111° WEST

Winter Midging

2012-02-01T09:54:00.003-07:00

January in Montana isn't generally associated with great dry fly fishing; in fact many anglers don't associate the time of year with fly fishing at all. If anything it's indicators and split-shot, eggs and worms, iced guides and cold fingers. And frankly, even if giant stoneflies hatched in January (and they don't), I'm not sure many anglers would bother to bundle up and rise to the occasion. It can be difficult to find an eager fishing partner when the forecast is calling for highs in the mid-30's, mostly cloudy skies, and a 50% chance of midge hatches.

A beautiful scene: rising trout, a bent rod and winter solitude.

Yet that is just what a friend found in me earlier this week. As we made the early morning drive to the 50-mile riffle I couldn't help but wonder if I'd made a bad decision... the wind was howling and snow squalls were sweeping through the valley. Considering the weather, it wasn't all that surprising to find the parking area deserted upon our arrival. I tossed an extra layer and a Thermos of coffee in my pack and off we went, post-holing through deep snow drifts to get to the river.

All eyes are on the prize.

The good nymph fishing early in the day didn't come as a surprise, rather it was the dry fly fishing later in the day that caught me off guard. By late morning the clouds had parted, the wind calmed, and midges began appearing in the softer water. It didn't take long before we began seeing fish feeding on the surface, in some locations there were dozens of trout rising consistently. In a foolish move I hadn't brought my dry fly box, but I'd tied up a few adult midge patterns the night before and stashed them in my nymph box, just in case. I re-rigged as quickly as possible, and began casting upstream to individual risers at the back of the pack. These fish weren't pushovers, my size 20 zelon creation wasn't getting it done. Fortunately my comrade had come better prepared for the possibility of a midge hatch and quickly came to my rescue with a homespun cdc pattern that proved to be effective.

A fine winter brown, taken on a Hi-Viz Griffith's Gnat.

Over the course of the afternoon we worked our way upriver, stopping to watch the soft pockets of water along the way for risers. In about a half dozen locations we found pods of fish rising to midges, some of the fish being quite large. By making a concerted effort to work each pool from tail to head, and by quickly playing hooked fish away from the pod, we were able to take multiple fish from each location. All in all, the hatch provided a few hours of fun and challenging dry fly fishing, and in January of all months!

Ninety-Ten

2012-01-25T20:20:00.008-07:00

We've all heard the ninety-ten rule as it applies to fishing... ten percent of anglers catch ninety percent of the fish. It may be true, but I've never liked the saying, perhaps out of fear that I'm on the outside looking in.

Earlier this week while fishing with veteran guide Mike Faris on the Bighorn River, I heard a new take on the ninety-ten rule. While I was lamenting all of the great looking water that we were pushing through during our float, Mike assured me that at this time of the year, "Ninety percent of the fish are in ten percent of the water." It took some convincing, but by days' end I was a believer. It's an interesting concept, and one that I suspect we would all do well to keep in mind, at least during the winter months.

Read my post on the MT Sporting Journal blog for a report on the trip.

Brown trout, rusty Buicks, blue skies and cheap cigars on the Bighorn River this week.

MSJ Interview

2012-01-18T11:38:00.001-07:00

The new issue of Montana Sporting Journal features a great interview with Randy Newberg of Bozeman, MT. Randy is the host and producer of On Your Own Adventures, in my opinion it is the best hunting television show out there. The show focuses on public land, big game hunting in the West - unguided, ethical, DIY style hunting. Most western hunters can relate to that.

Check out the full MSJ interview with Randy to get a feel for what he, and his television show are all about: www.montanasportingjournal.com/current.html

Made in Montana

2012-01-12T16:45:00.001-07:00

A few months ago I had an opportunity to take a tour of the Simms production facility here in Bozeman, Montana. It was interesting to see just how the waders that I wear are made - from start to finish - and to meet some of the folks who are a part of that process. The purpose of the tour was to familiarize myself with the company in order to write this article for Montana Sporting Journal. It seems like a great place to work and the company's employees definitely have an appreciation for the fact that they're creating some of the world's best waders. As one employee said to me, "It beats producing widgets." Yes, yes it does... keep up the good work!

A fresh batch of G4Z waders... it doesn't get any better than these!

Clay meticulously cutting Gore-Tex material. His margin of error? Miniscule.

It's all done in Bozeman... cutting, sewing, taping, attachments, you name it.

The fishing report board... it's legit. Simms waders are made for anglers, by anglers.

Living a Little

2012-01-04T09:00:00.002-07:00

I tend to be a bit frugal. Friends and family have become accustomed to my hand-made gifts (flies and photo prints are perennial favorites), the rarity with which I spring for the bar tab, and my preference for fishing waters close to home (the Gallatin again?!?).

Yet I realize that sometimes a guy has to live a little, so on New Year's Day I shelled out forty hard earned dollars to fish the hallowed water of a private spring creek named DePuy. Was it worth it? The penny pincher in me can't help but break it down into dollars and cents, and the fact that each trout I caught on this day cost me an average of four dollars. The flipside of the coin is that I'd have enjoyed the fishing even if I had only caught a single trout. This day was all about experiencing a special place, spending time on the water with friends, and starting the year off in an enjoyable - and uncharacteristic - fashion.

I can think of worse ways to spend $40...

The Anglers Hut... what I wouldn't give to call this little fixer upper home!

Enjoying some hut time.

Solid State

2011-12-30T11:07:00.001-07:00

I gave ice fishing another chance this week. My first experience with the lauded winter pastime was a couple of years ago on a sprawling expanse of wind scoured ice near Cody. Despite the productive fishing I vowed I would never do it again, it was an unecessarily brutal introduction.

This past week I spent time with family in Billings. As talk of an ice fishing trip began heating up amongst the elders I tried to steer things in a different direction. A float on the Bighorn anyone? My persuasive efforts failed. Promises of an ice house, heater, and hot coffee were reassuring - as was the fact that my five year old nephew was stoked about the trip. If he could handle it, I figured I could too.

As it turns out, fishing through the ice can be an enjoyable experience after all.

The morning sun greets an intrepid ice fisherman.

Punching one through.

The kids loved every minute of it.

Not a bad way to spend a beautiful winter day.

Waiting for the flag to fly.


Burbot: ugly, but tasty.

Brighter Days Ahead

2011-12-21T07:27:00.000-07:00

December solace on The East.

Tonight is the winter solstice in the Northern Hemisphere, and marks the longest night of the year. In my neck of the woods, the sun will set this afternoon at 4:42 and won't rise again for fifteen hours and twenty minutes.

It was dark when I began working this morning, and it will be dark when I call it quits this evening. Where's the fun in that?

Fortunately brighter days are ahead. From here on out, each day will be a little longer, the sun a little higher. A month from now there will be nearly two extra hours of daylight. And eventually the day will come when I'll once again find myself knee deep in the Gallatin, fishing the caddis hatch in the twilight of a summer night.

Here's to the turning point.

Chub Love

2011-12-12T10:30:00.000-07:00

The roundtail chub, AZ's equivalent of the Rockies' oft loathed whitefish.

They don't have pretty speckled spots along their flanks. They don't have an adipose fin. They don't get any respect.

They do have a beauty all their own. They do take dry flies. They do fight sportingly.

The roundtail chub is a species native to the lower Colorado River basin. The species is imperiled, and some of its most critical, currently occupied habitat is in Arizona. Anglers fishing waters within the Gila, Salt and Verde River watersheds are likely to incidentally catch the species while targeting trout. Few anglers specifically target roundtail chub.

Last week I found myself on Arizona's Fossil Creek in search of chubs... specifically in search of chubs. The creek is a perennial tributary of the Verde River with a base flow of more than 40 cfs (substantial by AZ standards). Over the past century the majority of its flow was diverted to supply the increasingly irrelevant Childs-Irving hydroelectric facility. As part of a transformative habitat restoration project on Fossil Creek, the facility was recently decommissioned and the diverted water returned to the streambed. Not surprisingly, the project has been of great benefit to the native fishes of Fossil Creek, including the roundtail chub.

The roundtail chub is a candidate species for protection under the Endangered Species Act. Any successful efforts to expand its currently occupied range will help reduce the likelihood of the species being listed. ESA mandates would potentially have far reaching implications upon the management of Arizona fisheries within chub habitat (i.e.: termination of non-native trout stocking, and the removal of competitive and predatory non-native fishes).

Fossil Creek: 16 miles of stunning, emerald-green watercourse.

Upon the project's completion the Arizona Game & Fish Department opened a portion of Fossil Creek to recreational fishing, they did so despite the absence of any species commonly considered to be sport fish. The department is making a valiant effort to change public perception regarding the roundtail chub and the widely held belief that it isn't worthy of classification as a sport fish.

The creek is Arizona's only designated roundtail chub fishery, complete with seasonal closures, and C&R regulations. The pools along the stream's course hold good numbers of chubs, including large representatives of the species, up to 18 inches or more. A small stream rod, a box of attractor flies, pant waders, and - perhaps most importantly - an open mind are all that is needed to enjoy this unique fishery.

A Last Conversation with Gary LaFontaine

2011-11-29T10:34:00.006-07:00

The late, great Gary LaFontaine is a man of high regard within fly fishing circles. He's an iconic angler, and someone who I would have liked to have had the opportunity to meet. He was a tireless researcher of aquatic entomology and trout behavior. Fortunately Gary was also a talented writer and had a penchant for sharing his angling knowledge. Many of the books authored by Gary are widely considered to be amongst the very best literary works ever composed within the fly fishing genre.

I recently stumbled upon a fascinating interview of Gary LaFontaine, conducted by Craig Oberg, a microbiology professor at Weber State University. The interview took place late in Gary's life, at a point when Lou Gehrig's Disease had taken a severe toll on his health. Those familiar with Gary's work will undoubtedly enjoy reading the interview, from which an introductory excerpt can be found below, along with a link to the full text.

The Evergreen Care Center in Missoula, Montana, was like most nursing homes, pleasant but a little depressing. Gary's room was at the end of one hall; a computer rested on a table along with pictures of Gary and friends with big trout on famous rivers. Even in a state of rapidly declining health, Gary welcomed an opportunity to be interviewed. Read more...

Breaking News

2011-11-18T12:45:00.008-07:00

A broken fly rod is a buzzkill, especially when it happens on day two of a weeklong fishing trip. Such was the case for me on a recent trip to the Missouri River.

It was the rod pictured at left, a Redington RS4. This was my streamer rig and was regularly subjected to 200- and 300-grain sink tip fly lines and large streamers. Until this fateful day, it performed nicely over a couple years of steady use.

The best feature of this rod? The warranty. I shipped it to Bainbridge Island with a $30 check on 10/26, I had a replacement rod back on 11/3! That is remarkable service, the best I've come across in fact, and worthy of acknowledgment!

Missouri River Breaks

2011-11-15T08:00:00.000-07:00

      I'm fresh off of an enjoyable week of mule deer hunting in Montana's Missouri River Breaks country. Now it's back to the grind, and looming deadlines. We had a comfortable camp full of great guys, I probably enjoyed the camp life as much as the time afield.
      Just one of five deer tags were filled in our camp, yet I believe most of us came away feeling that the hunt was a success. Whether or not the trigger is pulled, it's hard not to feel grateful and satisfied after spending a week in the heart of some of Montana's most storied hunting grounds.
      We had our share of challenges during the hunt. The region's infamous gumbo mud slowed us down, as did mechanical issues with our jet boat. Deer numbers were down substantially, a result of the wretched winter that northeast Montana endured last year.
      Despite the challenges, we hunted hard and saw plenty of deer, including some dandy bucks. Wildlife was abundant, on a daily basis thousands of migrating geese passed overhead, coyotes serenaded us at night, sharptail grouse flushed at our feet, and herds of elk had us wishing we'd drawn the coveted tags to hunt them. We even managed to sneak in some time for fishing, which produced a solid northern pike for me and a skunking for everyone else.
      Here are a few images that I took during the hunt - the conditions were great for photography, spectacular sunrises and sunsets, a full moon, and great early and late day lighting. I'm certainly looking forward to next year's hunt in The Breaks, it's worth making a tradition out of.

Glassing for mule deer at last light.

Our hunting camp, lit up under a full moon.

A beautiful sunrise from the boat.

To the Rescue

2011-11-03T08:10:00.003-06:00

A major Gallatin Valley irrigation artery flows near my house. Throughout the summer months I often see fish in the ditch, but such sightings are bittersweet because I know that the days are prematurely numbered for these fish. Come fall, as irrigation demand decreases, the headgate is closed and the water flowing through the ditch is reduced to a trickle. This situation leaves the fish in the ditch without enough water to survive the winter. I would venture to guess that thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of fish (not all of them trout), perish in this ditch alone every year.

Last week a friend and I spent a couple of hours netting fish that were trapped in the ditch near my home. The culvert below my driveway creates one of the few remaining deep pools on this stretch of the ditch, and a large number of fish had congregated here in recent weeks. In this pool alone, we managed to net over fifty fish and transport them safely back to the Gallatin River. The majority of the fish in this location were fingerling whitefish, but there were a few trout in the mix, including one surprisingly large brown.

After removing most of the fish in the portion of the ditch near my house, we drove a mile or so to the headgate. I had a hunch that some larger fish might have recently moved into this area in a futile attempt to escape their watery grave. Sure enough we netted and released several large browns just downstream of the headgate. A couple of these trout were sizable by Gallatin River standards, measuring more than 16 inches.

This wasn't a sanctioned event. I don't have water rights on the ditch, and ditches don't fall under Montana's stream access law. But I wasn't about to sit around and do nothing. I'm not advocating that you follow my lead and trespass on your local ditch in an effort to save a few fish. But you may find that your local TU chapter provides an opportunity to get involved. For example, my local chapter (Madison-Gallatin) is coordinating an upcoming event to relocate trout from an irrigation ditch near the Madison River. Fish mortality associated with irrigation ditches isn't a problem everywhere, but if it's an issue in your area, contact your local TU chapter to find out how you can help.

For additional reading on the topic, the current issue of TROUT magazine features an excellent article about TU volunteers in Wyoming working to rescue trout from irrigation ditches. You can read the full article online through TU's website.

Trout Camp

2011-10-27T09:26:00.003-06:00

Illuminated by the glow of a gas lantern and warmed by lengths of pine burning in the wood stove, the timber frame wall tent made for a rustic and comfortable camp at day's end. We were here, a long way from anywhere, in the hills of Montana, with trophy hunting as the impetus.

October in Montana is many things to many people. For some it's all about getting in the first high country powder turns of the season, cranking out a few more miles on dry singletrack, or simply enjoying the fall foliage along a favorite hiking trail. But perhaps more so than any other fall pursuit in Montana, hunting takes center-stage come October.

The hunt can take many forms, from trailing pointers through CRP fields, to pursuing bull elk in timbered mountain haunts, or - as in our case - seeking out the fall runs of trophy brown trout.

Last week we loaded up with a few days worth of fishing gear, provisions and firewood. Our arrival was a bit early in regard to the peak of the brown trout run on this river, we knew that, but it was the time-frame that accommodated our collective work schedules. We hoped that our early arrival also meant we'd find less competition on the water from fellow anglers, and fewer actively spawning fish to disturb.

It turned out we were definitely early. Too early. The big browns weren't in yet, at least not in any significant numbers. We had our shots at a couple of big browns, and managed to land a few solid fish - mostly rainbows, but it wasn't quite what we'd hoped for. Fortunately a good fishing trip is about much more than just the catching.

The Taper

2011-10-11T12:21:00.009-06:00

Gray skies and blue wings have blessed Montana in recent days. It's a great time to be fishing, perhaps the best of times. Heavy morning frosts and snow-capped summits are a subtle reminder of the long winter soon to settle in. Down, fleece and wool have replaced sandals, shorts and - sadly - skirts. Hoppers are but a distant memory.

Solitude can once again be found on blue-ribbon water. Those anglers who remain are buoyed by baetis and brawny browns. The ranks are increasingly being thinned by the pursuit of bucks, bulls and birds. The taper is in full effect.

A Walk in the Park

2011-10-04T12:02:00.001-06:00

Spending a couple of days in Yellowstone National Park, taking in the sights and sounds of fall, is becoming an October tradition of mine. This past weekend I visited the Mammoth Hot Springs and Tower Junction regions of the park. Early mornings and evenings found me hiking the meadows and aspen glades with a camera and telephoto lens, attempting to photograph rutting elk. Mid-day hours were spent fishing the Gardner River. Moon lit soaks in the Boiling River, and drinks at the Blue Goose capped things off at night.

The photography and the fishing weren't quite as productive as I'd hoped for, but it was enjoyable none the less. Anyone who tries to tell you that it's easy to consistently capture good photos of mature bull elk in Yellowstone probably hasn't tried it much. Some photographers drive the highways through the park day in and day out looking for roadside wildlife, but that isn't my style, and isn't as effective as you might think. Instead I opt to set out on foot, covering lots of country and hoping to find myself in the right place at the right time. Away from the roads, the park's wildlife becomes surprisingly wary and largely intolerant of human presence. Once a photogenic subject is located and successfully approached, there is the issue of lighting - the element that often separates a good photo from a bad one.

On numerous occasions this weekend it almost all came together for me, but not quite. More than once I had other "photographers" brashly approach and spook bulls that I had worked so hard to stalk within range of. Warm temperatures had the elk heading for dark timber before the sun crested the horizon each morning, making for challenging, heavy contrast lighting conditions during shooting hours. Just like with fishing, I can find plenty of excuses for why the big one got away. Here are a few of the better photos from the weekend:

Good to Great

2011-09-22T10:17:00.007-06:00

It's a long way to the top, take it one step at a time.

