlie, on a previous trip. Didn't get to fish with him this time,
but it was good to catch up.

Don't believe the kype

You lie, and no one's buyin' it. That's not true - some people are. But I'm calling your "30-incher" about 19. Unless you have been diagnosed with bozoenae digititus (common name: clown fingers), that fish isn't as big as you'd like us to believe.

What. It's true. 

But that's okay because ultimately, dishonesty as much a part of fishing as foul hooking and hero shots. Otherwise upstanding people lie like whitefish under a foam line. And that dishonesty can maintain fishing friendships well beyond truthfulness. Be it an agreed-upon "rounding up" of inches, misleading directions to the honey-hole for the uninitiated, or outright lies about where you've been, fishing lies can show your angling integrity.

Fib wisely.

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.

Falling

Rivers rose and temperatures fell.
Fish rose and rain fell.
Grasshoppers die while big orange sedges hatch.
Fisheries open as summer closes.
Hebgen trout migrate while colored leaves fall.
Mornings need sleep, noon needs fishing.
The 90-degree sun has set behind the snow-capped ridgeline.

Rod tips rise and stress falls.

Autumn begins Sunday.

Luxuries of a boat bag

Are boat bags essential fly fishing gear? No. Are they extremely nice when fishing from a boat? Yep. And every bit of ease, comfort and happiness counts to this crotchety angler.

Right here ^
It snugs up nicely beside a cooler bag in between the cross bars of an Outcast PAC 1300,
beneath a soft dry-fly cast on the Yellowstone River.

They easily stand upright in a boat (unlike backpacks, etc.), protect your gear with hard sides, provide easy access in a boat, are easy to load and unload with their top-mount handles. So I got one.

Sage's Technical Boat Bag is handsome, durable and accommodating. It holds a full inventory of gear:

• rain jacket
• map book
• five or six fly boxes, and a couple more fly-shop cups
• a couple bottles of floatant
• a couple tins of split shot
• a few indicators
• a Garmin unit
• a good-sized first-aid kit
• lip balm
• sunscreen
• long-sleeved shirt
• water filter
• a few granola bars
• some plastic bags for dog poop or whatever
• small MILC camera and extra lens
• spare AA batteries
• Raft repair kit
• Forceps with tippet caddy and nippers can attach to any of a number of exterior tabs
• Miscellany like salmon-steelhead poly leaders, old leaders for streamer fishing, mini camping-storage bags, etc.

All fits with aplomb and there's still room for a water bottle.

Perfect for a WaterMaster, too. 

I noted some minor issues, like the absent bag-top handle. Lifting it into the boat requires one little extra step - cinch down the shoulder strap to be used as a hand-handle. Absolute minutia, but something. It does have hand handles on either side, on top of the side pockets (two hands usually required). It also has accoutrements like a big Velcro-able fly patch and a cover leaf for added protection, with magnets to keep it where you want.

I owned an old brand-name boat bag that had some serious waterproof zipper issues - this bag seems to have passed that test. The zippers aren't terribly hard to pull and they haven't given out yet, save for one zipper pull that popped off almost immediately.

Get'cha self one.

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.

Slimy bulldogs

Though often not apparent, there are myriad chubs and suckers in Montana's trout streams. Float the middle stretch of the Bitterroot sometime and look over the bow at all the big, ugly fish fleeing. They are good for the rivers' health (Missoula outfitter Joe Cummings calls them the bison of the Bitterroot), and have every right to inhabit these rivers. I cringe at the thought of some anglers tossing them on the bank.
They're not pretty, and maybe that's why they disappoint most anglers. I find them to be a nice change of pace, but I don't fish for aesthetics. And these gross fish can fight like bulldogs.

Carp don't really fit this mold despite their homeliness, because fly fishing for carp has become a wildly popular activity. Fly anglers respect carp, but not their slimy, down-mouthed brethren. I'm talking about the unknown suckers and chubs.
I say it's time to love all fishes, pretty and ugly. Judge them not based on their appearance, but on their value as sport fish.