Exceptional Spring Creek Fishing

               Exceptional fishing at spring creeks doesn't always happen. For many, spring creeks are often perceived as challenging. The water is crystal clear and in many areas no deeper than ten inches. Trout see you coming from a mile away and are very skiddish. A fly line carelessly flopped across the surface will cast a shadow that could spook the lunker you're casting to. Hatches become particularly specific many times of the year and the trout are selective during feeding. Its important to understand the fundamentals of entomology before stepping into these demanding waters. There are however some factors that make spring creeks the most desirable of all the fisheries. The predictable flows and temperatures make conditions nearly ideal no matter what the weather is doing. The water is always around forty-five degrees. Life long fish that never leave the creeks grow to huge lengths. Fish migrate to these creeks for ideal spawning conditions and substantial food. Insects thrive in these year-round warm ecosystems as well. Also one of my favorite things about many spring creeks is that they only have a maximum number of rods per day. With the decreased pressure and size of some spring creeks, finding solitude and quality fishing is easy.

                Like mentioned above, some anglers feel a sense of challenge towards spring creeks. I feel the same way. While heading out for my recent trip, and even the night before, I felt extreme anxiety. I felt the pressure to fulfill my moneys worth and anticipated the amount of effort and skill I would have to put forth. I knew that prior trips left me exhausted, some with good results and others with very little success. This time around, however, I knew it would be good, maybe easy. The spring rainbow spawn is underway and for a fact the fish are stacking up at Depuys. The previous night I tied plenty of Blue Midges and WD-40's, both sizes 18-20 along with plenty of orange Eggys, which I had hoped would be all I needed. It was a beautiful drive from Bozeman to Paradise Valley, as it always is. Its a trip I will always remember as Ive made it many times before in the early hours of the day. Giant mountains loom in all directions and wildlife is all but hidden. Every turn and bend in the river is as picturesque as a Montana post card.

Marks first cast fish- gota love those!

               We pulled into Eva's hut which is the warming hut at the bottom section of the property after we paid and said hello to Betty, the property hostess. We met up with a few friends, so there were five of us all together. Someone started up the wood stove as we talked and finished our coffees. Outside a few of us discussed what was good to tie on and rigged our lines with various double nymph setups. We agreed the Eggy was the ticket and that there were plenty of midges on the water. It was 8:15 am, the weather was nice, light fog at the time with a calmness in the air. The surrounding mountain-scape was hidden by low lying clouds, like smoke. It was ideal conditions to start a perfect day in a perfect place! Eva's hut is within a few steps to the river. One at a time as we finished getting ready we all walked to the water.

First cast of the day at Depuy Spring Creek

             Like many other outings to Depuys, the first twenty minutes are almost always guaranteed good fun. Collectively we had pulled in fifteen worthy trout and it had not even been fifteen minutes. Its quiet a sight actually, to see how the fish get spooked by the commotion of reeling in their buddies. Within an hour this whole stretch turned into a normal fishery again. I told Mason how this happens every time I'm here. How the fishing is incredible those first few casts then becomes a lock box allowing no room for error. Mentally I began preparing myself for the tasks ahead. After the slaying slowed down I sat my rod aside and went to see how everyone else was doing. I figured I had my fun and was in no hurry to get serious. Just while sitting on the bank watching everyone I could see trout everywhere. The football sized fish were dancing over their redds, spashing, coming nearly all the way out of the water as they rolled about spawning. The sizes of some of these fish made my heart beat faster. The sight of it all reminded me of salmon migrating upstream.

            After a few hours I was hoping I could find untouched water.  Mason and I decided to head all the way to the bottom of the spring creek, the area that is nearest to where the Yellowstone River comes in to feed it. We walked maybe ten minutes before stopping at the first hole. He went to a spot I had suggested and I went down twenty more yards to a nice spot. It was not a redd but a nice hole maybe four feet deep and ten feet long. I cast my line into the riffle up ahead and let my line drift slowly down. Sure enough, I hooked into a seventeen inch rainbow. Well this was good I thought. I was now catching fish when I knew it wouldn't be easy. I ended up catching three more hefty fish before I hooked something massive. I thought I was snagged until whatever it was sped upstream faster than I could sprint on land. My rod instantly went horizontal and before I could pull it up the fish had caught my drag so fast it broke me off. I knew that if I had kept this fish on the hook, there would be no way I could have landed it. I was using a four weight rod that day which is considered small for moderate sized fish. Each big fish I did catch became an extreme battle. Some fish were so big I could hardly "pull them" from their line in the current. It wasn't unusual to look at me that day with my rod nearly bent in half. That's part of the challenge I enjoy though, as spin fisherman have their ultralights, I had my four weight.