I try to make a habit of listening to Tom Rosenbauer's Orvis podcasts. A new podcast is published every week or so, and while many of them are at a Fly Fishing 101 level, I usually glean some knowledge from each episode.

Earlier this summer Rosenbauer did an episode entitled, Ten Steps From Novice to Intermediate. It was pretty standard stuff: fish more, practice casting, find a fishing buddy at your level, and etc. But it got me to thinking about what steps an angler, such as myself, might take to make the transcendence from intermediate to advanced. After all, if something is worth doing, it's worth doing well.

Below, and in no particular order, are several steps that I think would lead to personal advancement in fly fishing ability. Do you disagree with these? I didn't quite make it to ten, what would you add to the list?

1) Read. Much has been written about the pastime of fly fishing. Anglers seeking to overcome mediocrity will do well to study the iconic and timeless work of Bergman, Brooks, LaFontaine, Marinaro, Mathews, Nemes, and Schwiebert, among others.

2) Move to Montana. On second thought, I'd rather not attract additional anglers to MT waters - consider moving to any other trout rich locale. When it comes to improving, nothing beats time on the water... and not just any water, but the type of water that you prefer to fish. If carp and panfish put the starch in your shorts then your metropolis' local ponds will fit the bill. But if freestone rivers and wild trout are your thing, you'll only reach the next level by living close enough to visit regularly.

3) Study entomology. Bugs, they're what it's all about. Obtaining extensive and applicable knowledge of aquatic and terrestrial insects is one of the most significant advancements that most intermediate anglers can make.

4) Tie. As long as you don't get carried away, you'll save money and as a result your fly inventory will swell. You'll begin to focus on tying truly effective patterns, rather than buying the flashy patterns that fly shops are trying to unload. And of course there is the creativity aspect, allowing you to customize flies, often resulting in an increased level of effectiveness.

5) Fish with experts. You don't have to ditch your old fishing buddies, but try to find a few who can teach you a thing or two. I'm regularly outfished by some of the guys with which I spend time on the water, but I've learned a lot in the process.

6) Mix it up. So you can slay fish by nymphing, great, try it without an indicator. Work on improving your dry fly fishing. Advance your streamer fishing methods. Take a page out of Nemes book (not literally, they're valuable) and swing soft hackles for a change. How's your reach cast, your pile cast, your double haul and your roll cast? Challenge yourself to become a well rounded angler.

7) Think like a fish. You're already thinking like a dead stonefly... now try thinking like a fish. Study up on the behavior of the species you pursue.

8) Observe. This one made Rosenbauer's list for "beginner to intermediate", but it's worth repeating. A few years back I remember hearing Craig Mathews suggest that anglers would do well to sit and observe the river for ten to fifteen minutes upon arriving at the water's edge. That is something I've heard him reiterate time and time again. The way I saw it, that was fifteen minutes of lost fishing time, but I'm beginning to realize the importance of taking the time to simply observe. There is much to be seen.

9) Fish year round. This isn't possible everywhere, regulations in many states preclude fall and winter stream fishing for trout. And in many regions fishing through the cold winter months can be uncomfortable at times. When and where it is possible, take advantage of the opportunity to hone your skills year round.

Gallatin River: Top to Bottom

2011-09-09T08:28:00.008-06:00

Montana's Gallatin River is my home water. I live along its banks, I've fished it in all seasons, in all types of weather, in high water, in low water, I've fished it through the good times and the bad. Yet until recently there was something I'd not done: fish its extreme upper and lower reaches.

For years I had been wanting to fish the lower river, from the confluence of the East Gallatin River and the mainstem, down to the confluence with the Missouri River. It is at this point, and this point only, that float fishing becomes an option on the Gallatin - legally speaking. Since I don't own a boat my opportunities to fish here have been fairly limited by poor public access and difficult wade fishing.

A couple of weeks ago I had the pleasure of floating the lower Gallatin with a couple of friends. Word had it that floating this section of river in a drift boat is best accomplished at flows of 800cfs or higher. We risked it at 650cfs in a heavy aluminum boat and had no issues. We had the river to ourselves, we didn't see another boat, or wade angler the entire day - and this just a half hour from the Mecca of Bozeman.

I was surprised to find that I caught rainbows over browns, 3 to 1. An interesting occurrence here was the impressive number of "nocturnal" or "midnight" stonefly shucks present along the river banks. Despite this, and good numbers of hoppers along the river, the dry fly bite never really materialized. Over the past couple of weeks the river has dropped considerably and is now too bony for drift boats and rafts. Perhaps when irrigation demands ease up this fall, I'll have the chance to revisit this portion of the river.

Much as I've long pined to fish the lower Gallatin, so too have I wanted to explore the upper river above its confluence with Fan Creek. Here the river veers from Hwy 191, and leads to the high and wild country that comprises its headwaters. This reach of the river flows within Yellowstone National Park and is a high elevation meadow stream.

Over Labor Day Weekend I found myself working at the FFF Conclave in West Yellowtone, MT. This put me within easy striking distance of the Gallatin's upper reaches. The festivities wrapped up early Saturday afternoon and I wasted no time in driving to the Buffalo Pass trailhead. I was surprised to be the only vehicle in the parking lot. I checked the trailhead signboard for any notice of recent bear activity, there was none. I was solo and on edge. As I started up the trail I belted out a few practice rounds of my best precautionary, "HEY BEAR!" rendition and made sure my Counter Assault was at the ready.

A trout stream usually has a way of easing any anxiety I'm feeling, but it failed to work its magic on this day. I never could get into the zone and really focus on the fishing. Bear tracks and scat kept me alert and scanning my surroundings. I was covering a lot of water, fishing the best and skipping the rest. As I came around a bend in the river I glanced upstream to see what I had been fearing all along - a large grizzly feeding about 150 yards away. The bear saw me about the same time that I saw it. Fortunately it wanted nothing to do with me and quickly retreated into the timber.

I don't have much experience with grizzlies, and that's how I'd prefer to keep it. This was only the third one I've seen. I appreciate that grizzlies roam these mountains and I do my best to keep them from deterring my desire to explore the wild country they inhabit. But just knowing that you've dropped a notch on the food chain really has a way of changing a backcountry experience. In these parts the presence of grizzlies is felt, if not seen.

Common sense, coupled with mediocre fishing, suggested that I retreat to the truck. As I beat a quick path back toward the trailhead I periodically turned to look over my shoulder, vowing to someday return and fish here again... perhaps with a buddy who I can outrun.

Dog Days

2011-08-27T15:31:00.004-06:00

Yesterday I stood on the banks of Montana's Boulder River at 8-Mile Bridge. Next to me was a Californian who I'd just met that morning. He being the friend of a cousin, I was to take him fishing. These types of favors seem to get called in with some frequency when you live in Montana.

He and his wife were good company. He could cast, his ability to read water was first rate, his drifts were drag-free and his fly boxes were well stocked. The only problem was that he was dead set on fishing dries with his Orvis bamboo rod. Nothing but dries, all day. The trout were not rising. Not to terrestrials, not to attractors, not to anything. Meanwhile I was mopping up his backwater with an articulated olive mess connected to a 200-grain sink tip. After the 4th or 5th heavy brown came to hand within sight of him, I started feeling a little guilty. I switched to dry flies thinking that I could help him get it figured out - I didn't catch another fish, but misery loves company.

Maybe it's just me, but the dry fly bite has been pretty slow of late. The few hopper eats I've had over the past couple of weeks have been rather small fish. It's August in Montana during a good water year, you'd think the surface action would be exceptional. I'm blaming it on a myriad of factors: the hot weather and relentless sunshine, the tapering off of hatches, the unusually high rivers... or perhaps it is just me.

Fishing Log: 7/21 - 8/5

2011-08-07T08:28:00.010-06:00

My fishing journal entries are a bit cryptic and rough around the edges. They're often composed late night - after getting off the water, having a couple of beers and trying to fend off sleep for as long as possible. I keep the log as a means of recording river conditions, hatches, productive flies and etc. - it serves its purpose well. Here's a peek at some of the fishing I've experienced over the past couple of weeks:

7/21/11 - River X [edited]. 500cfs (-). Tough to stay below the HWM. Poor viz of 1-2'. Caught cutts down low and browns up high, go figure. Jess caught a nice brook trout. Nymphing was the name of the game, trout liked golden stones and rubber legs, the whiteys wouldn't leave a green z-wing alone. Yellow sallies and PMDs throughout the day, numerous caddis in the evening... rises were few and far between.

7/22/11 - Lower Madison. 3,250cfs... they've been playing w/ flows again (raising them). Floated WS to BF. Viz was plenty good, 2-3'. Josh caught a pig right out of the gate, a fat 21" brown... biggest I've seen out of the Lower, took a big streamer on a sink-tip. Fishing was slow overall, I lost a couple of fish on a caddis pupa. Bikini hatch was sparse, probably due to heavy cloud cover.

7/23/11 – Jefferson River. Floated Kountz to Cardwell. Bright sun all day, 2,800cfs at Parsons (-), 2' of viz. The Jefferson is always a gamble, and it didn't pay off today... just a couple of small fish were caught.

7/24/11 – Gallatin River. 1,800 cfs (-). Viz 2'+ with a color now more green than brown. Fished behind the house this evening, it was very good. The best fish was a 17” brown that was super heavy. Fish were holding in soft water along banks. A half-back was most productive, but a shop vac took a few as well. It's like fishing a new river, runoff has changed everything.

7/25/11 – Gallatin River. 1,700 cfs (-). 2'+ of viz. Floated Cameron Bridge to Four Corners (FAS). Excellent fishing - the trout are fat and happy with all this water, caught several in the 15-17" range and a couple over 18". A pink worm was the hot fly, but stonefly nymphs and shop vacs, PTs, etc took plenty of fish. The key was getting down DEEP. PMDs, yellow sallies and - later - caddis, but few risers. Don't take the left channel below Ralph's place!

7/27/11 – Gallatin River. 1,600 cfs (-). 3' of viz. Fished from 8-10am behind the house this morning. Tried out the 3wt Winston LT for the first time, sweet dry fly rod! Lots of nocturnal stonefly shucks along the river. Peacock, #12 stimulator trailed by a #14 yellow stimi. A few nice browns came off the banks for the yellow stimi. No active risers seen. Also fished from 8-9:30pm behind the house, taking two tiny rainbows on an Iris Caddis that I tied up before going out. Caddis were out in droves, but very few rises.

7/30/11 - Slough Creek, Soda Butte Creek, the Lamar River and the Yellowstone River. Slough's big cutts proved challenging, last-second refusals on #16 pmd sparkle duns and #18 black ant patterns - the smaller trout were eager to oblige. Soda Butte was a zoo in the lower meadows, caught one nice trout on a #12 stimulator before we headed for less crowded water. The Lamar's lower canyon yielded a few smaller trout, on both nymphs and dries, but was slow overall. The Yellowstone near Tower still had salmonflies in the air, and trout looking up... visibility was less than 2'.

8/2/11 - Lower Madison River. 2,000 cfs, 3'+ of viz. Hiked into Beartrap... all the way to the creek. Large hoppers with wings were in the grass along the lower end of the canyon. The dry fly fishing was excellent, fish were looking up and taking a Turk's or the trailing x-caddis. Fish have really spread out, many were taken in faster water near the banks, boulder pockets, seams and etc. Good numbers of caddis and yellow sallies out late, a few active risers. Water temps in the river have remained relatively cool this year... topped out at 67 today, fish are looking healthy and reviving them is not a problem.

8/3/11 - Hyalite Lake. Hiked Hyalite Peak today and packed along a 4 piece and attractor patterns for the alpine lake. According to MFISH the lake holds cutts, but upon arrival I saw no signs of life despite a prolific hatch of large mayflies (unsure of I.D., but not callibaetis) and lots of moths on the water. Walked the entire perimeter, no fish seen - lake is very shallow along the shoreline. Didn't wet a line. Upon getting home I looked at MFISH again and added "fishing logs" to the query... sure enough anglers are reporting catches of cutts and brookies here... should have fished, oh well. Great hike, the glissade down from the summit ridge was awesome!

8/5/11 - Gallatin River. 1,100 cfs and gin clear. The river has really been dropping and clearing, but some crossings are still difficult on foot. Pulled the SOAR out of storage and floated from the house to the frontage road this evening. 2.5-3 hour float if no stops. A few pushy sweepers/strainers, but nothing too crazy. Fishing was very good, despite the fact that I stubbornly stuck with an unproductive streamer (Matt's sculpin) pattern trailed by a very productive shop vac. Took a couple of healthy rainbows in Ralph's Run as well as some whitefish. Helped Megan with her cast and mending, got her into a couple of fish by days end on a shop vac run shallow under an indicator. Great numbers of caddis out, and a few active risers - worked them until last light near the take-out.

Mike Lopez Interview - State of White Mtn Fisheries

2011-07-26T11:39:00.004-06:00


Wallow Fire burn intensity map.

The aftermath of the Wallow Fire hasn't been pretty. Many of the trout streams of Arizona's White Mountains have experienced devastating fish kills. Only in rare instances was it the fire itself that killed fish, rather it has been the subsequent ash laden runoff that has dealt the knockout blow.

With public access to the forest essentially shut-down, rampant speculation and second hand rumors have been swirling regarding the fate of many trout streams in the region. In an effort to determine the facts, I recently contacted Mike Lopez, Fish Program Manager for the White Mountain region. The following is a bit of our correspondence:

WJ - What a devastating wildfire. I fear the worst for some of the fisheries within the Black River and Blue River watersheds. What are your post-fire observations of these fisheries?

ML - The Blue River has experienced a fish kill due to ash flows in early July that ranged all the way down through the San Francisco River through Clifton. We have not been able to get into the Blue to assess the extent of the fish kill, but hope to do that soon. Some of the major tributaries, such as Grant and KP Creek should come out okay, although may see some sediment deposition is the pools. These tributaries will play an important part in acting as refuges for some fish to get out of the ash flows coming down the Blue River itself.

WJ - The Black River mainstem is a pretty special place for many anglers... any glimmer of hope for it?

ML - The Black River [mainstem] is an unknown. It didn't have much intense burning right on the river, but quite a bit up in its tributaries. It could see some ash flow fish kills, but might not. Again, it depends upon the storms. I'll try to get more info out to you as we figure it out.

WJ - How are the East/West Forks of the Black River faring?

ML - The West Fork Black River is a mixed bag. The very upper portion above FR 116 was nearly untouched, so the Apache trout there will be okay. The middle reaches did see some impact from the fire, including some areas burned very intensely. There may or may not be some fish kills in the middle and lower reaches due to ash flows. It all depends upon the strength of the storms that drop on the intensely burned areas this year. The lower reaches below the campground were nearly untouched, but could still see a fish kill due to ash flows coming from the middle reaches.

The East Fork Black is also a mixed bag. The lower portions were burned mostly low intensity, but the middle portion between Diamond Rock and Three Forks was hit pretty hard. There could be ash flow fish kills downstream from this heavily burned area. Again, it all depends upon the strength of the storms that hit that area. If it only gets small storms that flush ash through in small quantities, then the fish will be okay. If a strong storm hits an intensely burned area and all the ash comes down at once, that is when the fish kills occur.

WJ - From the burn intensity map it looks like the Fish Creek drainage was hammered... any hope for the Apaches in the creek?

ML - Fish Creek was burned very intensely in it's upper reaches. We documented live fish and young-of-year in that heavily burned reach when I saw it in late June, but would anticipate that it will kill from ash flows. This one is especially unfortunate, since that Apache trout population was doing so well, and we anticipated opening it to angling as soon as 2013. But this will change those plans for sure. If the barrier does not blow out, we will be able to restock it next year if we feel the habitat can support them. We will need to assess the habitat issues on this stream especially, since it was burned so intensely and we anticipate some severe issues.

WJ - I was glad to see that the upper (wilderness) portion of the West Fork LCR was spared by the fire. How did the South Fork and East Fork of the LCR come out?

ML - I too was happy to see the West Fork LCR come out untouched by the fire, at least upstream of Sheep's Crossing. Downstream between Sheep's and Greer has some burn, but mostly low intensity and very small portion of the stream. So the entire West Fork LCR should be okay.

The South Fork LCR was burned fairly well. We have already documented a fish kill in that stream due to a couple ash flows in early July. The barriers are still intact, but the trout were hit pretty hard. If the barriers remain intact, we should be able to restock that stream next year to get that Apache trout population started again. If the barriers blow out, it will take longer to repair the barriers before restocking.

The East Fork LCR was a mixed bag. The Apache trout population is located entirely upstream of Hwy 273 and was untouched by the fire. The lower portion just upstream of Greer was burned very intensely. We documented a fish kill in that lower portion right after the fire and prior to the monsoon rains, which is very unusual. Normally fish kills do not occur until the ash begins washing into the stream. But the area I saw was nuked to the very edge of the stream, including the willows on the banks. Initial ash flows have come down through the East Fork, through the LCR in Greer and into River Reservoir. So far, it was not enough to cause any fish kills in the LCR or River Reservoir, but that potential still exists.

A big thanks to Mike Lopez for taking the time out of his schedule to fill us in on how the White Mountain trout streams are faring! Keep up the good work Mike.

Book Review: Travers Corners

2011-07-20T08:44:00.000-06:00

Over the past couple of months I've greatly enjoyed reading the Travers Corners trilogy of books by Scott Waldie. The first book in the series was published in 1997, while the third and final installment came in 2005.

All three books in the series are comprised of a collection of short stories revolving around life in the fictional Montana town of Travers Corners. Each chapter's story is well encapsulated, an appreciable feature for readers who return to the books after extended absences. A cast of lovable characters (and the occasional out-of-town interloper) is expertly woven throughout the series, providing a degree of commonality to each of the stories.

Judson Clark is the main character throughout the books, he's immediately endearing - familiar even. Jud is a middle age bachelor, a builder of custom drift boats, a fly fishing guide, a hopeless romantic, and a kind-hearted man. Jud loves nothing more than spending a summer day fishing the meadows of Carrie Creek, casting dry flies to rising trout with Annie the Wonderlab at his side.

The series is categorized as fiction, but I have a hunch that much of the material is loosely based upon reality. Waldie was a longtime fly fishing guide and outfitter based out of Sheridan, a small town in Montana's Ruby Valley - it isn't too much of a stretch to make the assumption that Sheridan and Travers are one and the same. There is also speculation that the books are based upon Twin Bridges, a community just down the road from Sheridan.

The book is nostalgic and comfortable reading, harking to a simpler time and place: small town Montana.

You Should Have Been Here Yesterday

2011-07-15T10:13:00.002-06:00

If you can get here today that might cut it, but yesterday was better. You definitely should have been here yesterday. Here being the upper Madison River, where the combination of salmonflies and gluttonous trout made for a memorable summer day. Yesterday.

AZ Redux, Part II

2011-07-10T18:32:00.003-06:00

Bass water on the lower Black River.

Despite watching the smoke plume build on June 2nd, Matt and I still weren't aware of just how large and dangerous the Wallow Fire had become. A couple of quick phone calls confirmed my worst fears, the fire had grown out of control and wide scale forest closures were being enacted. Over the course of twenty-four hours from June 1st to June 2nd the fire absolutely exploded, going from 6,699 acres to 40,509 acres. For months we'd been looking forward to spending a few days in the upper Black River watershed, but it wasn't going to happen on this trip.

Mouthful of feathers.

We poured over maps in search of a Plan B. After a couple of beers from the cooler and a great deal of deliberation we decided to leave the high country and head for the lower portion of the Black River. This proved to be a solid decision as the fishing was very good. The smallmouth bass were happy to hammer a black Circus Peanut all day long. We caught scores of bass, most in the one pound class, but a few of two pounds or more kept things interesting, as did the streamside rattlers.

The following day was the 5th day of the trip, and in a strange twist of circumstances, a cute Montana gal that my buddy is keen on was visiting family in Phoenix. We met her halfway and spent a fun day relaxing on the Salt River above Roosevelt. I left the love birds to themselves for a couple of hours and did some fishing, it was as unproductive as could be - hopefully Matt had a little more action.

Matt on spotter duty at Canyon Creek.

That afternoon we drove the scenic Young Road en route to Haigler Creek, where we fished for a few hours before camping along the creek for the night. We dined like kings that night, feasting on grilled rib-eye steaks and fresh, boiled crayfish from Haigler Creek. The morning found us on Canyon Creek, a day that was easily the highlight of the trip for me. I hadn't visited the fishery in a few years and it was great to see how well it has recovered from the Rodeo-Chediski Fire of 2002. The fishing proved very challenging, but that was simply a result of our limitations as anglers. We caught several trout, mostly on dries, but the big browns that were visible in the creek proved uncatchable for us. At one point we spent a couple of hours taking turns futilely sight fishing to a couple of 20"+ browns in a deep pool. We threw everything in our boxes at them, to no avail. On more than one occasion the person in the elevated spotter position confirmed that the caster's flies were in fact hitting the trout in the nose - how's that for tight lipped?

We should have stuck around Canyon Creek until dusk, I'm sure the browns would have let their guard down a bit in the low light. Instead we headed back to the valley, arriving late and tired. We had plans to meet up with a friend, Cinda, for a little urban carp fishing the following morning.

A bit of urban action to close out the trip.

We got to the ponds early enough to leave us with a couple hours of fishing time before Matt had to catch a flight. The morning started off slow, our sight fishing efforts hindered by an algae bloom in the ponds. And then it happened, we got into a school of large, aggressive koi - within less than a minute we were tripled up... too bad there was nobody around to get a picture of that! The rest of the morning was spent focusing on getting into grass carp... Matt and I both had shots at large fish, but neither of us brought a grassie to hand. It was a shame that we had to leave, as the carp were becoming increasingly active as the day progressed. Cinda stayed and fished after we left, and wouldn't you know it, I got a picture of a big grass carp via text message within an hour.

It was a great trip back to Arizona,despite the change of plans due to the Wallow Fire. We fished hard for 5 days and saw a lot of beautiful country. Matt was able to check a few species off his list and he got a taste of summer before heading to New Zealand - and more winter - to teach skiing for the summer. We're already planning another Arizona trip for the near future, possibly to some remote fisheries within the Grand Canyon, or to Lee's Ferry, or the upper Black, or Bonito, or Chevelon, or Lake Powell... so many places, so little time.

Ted Turner

2011-06-29T13:29:00.006-06:00

Ted Turner is a polarizing figure in Montana, most folks either love him or hate him. He's a rich and powerful man who owns some prime Big Sky real estate, his private holdings scattered throughout the country make him the largest individual landowner in the nation. Every acre of his empire is gated and locked - shielding him from the unwashed masses. It is that very fact that draws the ire of many Montanans. Yet Ted Turner is doing nothing differently in regard to public access than are thousands of other private land owners across the state, and throughout the U.S. for that matter.

It's his land, to do with what he pleases. And what he is doing with his land is interesting: he's creating native fish and wildlife sanctuaries - with an eye toward both conservation and profitability.

A project to restore native westslope cutthroat trout on his massive Flying D Ranch in southwest Montana created quite a stir last summer. The project restored 65+ miles of the Cherry Creek drainage for westslope cutts. The angling public wasn't exactly thrilled about a large scale (est. $500,000) restoration project on private land (with no public access) involving Trout Unlimited and Montana Fish, Wildlife & Parks. Adding fuel to the fire was the fact that fisheries biologists botched the application of pisticide in the creek (a Madison River tributary), resulting in massive, unintended trout die-offs downstream from the project area.

And so it was with great interest that I read a feature article in the current issue of TROUT magazine titled, "Ted and Trout". The article discusses the man's, "Quest to create native trout strongholds in the west." The Cherry Creek project was certainly in that vein, and effectively resulted in a ten-fold increase in the amount of occupied westslope cutthroat habitat in the upper Missouri River Basin. That's significant and should be applauded, as should the fact that Turner picked up the vast majority of the tab for the project.

It's highly unlikely that you or I will ever have an opportunity to fish for westslope cutthroat on Turner's Flying D Ranch. Even so, this project benefits us - as anglers - by helping to solidify the viability of westslope cutthroat in Montana, both now and into the future.

The View

2011-06-23T12:02:00.018-06:00

Yesterday was spent along the banks of a lake in the Gallatin Range, a body of water immortalized within the pages of a John Gierach classic.

It was an unhurried summer day spent soaking up the summer sun, lazing in the shade of tall pines and futilely casting flies to big cutt-bows. Futile doesn't begin to describe the fishing, much the way big doesn't adequately convey the size of the trout.

There are days that require little more of fishermen than simply showing up, this wasn't one of them. There are days that require little more of trout than simply fueling a fisherman's dreams, this was one of them. Not a trout was touched, yet the fisherman was thankful for much.

A large cutthroat/rainbow trout hybrid provides a taunting glimpse.

AZ Redux, Part I

2011-06-18T15:36:00.012-06:00


Matt with his first ever Apache trout.

As good as the fly fishing in Montana is, I still miss the intimate little trout streams that I grew up fishing in Arizona. In an ideal world I'd be able to split my time between the two states, dwelling in the desert for most of the winter and heading north come summer; for now I make do with timely forays to Arizona.

The Grand Canyon State isn't an exotic, sexy fishing destination such as New Zealand, Patagonia or any number of saltwater flats, but it's good enough for this fisherman. During the brutal cold of a Montana winter, I can board a flight south and in three hours time be basking in seventy degree sunshine. For far less than it would cost to drive, a direct flight from Bozeman to Mesa in June will put me within easy striking distance of gin clear trout streams, while Montana's rivers are hopelessly mired in runoff.

And so it was this year, in late May my friend Matt and I left a cool, muddy Montana for a hot, dry Arizona. We had six glorious days of fly fishing ahead of us, and an ambitious itinerary that would have us fishing some of the state's best trout water within the Black, Little Colorado and White River watersheds.

Ants, beetles, hoppers... they all brought fish to the surface.

The trip began according to plan with my Dad accompanying us for a day at Christmas Tree Lake. This little high elevation lake is an excellent Apache trout fishery year in and year out. The lake is located on the White Mountain Apache Reservation and the tribe limits fishing pressure on the lake to twenty rods per day. Christmas Tree Lake's population of Apache trout is comprised almost entirely of hatchery fish, but they are big, beautiful representatives of the species - they also like to eat dry flies. Despite extremely windy conditions, we each managed numerous Apache trout in the 15- to 18- inch range, often by casting to sighted fish cruising the weed beds.

Wallow Fire, 6-1-2011

As the wind howled that afternoon I watched the eastern skyline in horror. A human caused wildfire had started a couple of days prior in the Bear Wallow Wilderness Area, south of the Black River. By the following day the fire had grown from 6,699 acres to 40,509, the fire's towering smoke plume was a fearsome sight. Needless to say, our plans for the remainder of the trip were significantly altered. As I write this the fire is 38% contained and is still growing due to continued red-flag fire conditions. The Wallow Fire has now consumed a shocking 500,409 acres, making it Arizona's largest wildfire in modern history.

Canyon Creek, in all its post fire glory.

It was somewhat fitting that the last day of our trip found us fishing Canyon Creek, a Mogollon Rim trout fishery that was ravaged by the massive Rodeo-Chediski Fire of 2002. The R-C Fire annihilated the trout fishery, which was one of Arizona's best brown trout streams at that time. I fished the creek back in 2006, not long after it was re-opened to fishing after extensive post-fire rehabilitation work, it fished well, but was merely a shadow of its former self. Now, nine years after the fire, the restorative power of nature is on full display at Canyon Creek. This little stream is better than it ever was prior to the fire. Today it's an extremely fertile fishery that is chock-full of aquatic vegetation, insects and trout. With any luck the fisheries impacted by the Wallow Fire will come back as strong as Canyon Creek has.

I'll share some of the experiences from the rest of our time in AZ in an upcoming report.

Great Expectations

2011-05-23T14:37:00.019-06:00

It's not often that the third Saturday in May finds me highly optimistic about fly fishing in Montana, but May 21, 2011 was different. The third Saturday of the month is opening day of the state's general fishing season, it's also a date that typically finds the state's streams and rivers swollen with snowmelt.

My optimism for this year's opening day was twofold: runoff was lagging behind schedule, and a friend and I had plans to fish a mysterious little creek in a high elevation mountain valley. The fishery has intrigued me over the years, it's a stream that piques my curiosity more so than any other in Montana. The location is not well known and is shrouded in secrecy. A combination of hearsay and first hand experiences (failures) have taught me that timing is everything on this stream. Time it right and you might catch the biggest cutthroat of your life, mistime it and you'll be left wondering what could have been.

With a week of cool weather preceding this year's opener, we hoped that stream flows would be dropping and clearing, creating ideal fishing conditions. Above all else, we hoped that the creek's phantom cutthroat would be present.

Opening morning found us with miles of stream all to our lonesome, save for the grizzlies and moose that roamed the dense streamside willows. The creek wasn't gin clear, but it had enough visibility to provide us with a bit of confidence as we worked the water with big streamers.

The cutthroat were there, they were big, they were plentiful and they were not pushovers - everything we could have hoped for. Between the two of us we landed just three cutts, but it was enough - the legend lives on.

Skwala Fever on the Gallatin

2011-05-06T08:00:00.027-06:00

A skwala dry separated the men from the boys on the Gallatin R.

It's a mild fever, but a fever none the less. My infatuation with the Gallatin River skwala hatch was further validated yesterday. I wandered out to the river behind the house at about 11am, intending to fish through an extended lunch break - after all with runoff overdue this could have been my last opportunity. I was lazy and didn't feel like re-rigging so I went with the black circus peanut that was already affixed to my line (and which had been killer on the Gallatin two days prior). I worked the heavily structured banks hard, but got no tugs and just one half-hearted chase. I then switched over to a double nymph rig, promptly catching a whitefish on a new prototype worm I've been working on (highly technical fly tying), so that was exciting. It was at about this point that I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Craning my neck for a better look, I found that I'd picked up a hitchhiker, an adult skwala stonefly (1 of 3 that I saw over the next hour)! This event, combined with the growing numbers of March browns hatching, convinced me to switch over to a dry fly rig.

I lengthened my leader, tied on a Gould's half down skwala, tied on another length of tippet and finally knotted on a March brown sparkle dun, size 14. That's four knots! And through all of this I was fighting the distraction brought on by the fact that the trout had finally realized that there were large mayflies all over the surface; breaking my concentration with every splashy rise.

The fishing was amazing for about two hours, until the March brown emergence petered out. I took a dozen or more fish on the sparkle dun, and two on the skwala. You may wonder how two fish validated my infatuation with the skwala hatch? It's simple, size. The fish that I found up and rising to March browns were of modest proportions, generally 10- to 14-inches. The fish that took the stonefly stretched to 17-18 inches, large fish by Gallatin River standards. Validation.

Keep Stocking 'Em

2011-05-04T12:25:00.002-06:00

A stocked rainbow is released back into a - gasp - Montana river.

Say what you will about stocked trout, but don't underestimate their importance to the pastime of fishing. The vast majority of the wild, stream born trout that we fish for today have a lineage that can be traced to hatcheries. Many a budding young angler's first trout was a stocked fish. Some regions of the country wouldn't even have trout fisheries if it weren't for hatchery fish - and believe it or not, many highly esteemed wild trout strongholds like Montana currently benefit from trout stockings.

And yet the state of Arizona could potentially lose its allocation of the Sport Fish Restoration funds that support the state's hatchery programs. If the trout stocking program in the Grand Canyon State is reduced or eliminated, it would be devastating to the state's trout fisheries. Recruitment of younger generations of anglers would undoubtedly suffer due to reduced opportunity. Local economies would feel the effects of fewer visiting anglers. The state's remaining fisheries (including its beloved wild brown trout streams) would experience more angling pressure.

Here is some background on the issue from the AZ Game & Fish (AGFD) website:

Under the National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA), federal agencies are required to analyze potential environmental effects of any action they propose to implement, approve, or fund. Because AGFD receives federal funds [$7 million in 2011] used to support its stocking program (along with state funds from the sale of licenses and trout stamps), the agency is required to complete an environmental assessment process to allow it to continue receiving those federal funds. This draft EA is a part of the federally required NEPA compliance.

“In a way, we do a balancing act,” said AGFD Fisheries Chief Kirk Young. “On one hand, Game and Fish wants to provide the public with enjoyable fishing opportunities, which create a huge economic benefit to the state. Yet on the other hand, as a wildlife agency, we also need to consider and manage for the needs of nongame and threatened and endangered wildlife, including native fish. Our proposed conservation and mitigation measures enable us to do that.”


AZ's Oak Creek - one of 66 fisheries effected by the "Reduced Stocking Alt."

Considering the current emphasis on native species restoration, it shouldn't be assumed that this EA process is just a formality and that the status quo will be maintained. The EA introduces three options including a Proposed Action which would maintain the current stocking regime and hatchery funding, but the EA also outlines two Proposed Alternatives - each of which call for varying degrees of stocking reduction/elimination in Arizona.

If you'd like to see the trout stocking program in Arizona continue, submit a comment supporting the Proposed Action by May 11th. You can find a link to the EA here: http://www.azgfd.gov/h_f/fishea.shtml

Double or Nothing

2011-04-25T10:01:00.009-06:00

A Gallatin River brown trout, taken on a #8 Gould's Half Down Skwala.

I've had a strange infatuation with the skwala stonefly hatch on the Gallatin River this spring. I saw my first Gallatin skwala on March 24th, a lone stonefly scurrying along the bank. Since then I haven't seen another confirmed skwala, although I'm fairly certain that I've seen a few in flight. I've talked with local anglers who have knowledge of the hatch, and who provided me with motivation to fish it - sparse as it may be. And then there was the surprising photo that a friend took on the lower Gallatin two weeks ago - within the frame of which there were a dozen skwalas.

The cold, wet spring weather that we've endured in Montana over the past few weeks finally gave way to warm, sunny conditions this weekend. Despite not having heard of any skwala sightings on the river in over a week, I decided to give it a shot Saturday afternoon. My hope was that even if the hatch had passed, maybe the fish would still recognize and take a skwala, much the way they will take a salmonfly a week after that hatch.

I went with a tandem dry fly set-up, trailing a Gould's half down skwala with a sparkle dun. I was all in on the dry fly game, double or nothing. The first take caught me totally off guard, six months of rust with a dry fly was in evidence. Over the course of the next couple of hours I slowly found my timing and brought a few browns to hand, all of which took the skwala dry. Sure, I likely could have caught dozens of fish - and larger fish - if I had nymphed, but catching a few trout on a big dry fly in April was just the payoff I was looking for.

Spring Fling

2011-04-19T11:06:00.003-06:00

April 18th, 2011 - "spring" fishing on the Yellowstone River.

Spring is a fickle season in Montana, providing hope one day and utter despair the next. The past couple of days have been a perfect example of that, with the early wildflowers and fresh shoots of green grass covered by a few inches of heavy, wet snow.

From a fishing standpoint spring is a welcome season, albeit a brief one. Some of my favorite rivers are already in the throes of runoff - and the abundant mountain snowpack will soon inundate every river in the state. But for now - and perhaps for a couple of more weeks - the fishing is good. The days are growing longer, insects are hatching, and the trout are actively feeding.

A solid 18" brown puts a bend in the rod.

Yesterday I floated the Yellowstone River with Brady and Jesse, the day started out promising with fish taking an assortment of streamers (stripped and drifted), stonefly nymphs, soft hackles and aquatic annelids (Google it). And then the wind came up - and stayed up. Our fearless skipper got quite a workout as he rowed against a relentless headwind all afternoon - the type of wind that the Livingston area is infamous for. Through it all the fishing remained good, baetis were hatching and we had the river to ourselves (go figure).

A beautiful Gallatin River brown - taken on a streamer.

Knowing that runoff is just around the corner, I've been fishing at every opportunity. Last week I had a chance to fish the Gallatin River with Josh, after a fly fishing related community service project that I helped him out on. We worked upstream from Gallatin Gateway and had good fishing all afternoon on nymphs, and streamers worked tight to structure. Saturday again found me on the Gallatin River, fishing a favorite stretch of the valley with Matt. On this day I quickly grew impatient with the mildly productive nymph fishing and switched over to a mildly productive streamer, and later to an all together unproductive skawla dry fly. But it was great to get out on the water again with a friend who had been lost to the ski slopes (and ski bunnies) all winter.

Good eats.

And speaking of skwalas, check out this photo that my friend Jesse took in SW Montana about a week ago! And no, this isn't on the Bitterroot (or anywhere near it).

MT Fishing Annual

2011-04-06T15:15:00.003-06:00

I just came across Montana FWP's 2011 Annual Fishing Newsletter, which provides a good deal of up to date information about many of the state's sport fisheries. After looking through the report, I came away with a few new destinations that I'd like to check out this year. The newsletter is available online in an eBook version, check it out here.

Bricks & Mortar, Heart & Soul

2011-03-30T12:20:00.001-06:00

Downtown Flagstaff won't be quite the same without Babbit's fly shop.

Local fly shops are indispensable. From any perspective - angler, manufacturer, guide, rep, etc. - they're an integral part of fly fishing. Without them where would we be?

Anglers in Northern Arizona will soon have an opportunity to find out. Flagstaff's one and only dedicated fly shop, Babbit's Fly Fishing, is closing its doors.

I took the news hard. It was a shop that I frequented in college, when I was wet behind the ears. During my years at the Grand Canyon, Babbit's was still my local shop - being just eighty miles down the road. I was always on a tight budget, but I bought what I needed from them. In turn the guys at the shop were always there to answer my questions, provide beta on the local streams and swap stories with.

I tried calling the shop today, hoping to speak with Paul - the shop's longtime manager - about the store's closing, but the number had already been disconnected. It's purely speculation on my part, but it seems a pretty safe bet that the shop is closing for financial reasons. Between the recession and the fact that more and more anglers are making their purchases online, it'd be awfully tough to keep a fly shop out of the red these days - particularly in a non-destination location such as Flagstaff.

Local, independent fly shops are the heart and soul of the fly fishing industry. To those of you who are doing all of your shopping at the local big box sporting goods stores and online retailers - shame on you, support your local fly shop!

Early Stonefly

2011-03-24T14:23:00.011-06:00

During a brief, non-fishing lunch break behind the house today I was excited to find a large, adult stonefly scurrying along the neighbor's riverside rip-rap. After nothing but midges in these parts for the past few months, this size 8-10 monster was great to see.

My assumption is that it's a skwala, but I'm not positive - maybe someone can confirm it for me. Although it was just a single stonefly, you can bet I'll be throwing some large dries this weekend.

If I lived on the Bitterroot River this sighting would be commonplace, but on the Gallatin it's fairly newsworthy - particularly this early in the year.

In Focus

2011-03-13T23:40:00.004-06:00

For better or worse, it seems that good photographs are a dime a dozen these days. Digital cameras have leveled the playing field to a large degree. For a number of reasons, I miss the old days of transparencies, lightboxes and loupes. In fact I never parted with my trusty old N90s, and I still have a stash of Velvia 100 tucked away in the freezer for days when I'm feeling nostalgic.

Don't get me wrong, I fully appreciate and utilize the many benefits of digital photography - one of which is the ease of sharing and transmitting images. I recently updated my photo website with about one hundred images from the past few months...the vast majority of the photos are fly fishing related. If you have some time to kill, take a gander - with any luck they'll provide you with some angling inspiration.

If you feel that any of my photos are worth more than a dime a dozen, I'm offering signed and matted prints upon request. www.willjordanphoto.com

Slump Buster

2011-03-10T11:41:00.002-07:00

The action has been a little slow for me lately; truth be told there was a stretch there where I didn’t get any for longer than I’d like to admit. We’ve all been there, right? I consoled myself with the notion that it can happen to the best of 'em. But as the dry spell wore on, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was off my game. Self-doubt was rearing its ugly head, I was questioning my methods, my approach and - at my lowest point - my motivation. I soldiered on, putting faith in the most rudimentary of tactics: persistence. Dogged determination paid off here and there, but the results weren't pretty; what little I was getting wasn't anything to brag about. My buddies were hooking up left and right with the local talent, but living vicariously through them only went so far - I needed to get in on the action.

The slump buster comes in many forms, mine just so happened to be a beautiful trout.

Fortunately my luck finally improved this week, providing me with reassurance that I can still catch trout (that's right, despite the innuendo and possible parallels with other facets of my life, this is an account of my recent fishing struggles). I'd been skunked on two consecutive outings in recent weeks, once on the Missouri and once on the upper Clark Fork. The latter was a particularly tough pill to swallow since I couldn't use the weather as an excuse, and the guys I was with were doing very well on a variety of flies. I chalked it up to my inexperience on the fishery, and left it at that.

I didn't have to dwell on my shortcomings for too awfully long. Temperatures soared into the 40's this week, giving me just the excuse I needed to get back out on the water. Reports of good fishing on the lower Madison proved accurate as I caught multiple trout at each of a few favorite holes in Bear Trap Canyon. The fish were greedily munching red midge pupa, and pink soft hackles. The wind was absolutely ripping, but I wasn't going to let it ruin the first good day of fishing I'd had in quite some time. The best fish of the day was a beautiful 18 inch rainbow, caught by my buddy of course, but even I managed to catch numerous trout in the 12 to 16 inch range. It appears my slump is over, and just in time for some great spring fishing.

Yin and Yang

2011-02-17T10:45:00.006-07:00

The snowpack - it is what it is. And what it is, is good in Montana and dismal in Arizona. La Nina is in full effect this year.

I'm looking forward to lots of fishing in both states this summer. Water conditions are looking good - maybe too good - for a planned float of the S. Fork Flathead River in July, but less so for a tour of the White Mountains in June.

It is snowing in the Gallatin Valley as I type this...I wish I could send some of it south.

Rise Against

2011-02-12T09:03:00.014-07:00

HB 309 - I didn't think it would get this far, it shouldn't have gotten this far.

For those of you who have been living in a cave - or fishing in the Bahamas - for the past week, I'll back up a bit: Montana's stream access is under siege. With its supposed intention of "Clarifying the prohibition of recreational use of water diverted from a natural water body...", HB 309 seems innocent enough, but a closer inspection of the bill's language reveals its inherent evil.

The bill was introduced by Jeffrey Wellburn (R-Dillon) and was supported by an alarming number of our elected officials as the bill made its way through the House of Representatives this week.

I've read the bill and its vague, sterile, political speak, and I've read analysis' of HB 309 from trustworthy organizations that have our interests at heart: Montana Trout Unlimited (TU) and Fishing Outfitters Assoc. of MT (FOAM). The consensus is that this bill is a very real threat to the status quo of stream access in Montana. You can read a thorough dissection of the bill on the websites of those organizations, but the gist of it is that the bill aims to do more than simply clarify the law as it pertains to irrigation ditches. Rather, the bill would broadly define an irrigation ditch as, "Any waterway created at least in part by waters diverted from a natural water body where the diverted water is the principal source of water in the water body."

There's a lot of gray area in that type of language, it could be interpreted in a number of ways. In a worst case scenario the bill's passing would prohibit public fishing on a lengthy list of the state's best water - from small streams to mainstem rivers. Who in their right mind would want that to happen? A couple of private interest groups come to mind, as does one former B-list rock star, a smattering of wealthy landowners, and apparently, a majority of our state representatives.

There are scores of water bodies throughout the state that suffer from low flows during late summer. This situation is exacerbated by - and in some cases rooted in - irrigation out flows. I'll never forget one August day a few years ago when I stopped at Selkirk FAS on the Musselshell - the river was a collection of pools connected by a mere trickle; yet the irrigation ditch paralleling the river was plum full. That is an extreme example, but it's certainly possible that - during periods of low flow - the primary source of in-stream flows on numerous waterways is the return flow from irrigation ditches. HB 309 would define a free flowing river or stream as a "ditch" in such instances.

Looking at the bill from a pragmatic and simple minded angler's perspective, it's completely unnecessary. Assuming that the bill's true intention is to clarify the prohibition of recreation on irrigation ditches, the current stream access law already has that covered. And what's more, who wants to fish a ditch anyway? I can't imagine it really being an issue for landowners.

The bill - and our collective fate - now rests in the hands of the state senate. Whether you live in Montana or not, contact your senator... any MT senator... a republican senator. Should the bill pass the senate, our last line of defense against HB 309 lies in a veto from Governor Brian Schweitzer, but let's not allow it to get that far.

If you don't think this is a big deal, think again - and if you need a second opinion just ask any Utah angler.

Slow & Low

2011-02-04T18:44:00.001-07:00

It's not always pretty, or pleasant, but despite the winter freeze there's still some fly fishing being done in these parts.

Pinks and oranges...the rounder (or more worm-like) the better. Midges if you're lucky. Lead, indicators and open loops. Whitefish for the smoker. Botched forecasts, iced guides and peeling fingertips.

Solitude.

And, believe it or not, some pretty good trout fishing.

The lower Gallatin River on a frosty morning.

A productive arsenal of winter "flies".

Wylie showing us how it's done on the East.

Nothing like a little burning driftwood to warm the bones.

The payoff.

Ongoing Education

2011-01-24T10:40:00.000-07:00

Brooks, Galloup, LaFontaine, Marinaro, Mathews, Troth, Wulff, et al, fly fishermen who have questioned conventional angling wisdom, pushed the boundaries and - perhaps most importantly - shared their knowledge. These legends, among others, have contributed greatly to the furthering of the sport. They've developed and implemented many of the theories and techniques that the rest of us have glommed onto, and that we've caught more fish as a result of.

Many of these names are from a bygone era of innovators, anglers who weren't satisfied with the status quo. Following in their footsteps are the modern day masters who have brought us refined and revolutionary flies and angling techniques.

Living in Montana exposes the average angler to a wealth of fly fishing knowledge. Even in Montana, or perhaps especially in Montana, the fly fishing community is fairly small and tight-knit. Opportunities to meet and talk with true legends in the sport aren't uncommon. One Bozeman fly shop, Montana Troutfitters, is providing just such opportunities this winter. In their annual "weekends with the legends" series, anglers have an opportunity to learn from some of the best.

This Saturday I made a point of getting over to the shop to listen to Tim Tollett. There was a good turn out for his three hour presentation, in fact it was standing room only by the time I arrived. Tim is from Dillon, Montana and is the owner and operator of Frontier Anglers. I've corresponded with Tim a bit over the past couple of years, he'd recently provided me with some invaluable information about Poindexter Slough - a public spring creek in the Dillon area. From that correspondence it was obvious that Tim knew his stuff, but until Saturday I had little idea just how knowledgeable the man is in the ways of trout.

It was a truly humbling couple of hours spent trying to absorb the wealth of knowledge that he was sharing. It is at times like these when I realize just how little I really know about fly fishing, entomology and trout behavior. While tying up some innovative cranefly and midge patterns that he uses on the Beaverhead River, Tim told stories about fishing with legends Al Troth and Lee Wulff. Did you know that flashback nymphs were first introduced to anglers in the United States by Tim? He brought the flashback wingcase to the states much the way Tom Rosenbauer brought the beadhead onto the scene - by seeing it used overseas and recognizing the significance it could have for American anglers.

All in all it made for a pretty nice little Saturday. I'm looking forward to next week's presentation and learning all I can from Mike Lawson.

Location, location, location...

2011-01-05T15:42:00.002-07:00

$3 Bridge on the Madison River - a world class fishing location.

Is an angler's success contingent primarily upon location, or does ability play a larger role in the number and size of fish caught?

I realize that it's not black and white and that a combination of the two are what lead to success on the water, but which is more important? The source of my pondering is the trophy brown trout that a friend caught over the holidays. He caught the trout at a location that I gave him the scoop on. The river holds some large trout, but based on my limited experience it is a fishery that can be very challenging - requiring a high skill level in order to be successful. My friend's ability to stroll up and catch a big brown, virtually on-sight, makes me wonder if the river is a better fishery than I thought, or if my friend is a better angler than I thought. It's impossible to say really, at least until some further field research is conducted.


Are trout of this size caught primarily as a result of skill or location?

Montana is a fly fishing location that is famous for its trout fisheries, yet within the state there are variances in quality amongst fisheries. For example, I feel that I could fish Montana's Gallatin River for a lifetime and probably never catch a 25" trout. Yet I'm confident that, given time, I could catch such a trout on the neighboring Madison or Yellowstone rivers.

Of course for all I know there may be skilled anglers catching 25" plus trout from the Gallatin every year. As anglers, are we better off continuously honing our skills, or traveling far and wide in a never ending quest for exceptional fisheries? The conclusion that I have reached is that once an angler acquires a fundamental skill set in fly fishing, location becomes paramount. My thinking is that an average angler is better off on a great fishery than a great angler on an average fishery. Of course if I ever catch that 25" trout on the Gallatin I may feel differently.

The Yaak

2010-12-22T12:02:00.005-07:00

Montana's Yaak River country is one of those places that you don't hear much about, but what you do hear is usually the stuff legends are made of. The watershed is home to native bull and redband trout and, as rumor has it, some large brook trout. It's remote, wild country - I've even heard tales of woodland caribou making occasional forays into the area.

I look forward to the day that I'm able to visit The Yaak, until then I'll continue to live vicariously through those who have experienced it. One such person is Tom Reed, who recently visited the region as part of a collaborative project between Trout Unlimited and Field & Stream entitled, "Best Wild Places". In a multi-part series, Tom is sharing his Yaak experience on the F&S website.

Under the Weather

2010-12-17T07:01:00.002-07:00

Lying on the river bank, curled up in the fetal position and crying for my Mother I told myself to buck up, but it was to no avail. Soon the next wave of nausea overtook me and I violently expelled the contents of my stomach - for the umpteenth time that day. Wrapped in every layer of down and fleece available, I tried to talk myself into the notion that I'd rather be sick on a river bank than at home in bed. That's a tough sell on a gray December day in Montana. Hugging the dying embers of a lackluster fire, I endured the misery as long as I could. My comrade fished on, but his catch rate was providing me with little motivation to brave the strong, cold current on shaky legs. Shouting feebly over the noise of the river I tried to make myself useful, calling out well intended instructions: "mend" and "set". Dehydrated and exhausted I finally got to my feet, knowing full well that I might need every minute of remaining daylight to make the 1.5 mile hike back to the truck.

It wasn't the most enjoyable day I've ever spent on the water. But what was enjoyable was the sherbet ice cream, and lemon/lime Gatorade that I scored at a Town Pump station on the ride home, remedies that my Mom used to give me when I was sick as a kid. Seemingly on the mend now that I was able to hold down some much needed sustenance, I was able slip into a more pleasant mind state for the remainder of the drive home - reminiscing about recent fishing trips.

I've already fished more this winter than I ever have during this time of year. The fishing has been good, not a July kind of good, but good. Fishing buddies who really enjoy winter fishing have prodded me out into the cold, icy conditions. Not surprisingly, we've had the rivers - and plenty of cooperative trout - all to ourselves for the past month. It's mostly been a tailwater affair this winter, but our recent warm-up (three consecutive days with highs hitting 40 or more) made many freestones fishable as well. In fact the Gallatin River behind my home had been 80-90% ice covered since the Thanksgiving cold snap, early this week it opened up completely! Productive flies have included black stonefly nymphs, golden stonefly nymphs, sowbugs, and of course worm and egg imitations.

Here are a few photos from outings over the past couple of weeks:

Gray Wolf Recovery Interview w/ Ed Bangs

2010-12-10T10:36:00.006-07:00

Anyone living in the Northern Rockies is certainly aware of the ongoing controversy surrounding the management and protection of gray wolves. It's a big deal. The topic isn't only of importance to folks with a vested interest in the livestock or hunting industries. Everyone seems to have an opinion on how wolves should be managed - and that's just it - they must be managed. I'm all for the long-term presence of a sustainable population of wolves in the MT backcountry, but they shouldn't be allowed to run rampant - leaving a trail of carnage and depredation in their wake. Wolves are efficient, wanton killers and left unchecked they will continue to devastate ungulate populations throughout the Rockies. That wasn't the goal of recovering the gray wolf in the Northern Rockies - and make no mistake, they are recovered.

The current issue of Montana Sporting Journal features a fascinating interview with Ed Bangs, the Wolf Recovery Coordinator for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service since the beginning of the gray wolf reintroduction in 1995. The issue of gray wolves in the Northern Rockies is a polarizing subject, but Bangs brings a unique perspective - he's a hunter himself, yet is probably as pro-wolf as anyone. The full interview is free to read by clicking here.

Here are a couple of excerpts from responses that Bangs provided in the interview:

"We predicted the wolf population would grow about 22% a year and it did. But I am surprised that we now have over 1,700 wolves. I believed (and still do) that the Northern Rocky Mountains will not be able to sustain that many wolves long-term."

"I have always believed that the best way to conserve a recovered wolf population was management by professional state and tribal-led agencies just like is done for mountain lions, black bears, deer, elk, etc."

DHM - A Rising Star

2010-12-03T18:17:00.006-07:00

The Diamond Hair Minnow. (Photo: www.azflyfishing.net)

Everyone likes an underdog, and just such a story has emerged from my streamer box in 2010. Take a glimpse into my overstuffed Cliff's Bugger Barn and you'll find perennial standouts, streamers that any trout fisherman can readily identify: Zonkers, Muddlers, Bow River Buggers, Zoo Cougars, Sex Dungeons, Clousers, JJs, etc. And then there is my collection of Diamond Hair Minnows, an overshadowed, unheralded and little known streamer that has worked its way into my starting line up.

This sleek little baitfish pattern is one that I was introduced to years ago, when I was living in Arizona. The pattern was developed by John Rohmer, a fly fishing legend of the Grand Canyon State. John not only developed the pattern, but also the Diamond Hair material itself, which he sells through his tying materials business at www.azflyfishing.net - check it out.

A 24" brown that recently fell for a DHM.

It took me years to appreciate the pattern. I'd long kept a few DHMs stashed in my fly box, but I rarely gave the fly enough playing time to rack up any meaningful stats. That all changed one day late in the '09 season. Down big with little time remaining, I pulled my starters and called upon the DHM. It was a desperation move, but it worked - the result was a solid 23" brown. Since that day the DHM has been one of my go to streamers, and it hasn't disappointed. It's at its best as a finisher. I almost always trail it behind a larger streamer, where it gets eaten instead of the lead fly at least 2/3rds of the time.

The DHM has been compiling trophies - within the past year it has accounted for browns measuring 21.5", 23" and 24". No other single streamer pattern has racked up those kind of stats for me over a similar time span. Put the DHM in your rotation, I'm sure it'll produce for you as well.

Red Rock Browns?

2010-11-23T11:37:00.005-07:00

An article in the current issue of Southwest Fly Fishing magazine really caught my attention. The article is a full-length, destination feature about fly fishing on Lower Oak Creek in Arizona. I've spent a ton of time on Oak Creek, but only on the upper reaches where a quality trout fishery exists.

I've spent very little time exploring Oak Creek downstream of Sedona...or even downstream from Grasshopper Point for that matter. The reason for this is simply that as the stream moves downstream of these locations it transitions into a warm water fishery.

As I expected, the article discussed the smallmouth bass fishery of Lower Oak Creek. What I didn't expect was the article's declaration that this portion of the creek (from Cornville to Sedona) holds, "A surprising number of streamer chasing browns". Hmm. I don't have the article in front of me at the moment, but I seem to remember it even thew out a mention of the author catching 5lb trout here every year!

A few years ago I was told by a local fisheries biologist that a self sustaining population of browns used to exist in Oak Creek as far downstream as Red Rock Crossing, but that a variety of factors (drought, canopy loss, sedimentation, etc.) had combined to make the lower portion of the creek inhospitable to trout. He went on to tell me that the downstream terminus of wild (stream born) trout habitat on Oak Creek these days is Grasshopper Point...give or take a couple of miles depending on water conditions from year to year.

An interesting part of the Lower Oak Creek trout equation is Page Springs. This is a large (24 cfs), 68 degree spring that enters the creek well downstream of Sedona. The spring provides the water source for Page Springs Fish Hatchery. At 68 degrees, the spring's water temperature is right at the upper temperature threshold for trout, but is certainly within it. The hatchery cranks out upwards of 700,000 trout per year (mostly rainbows), making it Arizona's largest cold water hatchery.

Yesterday I was traveling from Flagstaff to Phoenix and just happened to have a fly rod and streamer box in the truck. A short detour found me driving along Page Springs Road as it followed the twists and turns of Oak Creek. Due to the infusion of cool water from the spring, I figured that this was as good a place as any to look for browns on Lower Oak Creek. Long story short, I never wet a line. Access was practically non-existent between Page Springs and Cornville - and what's more, the water was running off color from recent rain.

The mystery remains. I'd love to hear if anyone out there has caught a brown from Oak Creek, below Sedona, within the last 10 years - in case you can't tell, I'm highly skeptical.

The Season of Plenty

2010-11-17T09:26:00.010-07:00

Autumn is a time cherished by sportsmen, anglers and hunters alike. Dedicated anglers will find that they increasingly have the streams and rivers to themselves during fall. Here in Montana, archery big game season takes a few rods out of the equation, the pheasant season opener takes many more and the rifle big game season really diverts a good deal of fishing pressure.

I'm one of those guys who tries to do it all. I like to think of myself as a two-sport athlete, perpetually torn between two loves - much the way Bo and Deion were between the gridiron and the baseball diamond.

To make matters worse I work in media sales, an occupation with an extremely heavy fall work load. With companies planning their marketing budgets for the coming year during Q4, it is a crucial time for the lowly salesman as he presents scores of proposals to companies.

Yet, I've had a great fall season. Last week I harvested a mule deer buck in the Missouri River Breaks, a hunt that I was able to share with my Dad. For those interested I've been posting daily accounts from that hunt over on the Montana Sporting Journal blog. I've done a good deal of elk hunting as well, spending a few days in the Crazy Mountains for the season opener, followed by day hunts in the Madison Range when time has allowed. I certainly haven't been fishing as much as I'd like to, but I have had some good days out. A trip to the Ruby not too long ago was enjoyable, a day spent throwing streamers for browns - a few of which even participated. I also did an overnight trip to the Missouri River, where I caught a great brown (22") on a streamer and several nice rainbows drifting a bead set-up - and of course there was the big one that got away. And between all the comings and goings, I've spent some quality time on the Gallatin River during evenings after work. The streamer bite has been consistently good, in fact these evening sessions behind my house have really solidified my belief in the Sex Dungeon, but alas the streamer bite is starting to wane with the colder water temperatures.

In a sense I'm looking forward to things slowing down a bit soon, and to doing more fishing. I've reluctantly had to turn down recent invites from friends to go fishing! Then again, upland bird season stretches through the New Year, and waterfowl beyond that. I've already got a December pheasant hunting trip to eastern MT on the calendar...and so it goes.

Here's to making the most of the fall season.

The Prodigy

2010-10-20T20:24:00.004-06:00

He's been fly fishing for all of a month. During that span he's spent more time on the water than the average angler does in a year. He already knows more knots than I do. Complete strangers complement his cast. He's starting to ask questions that I don't have the answers to. I'm afraid I've created a monster.

He was the perfect candidate. He loved catching trout on Bozeman area rivers, but he was doing so with crankbaits, spinnners and spoons. To be completely honest, my initial motivation to convert him to fly fishing was largely an attempt to spare the local trout from his treble hooks. I noticed as he listened intently to the fly fishing conversations I held with mutual friends. And so when the day came that he exclaimed, "I wish you'd tell me what the f-ck mending is," I knew it was time.

Before his fancy new Redington rod and reel had even arrived, he'd learned a great deal. He was devouring fly fishing how-to books, absorbing all he could from masters such as Whitlock in the process.

The day his set-up arrived we spent an hour or more working on his cast in the front lawn - in the dark. He cast late into the night, long after I left. The next morning, before the sun had crested the Bridger Range, he was knocking on my front door, bright eyed and ready to go fishing!

We walked out to the river behind my place, where I gave him his first on the water instruction. Line handling gave him fits, but otherwise I was impressed with his intuition for casting, shooting line and mending. A morning that I expected to be nothing more than a glorified casting lesson turned into a fishing trip. He soon hooked, landed and released his first trout on a fly - a flawless wild brown of 15-inches. To top it off he caught it on a dry fly. I don't think I'll ever forget seeing that trout slowly break the surface and inhale his fly. It was perfect. His enthusiasm upon hooking that fish was something to see, STOKED doesn't begin to describe it.

We've fished together a few times since that day, most recently last weekend on the lower Gallatin. It was a classic day of fishing for fall browns under overcast skies. His progress was noticeable. I chucked a huge articulated streamer all day and schooled him (not that we were in competition, but I can't let his ego get too big), and he held his own nymphing with a tandem rig under an indicator.

It's pretty cool watching the progress of someone who you've introduced to the sport of fly fishing.
---
No sooner had I finished writing this than guess who calls? Right, The Prodigy. Before even answering the phone I knew he was calling to give me his fishing report for the day...he spent today fishing a river in Montana that is known for cranking out huge trout on occasion. So the conversation went a little something like this:

Me: Hello.
Prodigy: Are you ready for this?
Me: I'm bracing for it...
Prodigy: I caught a 28.5 inch brown today!!
Me: Shut up, you're kidding right? Right?

Turns out he wasn't kidding. It's too soon for this. Where does a guy go from here?

Congratulations my friend.

Trout Ink

2010-10-14T08:40:00.007-06:00

For those of you who aren't TU members (and why aren't you?!?) click here to read an interesting article in the current issue of Trout Magazine.

I've long given consideration to a fly fishing, trout related tattoo of some sort - Mr. McLeod is providing me with inspiration. I'd probably go with something a little more discreet and abstract, but I've got to give him props.

For those interested, past issues of Trout Magazine are available for reading online at www.tu.org.

Fall Browns: Yea or Nay?

2010-10-07T17:04:00.008-06:00

I grew up fishing in Arizona, a state not well known for its trout fishing. Yet, those who look a bit deeper will find a state containing scores of fantastic wild brown trout streams (see photo at left of my old man with a slab of an AZ brown). These streams are not stocked with browns, their populations are entirely dependent upon natural recruitment. I learned early on the value of these fragile brown trout fisheries. The quality of fisheries such as Chevelon Creek, Diamond Creek, Haigler Creek and many more are almost entirely dependent upon the presence of wild browns. Due to the importance of these trout, there was an unwritten rule amongst anglers: DON'T DISTURB SPAWNING BROWNS!!

With few exceptions (ie: Bright Angel Creek) I adhered to the rule then, as I try to do now. Yet I see fellow anglers - including many which I generally consider to be very ethical - targeting spawning browns in Montana rivers.

So I pose the question: What is your stance on fishing for fall browns?

Whitefish Derby

2010-09-26T17:16:00.001-06:00

As I write this I'm polishing off the last of my stash of a Rocky Mountain delicacy: smoked whitefish. That's right, those spastic salmonids that grace - or disgrace, depending on your point of view - angler's nets throughout the mountain west are downright tasty.

At some point in the last year it came to my attention that the daily limit on whitefish is absurdly high on most Montana rivers. On the Gallatin River for example, the limit is twenty whitefish per person, per day. On other rivers the limit is as high as thirty whitefish. I found this to be ridiculous, after all what would a person possibly do with so many whitefish? And is it even possible to fill the daily quota?

Well last week a buddy and I decided to find out. After putting in an honest eight hours at the home office I met up with Matt at Axtel Bridge on the Gallatin. Our plan was simple: dead-drift tandem bead-head nymph rigs below an indicator until we were delirious...there's no surer way to catch whiteys.

Despite the best of intentions, our whitefish derby started off on the wrong foot. As we left the parking lot at Axtel, double bead-head rigs in tow, we noted several rises below the bridge, followed by scores of rises in the deep run above the bridge. Closer examination revealed some above average size trout rising to a prolific baetis hatch on this cold, cloudy afternoon. You can probably guess what happened next.

After spending a precious hour or so of daylight catching trout on emergers, we finally got back on track. On my first drift with a heavily weighted, bead-head prince/pheasant tail combo, the indicator hesitated and I found a spastic, head shaking whitey on the other end of the line. Instead of releasing this fish as I typically would, it was quickly killed and kept. For the next hour the action was fast and furious, I landed seven or eight whitefish during that time span, along with the occasional brown. Matt wasn't quite so fortunate, his whitefish mojo was lacking. On any other day that wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing, but unfortunately for him we had a friendly wager going: whomever had the fewest whitefish at days end bought the beer that night.

Despite my early lead, things started getting competitive about a half hour before last light. I was up by two fish when we arrived at a long deep run that surely held numerous whitefish. Matt quickly hooked into a toad of a whitey, which I may or may not have intentionally botched the netting job on. I was working hard to maintain my lead, but kept catching pesky browns - one after another. Matt meanwhile had wised up and was netting his own fish, he was in the zone and quickly evened the score. So here we were, tied up with just minutes of daylight remaining. We agreed that the next fish - whitey or trout - would be the tie-breaker and crowning catch. As luck would have it I quickly hooked, landed and released a small brown trout, securing my victory.

After a few photographs to forever immortalize our gluttony, we went to work. Seventeen whitefish had been brought to hand between the two of us in about two hours time. The dirty work done, we prepared a basic brine (1/2 cup salt, 1/2 cup sugar, mixed with a quart of water) and arranged the fillets over apple wood chips in Matt's smoker.

The results far exceeded my expectations. On par with smoked salmon it is not, but smoked whitefish is delicious in its own right.

Smoke 'em if you got 'em.

Discovering Montana

2010-09-19T09:39:00.002-06:00

One of the great things about Montana is the availability of a seemingly infinite number of fisheries to explore. As much as I'd like to fly fish in New Zealand, Kamchatka, and Chile - so too would I like to explore the Tongue, Yaak, and Sun rivers of Montana. My meager travel budget forces my hand...Montana it is, but I'm certainly not complaining.

This week I had an opportunity to spend a day on a fairly remote Montana river that has always intrigued me. The river is definitely not a destination fishery and is fished rather lightly.

The river typically suffers from irrigation demands during summer, but this has been a great water year for most of Montana's rivers, with this watershed being no exception.

The fishery is largely comprised of brown trout, and the fish looked to be in great shape as they transition into fall spawning mode. Browns across a wide range of age classes and sizes were encountered and the river looked very healthy with a good amount of aquatic vegetation and insect life.

We saw no other anglers and only a set or two of boot prints in the mud, which petered out not far from the access point. It was a bluebird day with warm sunshine and a chorus of grasshoppers in the riverside grass. We rigged a rod for streamers and a rod for hoppers. The hopper bite didn't materialize until early afternoon, but once it did it was productive as long as the fly was presented tight to the banks - many of which were significantly undercut. The streamer bite on the other hand was hot from the get go, with fish darting from cover to take our actively retrieved crayfish and sculpin imitations. The two biggest fish of the day (20"+) were taken on a huge Kelly Galloup creation, the Sex Dungeon.

As much as I dream of fishing destinations half a world away, days like this are a great reminder of the world class water that we have right here in Montana.

The Forks

2010-09-12T17:12:00.006-06:00

Fall is in the air in Montana. Those amazing summer evenings spent fishing to rising trout in the arctic twilight until 10pm are but a distant memory. Wet wading opportunities are waning. The mountains are already snow-capped, high elevation aspens are turning to gold and bull elk are gathering their harems. It will soon be time to pull wool and down from storage.

Summer is a fleeting season in Montana to be sure, but it's a season to cherish. As the fall equinox approaches I can't help but assess my summer season. While I'm kicking myself for never making an extended alpine lake trip this summer, I did get in some high elevation tributary fishing - an endeavor best suited to the summer months.

Two trips in particular stand out, both of which took place within the past three weeks or so. I'd fished both of these high elevation tributaries last summer and had vowed to get back again this summer, they are special fisheries.

The first of these trips was to a location that I'll just call the West Fork. It is a doable day trip from Bozeman and that's how it went down. From the Forest Service trailhead, a hike of a few miles reveals a sprawling, high elevation meadow stream that is home to good numbers of nice brown trout. In my limited experience on this fishery, the resident browns are very willing to take dry flies.

We had arrived with high hopes for good hopper fishing, but a cold, rainy day thew a wrench into our plans. A few trout were taken on a small chaos hopper, but the bulk of the action came on emergers and small dries. On this day I refrained from blindly spraying casts - my usual style - and instead sought out rising fish in this spring creek like environment. It was a rewarding day. Later in the afternoon I managed to break away from the meadow and spend some time exploring the pocket water upstream. I was quite surprised to catch the biggest brown of the day from a deep run a good distance above the meadow.

There is talk of trying to get back to the West Fork sometime this fall, but if it doesn't happen I'll look forward to another visit next summer.

More recently I found myself casting over the high elevation, beautiful tonic water of what I'll just call the North Fork. This river is comprised largely of native fishes: westslope cutthroat and bull trout. Bull trout are protected under the Endangered Species Act and targeting them is illegal in this river, however incidental catches can and will occur due to their habitat overlapping with that of the westslope cutthroat.

Based on a singular, but phenomenal experience at the North Fork last summer, I classify this as a first rate cutthroat fishery. This westslope fishery is comprised of a fair numbers of good size fish willing to rise to a dry fly much of the time. That's much of the time, not all of the time. On this recent trip I was a bit surprised to find that the cutts weren't really looking up as they were last year. I was stubborn and stuck with the dry for a few rather unproductive hours while watching my nymph fishing pal catch fish after fish. I begrudgingly switched out the dry fly rig for a halfback and pheasant tail combination drifted deep beneath an indicator - this setup was quickly greeted by the first of many tugs.

There were occasions during this trip when rising fish were spotted and dry flies were called upon, but for the most part we fished below the surface. In addition to attracting scores of nice cutts, we found that an occasional bull trout couldn't turn down a stonefly nymph. I landed a beautiful 18" bull on a stonefly nymph and lost a true giant (25" plus) the same day - a fish so powerful that I felt I was completely at its mercy. Unfortunately some very bad luck intervened a few minutes into the fight when my dropper nymph somehow got hung up. This provided the fish with an opposing source of tension, which it utilized to slip from my hook. What's crazy is that my dropper fly didn't hang up on a rock or submerged log, but rather on a rusty old double beadhead golden stonefly nymph which was already hung up on the stream bottom! What are the odds of that!?! It was a major disappointment to lose that fish, particularly in that manner, but it was amazing to have a connection with it for even a few brief minutes.

Here's to hoping that you found your way to some equally amazing high country fishing this summer.

A Committing Move

2010-08-31T12:12:00.000-06:00

The past few weeks have had me a bit out of sorts. It started with a great visit from my family in AZ, followed by the death of my 8 year old desktop pc (I just got my new computer up and running yesterday) and a big, committing move.

Regarding the latter, I've recently decided to take the next step in my relationship with the Gallatin River; we've moved in together. I've moved into a little (very little) riverside villa in the valley, just outside of town. Friends are questioning my decision and assuming that our free wheeling days of fishing and debauchery together are over. They think that she'll demand all of my time and they warn that I'll grow bored of being with the same river, day after day.

I've done some second guessing, to be sure, but I'm happy with my decision. I'm excited about spending more time with her and about waking up next to her every morning. I've assured the naysayers that nothing has changed in regard to the arrangement of the relationship that she and I keep. She still sees others, a fact that I struggle with from time to time, and of course I'm free to stray when the urge strikes.

So my friends, those forays to the Boulder, Madison and Missouri are still on, as is fly tying night. And of course, mi casa es su casa, come visit...and bring a rod.

Roll your eyes if you want, after all, it's just the Gallatin. What's the big deal, right? Well, as I've already found out, she's got a few surprises up her sleeve. About two weeks ago I spent my first night in my new home, upon waking the next morning I grabbed my rod and sauntered down the path to the river. On what was literally my first cast, I hooked into the biggest fish I've ever caught on the Gallatin. The fish went airborne immediately upon being hooked, letting me know just how big it was (I'm conservatively saying 20"). I somehow managed to maintain the connection with the big brown over the course of two more leaps and a few hard nosed runs. Of course I hadn't brought a net with me, since I assumed I'd be catching standard Gallatin sized trout (12- to 16-inches). Thankfully I did have my camera with me to document the catch. I hate putting a fish on the rocks to take a photo like this, but with no net I had little choice. After a quick photo the brute swam off strong, I have no doubt it is still finning the river near my home.

You've got to hand it to the Gallatin, she sure knows how to reassure a guy that he made the right decision!

P.S.
Thanks again Josh!

Wolves and the Wyoming Effect

2010-08-09T12:04:00.006-06:00

I am an angler, a hunter and a conservationist. These interests are derived from a deep love and respect for the natural world. I'm best described as a sustenance hunter, not a trophy hunter. I have no desire to kill a wolf, and I hope that I'm never in a situation which necessitates such a measure. Regardless of my personal choice to abstain from hunting wolves, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that the time for sound, state level, wolf management is upon us.

The respective fish and wildlife management agencies for the states of Montana and Idaho have displayed a good deal of aptitude for managing gray wolves at the state level; the same can not be said of Wyoming. As is the case with The Cowboy State, a fierce independence and belief in individual state's rights is all well and good, until it isn't.

For those of you not following the recent ruling by District Judge Donald Molloy in Missoula, Montana - Wyoming is to blame (or thank depending on your viewpoint) for the recent re-listing of the Northern Rocky Mountain gray wolf population under the Endangered Species Act (ESA).

Idaho and Montana implemented biologically sound, federally approved, wolf management plans. Meanwhile Wyoming has its head stuck in the sand with a 19th century-esque wolf management policy essentially calling for an unlimited number of wolves to be shot on sight throughout wide scale "predator zones". Wyoming has failed to improve upon their ill conceived wolf management plan, a fact that is now impeding state level management of wolf populations in Montana and Idaho.

The reason that Wyoming's wolf management policy is such a problem is that Molloy is interpreting the protection provided to wolves under the ESA to be a blanket protection for the Northern Rocky Mountain gray wolf population as a whole. He doesn't interpret this protection as such to allow for the de-listing of the population in segments (states). Molloy said that, "The whole Northern Rocky Mountain wolf population must be protected, not just those in Wyoming, where state law is considered hostile to the species survival."

You can point your collective fingers at Molloy, and his singular interpretation of the ESA, all you want, but this decision truly is the result of Wyoming's stubbornness. Unless something changes in regard to Wyoming's wolf management plan, the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals may very well make the same ruling that Molloy did.

Perpetual federal protection of the gray wolf in the Northern Rockies has the potential to curb big game hunting opportunities, and therefore the revenue generated by hunting license sales and a significant source of funding for state fish and wildlife agencies. The reverberations of such a fall out could have substantial negative implications for wildlife (non-game species included) and fish throughout the region.

Recent History

2010-07-28T19:05:00.003-06:00

There's something special about fishing freestone rivers and streams during the two to three week time span at the tail end of spring runoff. As these waterways are dropping and clearing, the trout are remarkably willing to take a fly. In Montana that window of opportunity is closing, the transition into the dog days of summer is in full force. Looking back, there's no denying that the past three weeks or so of post-runoff fishing has offered up some of the best freestone fishing since, well, the same time last year.

Make no mistake, the fishing that is in store for the remainder of the Montana summer is incredible...terrestrials, PMDs, caddis and attractor dries make for plenty of action. And the higher elevation, headwater fisheries are just now coming into their prime for the summer. The spectacular fall season can't be discounted either, what with its lonesome rivers and lovestruck browns. Of course the pre-runoff fishing of April ranks right up there as well, often presenting the first opportunities of the year to catch trout on the surface during times of BWO activity. Yet the season that arguably trumps all of these is that amazing post-runoff window in July.

During this period, the trout are generally stacked up in predictable holding water. The trout haven't seen a hook in a month or more, and fishing pressure often remains relatively light (salmonfly rivers excluded) due to many anglers apprehension to wade or row bank-full rivers. Water temperatures are at ideal levels, hatches are occurring and the trout are hungry after a prolonged period of poor feeding conditions in muddy water.

Whether it is a small creek, or a big brawling river, this period of time often provides some of the most productive fishing of the year on that particular fishery. Anglers can expect high numbers of fish per rod, but what's more is that many freestones will give up some larger than average trout at this time. On Montana's Gallatin River for example, trout in the 12- to 15-inch range are standard fare throughout the year, but during this post-runoff time period, persistent anglers are suddenly tying into fish of 18 inches or better with some regularity (see the above photo of a 19.5 inch Gallatin brown caught 2 weeks ago). This phenomenon plays out time and time again, year in and year out on freestone trout rivers throughout the west. From Arizona's Black River in May, to Montana's Yellowstone River in July, it is a great time to be on the water.

It's an undeniably difficult window of opportunity to predict. Many an angler has traveled great distances, only to arrive at the river's edge to find a raging, muddy torrent of water. Wait too long and many of the lower elevation waterways will be low and warm, their finned denizens less active. The potential reward is worth the risk, for if you keep your ear to the ground and manage to time it right next year, you just might be in for some of the best fishing you've ever experienced.

In Search of Salmonflies

2010-07-23T15:16:00.020-06:00

I consider myself a fairly avid angler, yet one of Montana's classic fly fishing experiences has long eluded me...the salmonfly hatch. In large part I blame the situation on having resided in Billings for far too long, distanced from the hatches of southwest Montana. It wasn't as if I didn't make the effort in those years, it was just that my annual pilgrimages to the epicenter of salmonfly activity and locations such as Gardiner, Big Sky, Cameron and Melrose, never seemed to find me in the right place at the right time. I never so much as saw an adult salmonfly, to say nothing of catching a trout on a salmonfly dry.

This year would be different I told myself. My recent relocation to Bozeman was a step in the right direction, putting me within striking distance of some of the best salmonfly water in the country on rivers such as the Big Hole, Madison, Gallatin and Yellowstone. In fact I made significant progress in my quest to experience the hatch this year when, in late June on the Gallatin River, I observed an adult salmonfly for the first time. The occurrence was bittersweet since the river was in no shape for fishing, still in the throes of runoff.

Luckily I had a recent opportunity to get over and float the upper Madison River for a day. Reports varied, but the word was that salmonflies were out on the river somewhere between McAtee Bridge and Lyons Bridge at the time, with fair to good dry fly fishing. We arrived at Lyons mid-morning to find somewhere in the neighborhood of fifty vehicles in the parking lot! Opting to try and get ahead of the pack a bit we drove downriver and launched at Windy Point. The morning started off terribly slow, and our insistence upon fishing the big dries didn't help matters. The day was windy and cool and the few salmonflies that we saw were clinging lethargically to the riverside willows.

Finally at about 1pm things warmed up and before we knew it salmonflies (and goldenstones) were in the air and on the water in large number, and quite a few fish were looking up for them. We were frantically pounding the banks with our big, ugly dries while fish crushed naturals on the water all around the boat. I missed two or three good fish before finally hooking up. The big rainbow was holding in a pocket, maybe two feet off the bank under an overhanging tree, the take was viscous and the hook set solid. The strong fish fought hard in the fast current. As I plucked the Rogue from the corner of the trout’s mouth, I realized that I had, at long last, accomplished my goal of catching a trout on a salmonfly.

The action died as quickly as it had started, despite the continued presence of naturals on the water as we floated downriver. Our best guess was that the fish had gorged themselves on the big bugs and were no longer all that interested in eating. It was fun while it lasted.

At this point salmonflies are pretty much done for the year in SW Montana. There may still be a few buzzing around in the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone, or between the lakes on the Madison River, but for all intents and purposes it's over. I'm already looking forward to next years hatch, and I have a new goal...a 20- inch plus trout caught on a salmonfly!

Grand Canyon Trout Reduction Project

2010-07-10T09:04:00.007-06:00

I have an ecological conscience, but...

I just received some very bad news about a trout fishery near and dear to my heart. As I did when a similar situation arose with this fishery a few years ago, I feel the need to share the news.

If you're interested in learning a bit about the situation, continue reading. If not, tune in next time for your regularly scheduled programming.

Once upon a time I lived in AZ, on the S. Rim of the Grand Canyon. I was already a fairly avid angler at the time. Not long after moving to The Canyon I naturally began exploring its depths with a backpack and a fly rod. I soon discovered the incredible trout fishing of Bright Angel Creek and Tapeats Creek.

I'll never forget my first trip to fish BA Creek. I made the long hike down the S. Kaibab Trail and upon arrival at the creek I wasted no time in tying on a curious, beadhead creation of mine. As I worked my way upstream along the creek's pocket water, drift after drift was met by beautiful, wild browns and rainbows. I was mesmerized by the whole experience. To this day that tattered fly still resides on my bookcase as a memento.

I visited BA Creek countless times during the years that I lived at the canyon, and I've returned to visit many times since. BA Creek is without a doubt my favorite fishery in AZ. Despite the pull that BA Creek had - and still has - on me, I managed to slip away to explore other trout streams in the canyon, among them was Tapeats Creek.

I believe that Tapeats Creek offers the finest fishing for wild rainbows in all of AZ - Lee's Ferry included. The plunge pools along the creek's course are teeming with hungry rainbows, including some very healthy fish. The creek is ridiculously remote, the drive to the trailhead is a serious journey and the hike into the canyon is - if you're fortunate - death defying. The creek is seldom fished and while I wouldn't go so far as to call it a virgin fishery, it's about as close as it gets, particularly on its upper end.

These fisheries have it all in my mind: wild country, wild trout, solitude and scenery. Soon though, these great trout fisheries will be severely damaged. NPS is out to kill as many trout as possible in the park.

You see, the GC trout fishery is essentially a downstream extension of the famous Lee's Ferry tailwater on the Colorado River, created by Glen Canyon Dam. The pre-dam Colorado was a warm, silty, highly fluctuating river with great backwater habitat. The post-dam Colorado is clear, cold and calculated. Sadly, since the construction of the dam, many of the native fish species which once thrived in the river have either dissapeared entirely or, as in the case of the Humpback Chub (HBC), are now protected by the Endangered Species Act. These days the river and its tributaries through the canyon are dominated by non-native trout.

You can probably guess where we go from here...the dam isn't going anywhere and NPS is mandated to do all it can to save the HBC. The non-native trout are one of the few variables in this whole equation. The justification for killing trout is that they are preying upon HBC. Studies have found this to be true, there's no denying it, but the level of predation is rather negligible. Trust me, predation by trout is the least of the HBC's concerns. I'm generally all about native fish preservation and restoration, trout or not. However this is a unique situation, the ecosystem has been degraded/altered to such an extent that it's no longer suitable habitat for the natives which evolved to thrive in the pre-dam river. HBC can't reproduce in the post-dam Colorado, it's too cold. Their reproduction is limited to a single, warm water tributary, the Little Colorado River (LCR) - a severly limiting factor for HBC.

Of course the only real solution to restoring native fish populations in the GC is to first restore the river to pre-dam conditions by either decommissioning the dam, or installing a temperature control device in the dam to take water from various levels in the reservoir, thus warming the river to simulate pre-dam conditions. Both scenarios carry some potentially serious consequences.

Several years ago this very issue came to a head, and thousands upon thousands of trout were killed in the GC by NPS and SWCA. Among the casualties were over 500 spawning brown trout in BA Creek, including some fish approaching 30 inches. Fortunately I was able to experience the fishery prior to this tragedy. BA Creek is major spawning habitat for Colorado River trout, and a fish weir placed near the creek's inlet during the last round of trout reduction efforts proved an all too effective way to pick off fish moving into the creek to spawn. Fortunately the program was halted upon the appointment of a new superintendent. Over the subsequent few years, the fishery has steadily recovered from that event, fishing quite well in '09 and '10. It was a short respite. The project has become a renewed priority for NPS, perhaps due to an increased availability of funding for such projects under the Obama administration.

To be clear, I fully support the mainstem river trout reduction efforts in the vicinity of the LCR confluence, as an experiment to see if localized trout removal will in fact benefit HBC. What really bothers me is the tributary removal efforts throughout the GC and in particular the apparent lack of science behind them. Why is there no PIT tag data to prove the hypothesis that browns spawning in BA Creek are subsequently migrating 27 river miles to the LCR confluence and preying upon juvenile HBC? If these trout are being killed based on an assumption, that is utterly irresponsible. Tracking the movements of trout in the mainstem and tributaries seems like the logical first step in this process. Furthermore, neither BA Creek or Tapeats Creek are HBC habitat, never have been, they're simply too cold. NPS openly admits that in some cases (Tapeats) the removal of non-native trout will be done despite no expected benefits to native fish populations in the creek. That seems like a pretty radical philosophy, implying that there is some inherent value to the removal of non-native species in and of itself.

It looks like these incredible trout fisheries are soon going to take a serious blow. Although it is ultimately the goal of NPS, trout will never be eliminated entirely from the greater GC aquatic ecosystem, it's simply too interconnected and too vast to accomplish such a task. Pisticides will never be employed in the park due to the liklihood of incidentally harming native fishes with its use. Fish barriers will never be built at the mouths of restored tributary streams since they would block the upstream passage of not only trout, but also native fish. Rather, seasonal fish weirs and backpack electro-shocking will be the removal methods of choice on tributaries...effective enough to suppress the trout population greatly, but not eliminate it entirely. This project too will fade in time, a future administration will undoubtedly divert funding, putting the project on hiatus, allowing the trout fishery to rebound for a few years. There's nothing quite like bureaucratic inefficiency.

I'd like to tell you that there is something you can do if you'd like to get involved, but aside from writing the park superintendent, Steve Martin, I'm not sure that there are many options. I've seen no mention of an Environmental Assessment and public scoping period for this project, but hopefully that is still to come. If you'd like to keep an eye out for a public comment period on this project, periodically check here.

For further reading on the issue enter, "Bright Angel Creek Trout Reduction" into your search engine of choice. The issue has been written about and addressed by such individuals as Ted Williams and Charles Gauvin, the former president of TU. For a very interesting article in Fly Rod & Reel by Ted, written during the turmoil surround the initial project in '03, click here. I've always respected Ted's writing, but in his more recent article on the subject for High Country News, Ted has gone so far as to suggest that any angler with an ecological conscience should be supportive of the trout reduction project - I beg to differ.

Legend & Lore

2010-07-06T18:20:00.003-06:00

I don't remember just when or where I first learned of the creek. Maybe it was at Bud Lilly's in West Yellowstone as I eavesdropped on a hushed conversation while perusing the fly bins. Or perhaps it came from loose lips over a frosty pint at the Silver Dollar in Ennis. Truth be told I probably couldn't trace my fascination with this particular fishery back to any single source. Bit by bit over the past couple of years I've accumulated a pittance of knowledge about the place...never enough to really go by, but just enough to keep me intrigued.

Legend has it that the creek hosts a mysterious, almost ghostly run of very large cutthroat trout. What's more, the rumor of this run is substantiated by sound, but antiquated, stream survey data compiled by fisheries biologists. My own trips to fish the creek have done little to sort out fact from fiction. Were it not for an occassional rare, unabashed report from fellow anglers, I'd probably have given up on the place long ago.

Last Friday marked my third trip to fish the creek in search of its phantom cutthroat trout. The two previous trips had resulted in few if any trout caught and those that were caught certainly weren't of mythical proportions. This trip proved to be no different, nary a trout was brought to hand despite the fact that a very able angling comrade and I spent eight hours methodically prospecting some excellent looking water along various portions of the stream.

Fortunately the creek offers more than just a long shot at hooking up with migratory cutthroat trout. The watershed harbors a remnant population of a rare, wild fish native to Montana - the arctic grayling. I've caught the species in some mountain lakes throughout Montana - and even as far south as Arizona - but this particular population is special. This is one of the few remaining fluvial/adfluvial populations of grayling occupying native habitat in Montana - the only state in the lower 48 where the species still occurs naturally.

I'll always look forward to returning to this mountain valley for its unspoiled beauty and for the grayling, yet I'll always be hoping for something more. I've bought into the rumors and hearsay, and it may have been a stream-side conversation on Friday that cemented my belief. As we got back to the truck after fishing an unproductive stretch of water, another vehicle coasted to a stop alongside us. The rig's lone occupant, an angler, stepped from his truck and proffered a bit of experience based knowledge of the creek. As he rigged his rod he seemed quite confident in his ability to find what we had missed. The thought of him catching big cutts in our backwater that evening was almost too much to bear, but at the same time it was an oddly comforting thought.

Should I ever find myself tight to a big cutthroat on this stream I'll thank my lucky stars. In the meantime I'll enjoy the legend and lore that the creek is enshrouded in, and the process of unraveling the mystery.

Zero to Hero

2010-06-23T08:07:00.007-06:00

I have been spending a fair bit of time fishing lakes in southwest Montana over the past week. This is notable only because it isn't my usual style. Typically during runnoff I'll seek out fishable moving water in the form of tailwaters, spring creeks or high elevation tributaries that are running clear.

Yesterday afternoon a friend talked me into traipsing up to a little lake in the hills south of Bozeman. This is a lake of local legend, and is certainly no secret. It is well known for harboring large, finicky cuttbows which feast on the lake's robust scud population.

This was my first visit to the lake, and my expectations were quite low as we marched up the slick, muddy trail to the lake. The place has been immortalized by the pen of John Gierach, who has famously written about the difficulty of catching the large fish that reside here. What's more, friends who fish the lake have basically told me that getting skunked here is routine. The bar was set low, very low.

I had ingeniously departed sunny suburbia without a jacket and as we rigged up our rods on the lake shore, the clouds let loose. I sought refuge under pine boughs, all the while wondering if anyone has ever died of hypothermia in June.

Amidst the downpour I spied several aggressive rises by substantial fish. These trout weren't sipping midges, in fact I don't know what they were after. My guess is they were chasing scuds near the surface. It was enough to get me off the porch and out wading through the muck and mud.

Prior to our arrival at the lake my buddy swore that he had a fairly unorthodox technique that was the ticket for catching fish in this lake. It sounded like a sure thing, apparently he'd found success with it here in the past. Yet, for whatever reason his confidence in that technique flagged upon our arrival at the lake. He backpedaled and went with the obvious fly, a scud. I had been clinging to the vestige of hope that his "secret technique" had offered, but it was quickly slipping through my fingers as I watched him peruse his fly box and scratch his head.

For the first couple of hours we tried this and that, with no luck. Finally about the time that the storm broke and the sun warmed us, I had what turned out to be a bit of an epiphany. Over the next hour or so I landed one brute and lost one more. My buddy even got in on the action, smiling for the camera with a whale of a trout before all was said and done.

I'm no hero, my success here may very well have been a complete fluke, or simply beginner's luck. Regardless, I'm certainly looking forward to getting back up there to find out. Perhaps more surprising is the fact that Rat Lake has opened my mind to the pleasurable possibilities of stillwater fishing. After all, what's not to like about a big pull?

The Quest for Clarity

2010-06-13T20:59:00.018-06:00

One of these years I'm going to put down the fly rod and pick up another hobby during runoff. Getting into whitewater kayaking, mountain biking or tennis might be just the ticket to help pass the time. One of these years...just not this year.

This year the search for fishable water during runoff is on yet again. My usual fishing haunts of the Madison, Gallatin and Yellowstone are out of the question right now. The Missouri is an option, even with flows cranked up to 16,000 cfs, but I'm looking for something a little closer to home. Smaller tributaries such as the Boulder, Shields, The East, and etc. are still blown out. Mid-elevation trout lakes are said to be fishing well, but I have a difficult time getting excited about stillwater fishing below timberline.

My quest for clarity usually begins each morning on the USGS website, pouring over flow charts, looking for some glimmer of hope. The freestones have been dropping pretty significantly over the past few days, but they're still big and muddy, and there's still a lot of snow in the mountains. So the quest continues, and probably will for a couple of weeks to come.

It wasn't long ago that the lower Madison River - a quasi tailwater - was still fishing well. I took advantage of the good conditions, fishing it on a few occasions from Beartrap to Cobblestone and doing very well with dead drifted crayfish patterns. I also visited the only public spring creek in this part of the state: Darlington Spring Creek, which parallels the lower Madison and where I had some success swinging soft hackles in faster water. The lower Madison is no longer much of an option, and considering that Darlington acquires a portion of its water from the river, I'm not sure that this so called spring creek is either.

The highlight of my quest for clarity came last week. I owe it all to an assist from a fishing buddy who showed me a sweet mountain stream. This has been his top secret, go to runoff location for a few years now. I half expected him to break out a blindfold for me to wear on the drive to the trailhead, but he spared me. What keeps this place a secret is the hike in, which is lengthy. This isn't your typical, high gradient, claustrophobic, mountain stream consisting of small trout. Rather it's an interesting blend of a spring creek and a freestone meadow stream that harbors some sizeable cutts and brookies.

The quest continued this weekend when I decided to explore some new water north of Bozeman. This creek drains some relatively low elevation country, giving me hope that it would be fishable. The Sunday drive along the base of the Bridgers was beautiful and I got a look at the old, abandoned railway stop of Maudlow, but the creek was blown out. I didn't even wet a line.

At this rate I'm going to have to start playing tennis. Or maybe I need to suck it up and learn to enjoy lake fishing, I hear that the view from Rat Lake is nice...

A little shameless self promotion...

2010-06-01T13:27:00.009-06:00

The new issue of Montana Sporting Journal is hot off the presses.

This issue has some great fly fishing content with articles about Montana's bull trout, Yellowstone National Park, floating the Middle Fork of the Flathead, the Bitterroot River skwala hatch, a small stream photo essay and lots more. I even make an appearance with an article about a successful exploratory fly fishing trip to a remote river in MT.

If you'd like to check it out, call 800-559-4351 or email me and I'll get you hooked up with a free trial issue.

The JJ is Special

2010-05-31T11:13:00.015-06:00

An angler's confidence in a fly is an interesting thing. Call me crazy, but it almost seems as if those positive vibes are transferred down the line and to the fly, giving it an effectiveness that it doesn't posses at the hands of a pessimistic angler.

I've had some favorites over the years, flies that inspired great confidence on the water. Back in the day it was a brown bugger. Then it was the stimulator. This winter it was a partridge and pink soft hackle. I've got a lot of love for the Chernobyl family come summer. But at the present time, the JJ Special is a fly that I have a great deal of confidence in.

The fly represents nothing exactly, but many things loosely. I believe it's a very effective crayfish imitation. I'm sure it's taken as a stonefly nymph at times. It certainly has some baitfish qualities to it. It's an easy tie and the standard recipe turns out a tasty product, but when tied in various colors and sizes the fly can represent certain trout (and bass) delicacies even more effectively. A black, or black/yellow JJ is a solid variation, as is an olive JJ. In its various incarnations, the JJ has now overtaken half of my bugger barn.

The fly is absolutely deadly on the drift, on the swing or stripped. Most of my confidence in this fly comes from dead drifting it in tandem with a smaller nymph. But then many a good fish has fallen for the JJ at the tail end of a drift when it swings and rises in the current, its rubber legs and marabou undulating invitingly. And there have been many memorable days spent pounding river banks with a JJ, stripping it feverishly through the lies of big, streamer eating browns.

I've caught rainbows, cutts, browns and smallmouth on a JJ. It has hooked me up in some dire looking situations, where visibility was under a foot. In gin clear water the fly can be a bit gaudy, but still plenty effective. It may be at its best somewhere in between these conditions, when the water has a touch of green to it and visibility is in the 3- to 4-foot range. It's generally at home in big water, but I've had success with it on smaller streams, particularly if browns are part of the equation.

I'm gushing a bit, I know, but the JJ really has been good to me. Case in point: over the past two days I caught about a dozen fish with it on the Madison River below Beartrap Canyon, including both my largest brown and rainbow to date on this stretch of river.

For whatever reason this fly has instilled a little extra confidence to my fishing, and there's something to be said for that.

A Reacquaintance

2010-05-15T10:05:00.012-06:00

I went back. Back to where it all began. A drift down memory lane.

Last week I hopped on a big old jet airliner, leaving behind a wintery Montana for a sun drenched Arizona. It was good to go home, to see family and friends, to just be in Flagstaff, and to wet a line at some familiar haunts.

As I eased my Teva clad feet into the water of Oak Creek, and later Wet Beaver Creek, I felt an overwhelming sense of deja vu. At the same time I felt distinctly out of place. I haven't been fishing small streams nearly enough since I moved to Montana, and it showed. For the past three years I've been focused on learning how to fish the big water of rivers such as the Yellowstone, Madison and Missouri, a task that was quite overwhelming initially. Now the tables had turned and I seemed to have lost my old knack for catching trout on small streams.

The intimate pocket water of these Arizona streams had my drifts feeling like awkward, discombobulated, thingamabobbered, obtrusive affairs. I was sloppily spooking fish left and right in the low, clear water. The combination of my 9' rod and even longer leader were rather ridiculous...it's tough to load a 5 weight with only a few inches of line extending beyond the rod tip!

I was humbled. I thought I'd learned so much in Montana over the past few years. I thought that I was going to bring those new found skills back to AZ with resounding success. That wasn't the case, I quickly found that I couldn't impose my new tricks upon these streams. Eventually I settled back into old rhythms, shortened my leader, employed a dry-dropper setup, reduced my false casting, and kept to the shadows as I worked upstream. It felt good to be back in tune with things.

I returned to Montana a couple of days ago, just in time for the opening day of fishing season (many small streams and larger rivers such as the upper Madison are closed until the third Saturday in May). Despite the fact that yesterday may very well have been the last day of fishable conditions on our big freestones until after runoff, I found myself on a couple of small streams in the Gallatin Canyon. I loved every minute of it.

I've been reacquainted with the magic of small stream fly fishing and I'm looking forward to maintaining that connection.

Back from the Smith

2010-05-03T09:40:00.031-06:00

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Right? After a challenging Smith River trip, I'd like to believe that is the case. After a few days of indecisiveness leading up to the launch date, due to river conditions and a member of our party canceling, we decided to go ahead and float the Smith River anyway. I really had my heart set on spending my 30th birthday on the Smith and with a forecast calling for cool temperatures, we were hopeful that the river would be dropping and clearing throughout our trip.

On the morning of Tuesday, the 27th, we launched our canoe at Camp Baker with beautiful weather and pretty good river conditions (2' of visibility). Most folks do the Smith over 4 nights and 5 days, we opted to extend the trip by a night and a day to ensure that we'd have ample time to fish over the course of this 59 mile float.

The first day and a half of the trip went off without a hitch and we stopped frequently to wade fish the more productive looking water. The first flies out of my box were a JJ Special and a San Juan...I never had to deviate from that tandem setup. The fish were all over both flies on the drift, and a few took the JJ on the swing. Lots of heavy browns up to 17" and quite a few solid rainbows came to hand those first couple of days on the water. Best of all, the 70-80% chance of rain on Tuesday night and Wednesday didn't materialize...things were going great!

But then things took a turn for the worse late on Wednesday. Long story short, we dumped the canoe in a pushy cliffside sweeper that we approached much too casually. That debacle cost us dearly, we lost a paddle, a rod, an axe and 3/4s of our beer! Fortunately we were less than a mile from our boat camp and the clouds never opened up that night, giving us a chance to quickly build a warming fire and dry ourselves out. Hypothermia avoided, we settled into our respective tents for the night, looking forward to more fishing and paddling in the morning.

It wasn't to be, at dawn on Thursday morning I awoke to the sound of quiet, but persistent spattering on my tent walls...a light drizzle I assumed. As I peered out of the vestibule I was surprised to find a wintry scene with snow falling hard and accumulating quickly; this hadn't been in the forecast! By the time I'd finished my first cup of coffee the storm had intensified greatly, with heavy snow blowing in sideways on a fierce, sustained wind. This wasn't a day to be on the river in a canoe. We got a hot fire going and fed it steadily as the snow piled up in the canyon. We hunkered down and waited out the storm, spending three nights and two full days at the Canyon Depth boat camp as more than 2' of snow fell over a 36 hour period.

We had company in camp on Thursday evening when a lone, cold and weary rafter pulled ashore after battling the storm all day. He was happy to warm himself around our fire and share the dry firewood and beer he had on his boat. The rest of his party was still a half mile upriver and never made it into camp that night, they pulled over and set up a makeshift camp after several failed attempts to pull through a big eddy with a nasty crosswind - they finally made it into camp Friday morning during a lull in the wind. We all waited out the storm together that day, sharing stories and pulls of whiskey around the fire. The guys we shared camp with have floated the Smith for some 30 years, often finding themselves on the river in April - they said that this was by far the worst storm they'd experienced on the Smith.

The storm broke late on Friday and we covered the final 40 miles or so of river in short order, putting in a 30 mile day on Saturday and a 10 miler on Sunday. We were pushing to get off the river and didn't fish much over the final two days and when we did it was unproductive. The trip was challenging and offered up the worst weather conditions I've ever experienced on an extended, self-supported backcountry trip of any nature. But we survived it, learned a few things along the way and gained some valuable experience. I like to think I'm stronger for it.

Talk of the Weather

2010-04-22T17:03:00.007-06:00

There has been a lot of talk of the weather between me and my fishing buddies lately. It may not be the deepest topic of conversation, but it's weighing heavily on our minds as we approach the launch date for a 6 day Smith River trip. We knew that a launch of 4/27 was risky business, potentially inviting runoff into the equation. And sure enough, unseasonably warm weather over the past few days has blown out the rivers with snow melt. Of course it's not all bad, the warm weather also has mini-skirts out in full force around Bozeman. The Smith went from 200 cfs a week ago, to over 800 cfs yesterday. Fortunately there's a glimmer of hope in the forecast...the next few days bring cooler weather and with it, hope that the river will drop and clear. Plan B is a multi-day float on a remote tailwater river in MT, but I'm hoping it won't come to that. Wish us luck.

I haven't been out fishing much this week, deadlines for Montana Sporting Journal and Trout Magazine conspired against me. My most recent outing was on the upper Madison, where we spent an afternoon floating from Varney to Burnt Tree. The fishing wasn't spectacular from a numbers standpoint, but we caught some good size fish. With the exception of a whitefish or two, every fish we caught was a rainbow. I like to think that they were all resident fish, but some of them may very well have been interlopers, up from Ennis Lake. Most of the fish took golden stone nymphs, but a couple fell for a trailing pheasant tail or shop vac. This reach of river has some great looking water, including some very inviting side channels. We spent more time than we should have on the upper couple of miles, stopping to wade at nearly every good looking location, of which there were many. My buddy had a hot date back in town that night, so we had to cover the last few miles in a hurry. About mid-way through the float I eased up on the oars, gazed at the Madison Range, felt the warm sun on my face and realized that it just doesn't get much better than this.

Home Water

2010-04-13T07:58:00.004-06:00

Whether it's a golf course pond, or a blue ribbon trout stream, we all have local water that satiates our thirst for a quick fix. There's something special about getting to know a body of water intimately, learning her many moods and what makes her tick.

When I lived in Flagstaff, Arizona my home water was Oak Creek, and after moving to the Grand Canyon I frequented Bright Angel Creek. I spent countless hours with these beautiful trout streams, falling in love in the process.

Now that I'm living in Bozeman, Montana my home water is the Gallatin River. She's the girl next door, an easily overlooked and underrated trout fishery just west of town. She tends to be overshadowed by her more glamorous neighbors: the Madison to the west and the Yellowstone to the east. I've fallen hard for her, she's a beautiful, complex freestone river that has everything a guy could ask for. I want to explore every inch of her, from head to toe. The curves of her lower valley call to me, but it's difficult to overlook her tight, canyon mid-section and of course there's no denying the surprises that her upper meadow reaches hold.

I've decided to make a commitment to the Gallatin this summer, she's certainly deserving. Yes, she's convenient, but more importantly I enjoy spending time with her. She understands that our relationship isn't exclusive, yet doesn't hold it against me.

Right now we're still in the honeymoon phase, things are new and exciting, but I have no reason to believe that it won't continue like this forever. With the longer days I've been getting out on the Gallatin 2-3 times a week after work, as well as on weekends. Recent outings have regularly produced a score of fish per rod (of course many are whitefish), including some nice browns in the 14- to 17- inch range and numerous rainbows. The fish are taking dead drifted stonefly nymphs, pheasant tails, shop vacs and soft hackles with reckless abandon. Baetis are beginning to pop and some small stoneflies (nemoura?) are inviting a bit of surface action on the lower river - rumor has it there is even a bit of skwala stonefly activity on the lower river as well. Streamers are taking trout and will weed out the whitefish, but expect to lose some flies to underwater structure.

I'm not usually one to kiss and tell, but then the Gallatin is no secret. I've had to share her with others - bait fisherman even - that's just the way it is and I've come to terms with it. Of course I like to think that she doesn't divulge her deepest secrets to just anyone...

Where's your home water?

Sell Out

2010-03-28T09:15:00.019-06:00

When my friend Josh casually mentioned that AZ's Black River was profiled in the current issue (Apr/May) of Fly Fisherman magazine I was really, really hoping he was kidding. Josh resides in Montana and has never fished the Black, but he's heard me talk about it a time or three. He thought I might be interested in seeing the article. I went down to the local newsstand and picked up a copy...sure enough the cover was emblazoned with the words, "Black River". The magazine devoted 6 pages to this - until now - relatively unknown fishery in AZ's White Mountains. A fellow by the name of Cameron Chambers from Helena, MT wrote the piece.

It's a well written and accurate article...too accurate. Mr. Chambers didn't hold back in his telling of the river's greatness. Throughout the piece he really talks up the river's brown trout fishery and with this line he broke my heart: "as the river transitions between warm and coldwater fisheries, it has the effect of steroids on the brown trout". That wasn't really necessary. By the time I'd finished reading the article I was left with a feeling akin to finding out that your girl is seeing someone else.

The Black River is a rather non-technical fishery, getting to it is really the most difficult aspect of fishing it. Its remoteness may be its saving grace, but Mr. Chambers has just issued a Black River invitation to about 100,000 anglers. Even if only 1% of Fly Fisherman readers have an interest in checking the place out, that is still a lot of people for this river to absorb over the course of a couple of seasons (I believe that the attention a fishery receives from such an article is significant over 1-3 years, but negligible long term). This isn't a large river, flowing at perhaps 100-200 cfs most of the season and with only a few major access points...it could feel crowded in a hurry.

It may seem hypocritical of me to be bothered by this article, considering that I have an AZ fly fishing guidebook in print. My book details the Black River, there's no denying that, but I anguished over its inclusion in the book and I was careful not to over-hype it. Regardless, if all 14 people who have bought AND read my book were to suddenly descend upon the Black River on the same summer weekend, it would have little impact.

I've long feared that someone would eventually sell out and write up the Black River for SW Fly Fishing. Mr. Chambers, you've taken it to another level...I hope they paid you well, sir.

Skwala!

2010-03-23T08:52:00.026-06:00

As a kid I enjoyed finding bugs and chucking them onto the surface of our backyard pond. Watching the pond's koi slowly rise and slurp a big moth, grasshopper or ant never ceased to amaze me. Not much has changed now that I've grown up, there's something satisfying about watching fish rise to dry flies, particularly large dry flies. In Montana we're pretty fortunate that we don't have to wait until the June salmonfly extravaganza to fish big dries. March brings another member of the stonefly family to the surface...the skwala.

Over the past two weeks I've been hearing reports of fair to good skwala action on the Bitterroot River near Missoula. Most of the reports indicated there is a small, but widening, window of surface activity every afternoon.

I was itching to get over there and as luck would have it, Scott Anderson - a Missoula area guide - invited us over to fish with him. We hit the river on Sunday morning with beautiful, sunny weather and some serious optimism. The Bitterroot skwala hatch attracts a bit of a crowd, anglers from across the nation flock to the river in March and April to fish this early stonefly hatch. For that reason we fished high on the river, above everyone else. With the exception of one raft launching behind us, we never saw another boat all day!

The fishing started off a little slow in the morning, we stubbornly fished dry flies through a futile hour or so. Eventually we conceded and quickly found success after switching over to nymphs. Karen boated the first fish of the day, a beautiful westslope cutthroat. The action gradually increased as the day warmed, and we continued to pick up quite a few fish on nymphs through the lunch hour. Sometime between 1pm and 2pm things changed in a hurry, bugs were out on the water and the fish were looking up. For the rest of the day we fished nothing but big skwala and nemoura stonefly dries, getting takes in nearly every stretch of good winter holding water. Even as the weather turned nasty late in the day we were catching fish on top. At one point Karen and I were doubled up with nice cutts. Most of the fishing was blind, but we did have a few opportunities to cast to heads. Scott took big fish honors of the day with an 18" cutt, but between the three of us we caught several chunky cutts in the 15-16" range.

Scott's knowledge of the river was impressive. I'm a decent stick and Karen definitely has some skills, but without our guide's knowledge of the water our day wouldn't have been nearly as successful. Scott guides for Five Valleys Flyfishing (outfitter lic. # 12094), give them a shout if you're looking for a guide in the Missoula region.

Sometimes It All Comes Together

2010-03-16T23:27:00.000-06:00

Some people seem to have luck on their side when it comes to fishing. My friend Matt is one such person. Now that's not to say that he isn't a skilled angler, for he is, but he just seems to have a little extra river karma going for him. He's caught some very nice fish in my presence over the past year, none more so than the rainbow he landed on the Missouri River last week.

Unfortunately we didn't have a tape measure along, but there is no doubt that it was somewhere in the 23-25" range. As impressive as its length was, the girth of this fish is what really set it apart, it was massive!

I've really enjoyed fishing this stretch of the Missouri over the past month or so, but the fishing pressure is starting to pick up with the nice weather and influx of spawning rainbows. There are quite a few gear fisherman targeting fish on redds, not exactly my style, but it comes with the territory I suppose.

In other news, I fished Big Spring Creek on Thursday afternoon following a morning business meeting in Lewistown. While the creek looked great to me, the locals were complaining about it being off color from low elevation snow melt. There was 3-4' of visibility, which turned out to be plenty. I fished above town and caught good numbers of rainbows, and an occasional brown, up to 14". Most fish were taken on a shop vac/pheasant tail variation, but a couple fell for a small partridge and pink soft hackle. I also saw my first blue winged olives of the year...there weren't many and the trout weren't really looking for them, but it was great to see - spring is definitely in the air.

The weekend found me in Kalispell for the Great Rockies Show and although I brought my fishing gear, it wasn't until the drive home on Sunday afternoon that I had a chance to fish. The young lady that accompanied me - and who was essentially my guide for the afternoon - put me onto some great looking water along the upper Blackfoot. Karen was even gracious enough to leave her rod behind so that I could fish more, what more could a guy ask for? But it was to no avail, the water was cold and the fish were a bit lethargic. I did have one take in the last run we fished, but I must have been distracted...my hook set was poor and the trout slipped off. Even so, I can't remember a better couple of hours spent on the water in quite a while. It all came together on this day with beautiful weather and great company on the river.

Verde River, Arizona

2010-03-04T22:34:00.045-07:00

Last April I embarked on a five day, 42 mile, wilderness canoe trip of central Arizona's Verde River (Childs to Horseshoe). This was a trip that I'd long dreamed of taking. Despite having called Arizona home for over 25 years, it wasn't until I moved away to Montana that this trip came to fruition. While there was some great paddling, hiking and camaraderie, this trip was all about wilderness fly fishing on a unique, desert freestone river.

Southwest Fly Fishing magazine gave me the opportunity to share this adventure in their current, March/April, issue. If you're not already a subscriber to this publication, you can find the current issue on major newsstands throughout the southwest. A digital version of the magazine is available at: www.matchthehatch.com

Land of the Giants

2010-03-03T23:15:00.022-07:00

I can't seem to stay away. The allure of big, river trout and virtually no fishing pressure had me enduring another chilly day on the Missouri River this week. Granted, our weather has been very warm for this time of year in Montana, but it's still cold enough to keep most anglers indoors.

We justified the week day trip to ourselves by scheduling a couple of business appointments in Helena in the morning, before devoting the afternoon to "field work". We accessed the river from Hauser Dam this time, rather than by making the longer drive to Beaver Creek. Upon our arrival, trout were rising in the slack water to a prolific midge hatch. However it didn't take long to realize that all of the rising fish were quite small (10-14").

Throughout the afternoon I stuck with a weighted, double nymph set-up. A scud and zebra midge were consistent producers for me, each fly accounted for a few rainbows. My biggest fish of the day - a beautifully colored, 18" male rainbow - took the beadhead midge. My friend Matt took big fish honors on this day with a solid 20" rainbow that took a pregnant scud pattern.

As good as the fishing has been for us here this winter, we know we've barely scratched the surface of what this location is capable of producing. Reports have been surfacing of some big fish moving up out of Holter Reservoir in recent days. I hope to have another first hand report from Land of the Giants next week. Of course there are already reports of skwala stonefly hatches occurring on the Bitterroot River this week...decisions, decisions.

MT Tailwater Tour

2010-02-26T14:54:00.022-07:00

Here in SW Montana we anglers are fortunate to have a number of high quality tailwater trout fisheries to play on during the winter months. Last weekend I sampled two of them, the mighty Missouri River and the infamous Bighorn River.

When the alarm went off Friday morning I was questioning my sanity for rising early to go fishing in temperatures that weren't forecast to exceed 30 degrees. None the less I got myself out the door and on the road for a day on the water with Josh, Brady and Clay.

Our destination was the Missouri River at Beaver Creek, below Hauser Dam. This was my first time fishing this stretch of the Missouri and I was immediately impressed. The river flows for 2-3 miles between reservoirs here, through a steep, roadless canyon...my kind of place. Brady quickly set the pace for the day, hooking into a big, beautiful rainbow that measured 23". Over the course of the day we battled high winds, heavy snow and some nice fish.

There was no rest for the weary after getting back to the Bozone Friday night. Duty called and I had to be in Billings early Saturday morning on business. I reloaded the truck, picked up Matt and made a caffeine fueled drive to Billings. I'm a big proponent of mixing business and pleasure at every opportunity and was sure to schedule a day on the Bighorn to round out the weekend.

We wasted no time in getting over to Ft. Smith on Sunday morning. We pulled into the Afterbay boat ramp at 9:30am, rigged up, launched the Clacka and hooked up right off the bat. My bro-in-law from Billings joined us for this float and with his knowledge of the river we were into fish all day. At about 10am we saw our first risers, midges were coming off heavily and some sizeable fish were keying in on them. It turned out none of us came well prepared to fish emerging/adult midges, the midge clusters I had on hand got nothing but refusals. Fortunately there were plenty of fish eager to take an assortment of soft hackles, scuds, annelids, shrimp cocktails and streamers. No huge fish were boated, but the numbers of fish per rod was good and the average size was 15-16"...tough to complain about that in February.

Dusting off the Fly Rod

2010-02-17T11:00:00.004-07:00

February is a slow time of year for sportsmen in Montana, or just about anywhere for that matter. Waterfowl season has closed, we're still two months from spring turkey season and an ice auger is needed for most fishing endeavors. I've been spending a good deal of time tying flies in anticipation of spring, but all this tying and talk of fishing makes my cabin fever even worse.

After a bit of a fly fishing hiatus during December and January, I decided it was high time I dust off the rod. It's difficult to be self-motivated about getting out on the river at this time of year. Fortunately a couple of my friends have no qualms about bundling up and wading icy rivers in an attempt to shake the winter doldrums.

A recent afternoon outing on the Gallatin River with my buddy Matt was an exercise in futility. Much to our surprise, by the time we fished our way downstream to our destination (a run known as "Hog Alley") we found a couple of other anglers had beaten us to it! This on a weekday in February! Doesn't anyone work anymore? I know, I know, it's the economy, stupid. As the smell of skunk intensified over the course of the afternoon, we lowered our standards a bit and proceeded to target whitefish...with no luck. Regardless, it was a beautiful winter afternoon in which snow flurries and golden shafts of sunlight intermingled in the Gallatin Canyon.

Last Friday I got out yet again for a few hours of fly fishing on the Lower Madison River, a Bozeman area tailwater. On this trip I was accompanied by Josh Bergan, the fly fishing columnist for Montana Sporting Journal, and his friend Brady. Brady was into fish almost immediately and continued putting on a clinic throughout the day. I was a little slower to catch on, landing a couple of rainbows on an egg pattern early on before hitting a serious dry spell. Fortunately Brady eventually took pity on me and furnished a fly he calls, the "Lower Madison Special". As it did on this day, it never ceases to amaze me when the fishing goes from ho-hum to great after simply changing fly patterns.

Winter fly fishing...it's not all bad.

The Grandest of Trout

2009-11-10T11:08:00.011-07:00

Arizona's Grand Canyon is a special place for many people, myself included. I called the South Rim "home" for four years. That was a time in my life that I'll always cherish. A big part of my Grand Canyon experience was defined by the people that came and went from my life during those years, they really helped me to grow as a person, to open my mind to new possibilities, cultures and ideals. Bigger still was the effect that the canyon itself had on me. Whether sitting on the rim, or exploring the inner canyon, the place has a way of putting everything in perspective, and of fostering a certain awareness within a person. It is hard not to feel a strong connection to a place like this. The trout fishing isn't too shabby either.

Since leaving, I've promised myself I'd get back to the canyon every year. So far I've made good on that promise. Each of the past three fall seasons I've managed to drag my Dad down to the bottom of the canyon at Bright Angel Creek (actually, he does fine going down, it's on the way up that the dragging occurs). It's not usually too tough to talk my old man into the trip as I think he feels a similar connection to the place, in his younger days he spent a lot of time on the oars during Museum of N. AZ river research trips through the canyon.

This fall we made the hike to BA Creek with a friend of my Dad's, Tom, a beginning fly fisherman. On the day of the hike-in we drove up from PHX pre-dawn, had our traditional breakfast at El Tovar and hit the BA Trail for the 10 mile trek. Our loads were pretty light this year, we all just carried day packs with personal items, water, snacks and fishing gear. I had scored beds and dinners for us at Phantom Ranch, thanks to a personal connection (thanks Barry, take it easy in TX!). It was good to be back in the heart of the canyon, not much had changed since last time, save for quite a few new faces amongst the "ranchers". We quickly settled into our accommodations and rigged up our rods...daylight was burning!

It was early November and by this time in years past there were usually a decent number of browns running up the creek from the Colorado River, and often some very nice rainbows trailing them. Of course things have really changed in recent years with the NPS sanctioned removal of non-native brown trout (and rainbows) from the river and creek. I hit one of my favorite holes right off the bat, a deep pool adjacent to the ranch, where I've consistently found some big fish. This year was no different, a brace of beautiful, wild rainbows fell for my black woolly bugger. At that moment, all was right with the world. I gave a few casting tips to Tom and helped him with the nuts and bolts of line handling. Fortunately this creek is not a very technical fishery and he quickly had a feisty little rainbow on the line. No sooner had we released his fish, the ranch's dinner bell rang.

Dinner at the ranch is always an event in and of itself, the historic dining room is packed with about 50 other hikers and mule riders from all over the country...and the world. The menu consisted of a hearty beef stew dinner, Tecate's and interesting conversation.

We awoke early the next morning, grabbed coffees from the dining room take-out window and watched the sun creep down the canyon walls. Today was our layover day, we didn't have to hike back out of the canyon until the following day. We hit the N. Kaibab Trail, fishing the best holes as we made our way upstream. Everyone was into fish throughout the day, though it appeared that the spawning browns were in short supply. Several nice rainbows (12-16") and an occasional brown took our offerings of buggers and large hare's ears. A couple of large, visible trout (20"+) eluded me in a deep hole that has stumped me more often than not over the years. As we made our way back down the trail toward the ranch, the smell of steaks grilling had our mouths watering.

After dinner I slipped out solo to fish the final hour of daylight at the confluence of the creek with the Colorado River. The river produced a couple of solid browns and rainbows that fought hard in the strong current. The spawning run hadn't materialized yet, but there were fish staging around the confluence.

We awoke early on our last day to bluebird skies. My Dad and Tom were eager to hit the trail, they were understandably anxious about the hike out. I bid them farewell, promising to reconvene with them halfway up the trail. I of course had fishing on my mind and set off for the river. I decided to try a side channel of the Colorado, below the Pipe Creek confluence. I picked up a lone rainbow on my tandem nymph rig, but knew I'd better get going if I was going to catch my group.

I set a break neck pace up Devil's Corkscrew and caught up with my companions not long after they'd arrived at Indian Gardens. We finished out the last few miles of the trail together. I played tour guide, pointing out pictographs along the trail and giving geology lessons. At the top of Jacob's Ladder we were lucky to come across a band of bighorn sheep, including an awesome full curl ram. As we topped out at Kolb Studio, we basked in euphoric exhaustion, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment...and for me at least, a sense of renewed connection with this amazing place.

Exploring New Water

2009-10-16T10:29:00.011-06:00

Last week a friend and I made the journey to explore a far away and somewhat unlikely trout fishing destination here in Montana. It's the type of place that you hear very little about, it's a long way from anywhere. To get to this water you have to pass by other rivers, fisheries far more famous and far more of a sure thing. The prodigious number of MT fly fishing guidebooks on the market provide little, if any, useful information on this river. There are no shuttle services, guides or fly shops on this river, we were on our own to figure out the nuances of the fishery.

We got our first glimpse of the river a few hours after departure. The water looked good, albeit it looked like more of a warm water river than a trout river - deep and slow and without a major mountain range in sight.

It was early enough in the day that we had time for a quick float to test the waters. At the put-in we could hardly get rigged up fast enough as a heavy caddis hatch had the river boiling with rising fish. Several casts later our X2 caddis only produced whitefish. As we floated downriver we were starting to wonder if there were any trout in this river. We continued to pick up quite a few whitefish (up to 19") on both dries and nymphs, but no trout. Finally after the sun dipped below the western horizon we connected with our first trout of the trip, a healthy 15" rainbow that drilled a flashy streamer in fast water. We were highly stoked to get that first trout out of the way, now we could get down to business.

Over the next two days we fished long and hard, floating and wading, stripping streamers, drifting nymphs and on occasion doing a little head hunting. We had good success for trout, although that success was concentrated to a few select locations on the river and came only after rotating through numerous fly patterns. By Sunday afternoon we'd learned a thing or two about this river and its trout, yet it hadn't been quite what we'd hoped...

That is until we decided to fish one last hole on the way home, a big run that we'd not yet fished. In that final hour of the trip and on what were essentially the proverbial last casts we found what we had come for...big browns (yes, that's plural). Look for a more in depth piece on this trip in a coming issue of Montana Sporting Journal.