         Mason and I regrouped. He wanted to fish a hole so I kicked around in the water for a few. It wasnt long before I could hear splashing downstream. Closer inspection, ten to fifteen rainbows all having a good time near some redds. I walked even closer and began thinking of ways to approach in a stealthy manner. I ended up waiting for Mason so he could get in on the fun. Besides, this is the exact spot I wrote previously about having learned a life lesson in fly fishing, maybe this could teach him an invaluable lesson as well. I have a short pep talk and let him try first. My novice friend casts and casts again until his flies land above the fish. His casts are great and at first the flies land a little short, behind the rainbows. It wasnt long until his line was rolling right through the sweet spot. Sometimes the indicator goes under, Mason sets the hook. He's either hitting bottom causing the strike indicator to go down or the hook is coming out of the fishes mouth. I couldnt help but noticed the power he was putting into the hook set. Its easy to let adrenaline overcome the finesse needed. I even mentioned that he was going to rip the hook right out and I could tell he was getting impatient. Something wasnt right when he didnt hook up after plenty of perfect casts. The fish were still there clear as day, splashing about. Mason brought his line in to inspect his flies. The look on his face when he realized he was fishing with no hooks, only line, and that he had a fish on but set the hook so hard it broke his line, was priceless. Im sure that he learned something here, as I did last year, that will make him a better fisherman (see A Day at Depuys for my lesson learned). Its critical to "feel" on the hook set when fishing for trout. These were heavy trout and Mason was using 5 and 6X tippet which is only two to three pound test line.

         With so many fish under my belt already I headed back to Eva's hut for some lunch. I met Chris when he offered me a local IPA in a green can. By now everyone else was sitting around the table trading flies and cracking beer tops. We were all hooking into fish and it was only noon. I could see out the window all the trout that were moving back up. More and more were splashing around the creek now. It was nice to warm up next to the fire but I was itching for another tug of war with a beastly trout....to be continued!

A Day at Depuy's

          One of the best places to fish in the lower forty-eight just might be a quiet place in southwest Montana. I couldn't imagine this wonderful place ever being overly crowded or bustling. For a stream so well known among the fly fishing community, Depuy Spring Creek is a paradise that has a quiet feel. Depuy's just so happens to sit in the Paradise Valley and shares the valley with the very wild Yellowstone River. Depuy's was one of my recent trips, and it is the trip that inspired me to write about my trout experiences. The one day I spent at Depuy's taught me more than half of my season already. Not only is it a challenging creek, its rewards are worth every dime. Depuy's is a pay to fish spring creek, and many people think "what? pay to fish?". Even guides with experience to catch fish anywhere else will pay to fish the challenging Depuy Spring Creek.
       
         I was fortunate enough to meet a good friend named Mark. He guided for years and is a long time Bozemanite. Mark and I have traveled and fished on many outings and I've learned a ton from the guy. Its just been great. Mark and I planned on hitting the creek on a Sunday, and of course the day before the weather reports turned bad, real bad. The predicted forecast went from forty five degrees down to thirty. To pay good money at a challenging place on such a crappy day, it hadn't phased me, we were still thinking about the trout!. Two in our party backed out when they saw the fresh snow on the ground. Also, Paradise Valley is notorious for its heavy winds. Putting the two together was going to make for a miserable day, but still, WE WERE STOKED!

Depuy House, late summer

         We arrived at the creek at nine o'clock am. To pay we entered the mansion. This thing was elegant as hell, one of the factors of this great experience were its luxuries. Betty is the elderly woman who lives in the house. Her dad owned the property, three miles of spring creek, and has kept it open to the public. While chatting with Betty we saw a few other people canceled so we were going to share the three beautiful miles with only six or so fisherman.  We were the first to arrive, first to pick our place on the river.

         The creek has four or five warming huts, all equipped with wood burning stove, wood, newspaper, fishing magazines, and other small things to utilize if youre crazy enough to not be fishing. We had a fire going within 3 minutes while we got our waders on. The weather outside was frightful, but we new the water was warm for the fish. Since spring fed it always stays between 42-52 degrees. Simply put, the fish don't care how cold it is above them, that's for the fisherman to deal with.

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Inside "Evas" warming hut. 

         Mark has fished the placed several times so in a way I had a free guide service, and he got me on fish! In the first ten minutes, within twenty feet of our hut, Mark put me on a nice rainbow. Third cast and I knew it was going to be a good day. The snow was sideways in the air along with the trout. We hooked into many fish. We both started nymphing with eggs and small size 20 black midge pupa. I had my luck on the egg and Mark was killing it with the small dropper pupa. 

       

               A few hook ups later, we decided to walk down to the outlet to the Yellowstone. Mark knew of a spot where some fat rainbows would be eating eggs and or making their beds. Anything that comes across their "redd" will quickly become disposed of, in their mouths. Now this is where I learned a life lesson of fly fishing. This part of my day was the most intense part of the whole trip for me. It is also one of the most exhilarating and adrenaline pumping moments of my life. We were about twenty yards downstream from some big rainbows cleaning off their redds. They were already in eight to ten inches of water so a few rolls on the redd and they eventually show a big dorsal, producing loud splashes. I had my eye on them. In predator mode, I slowly stalked up to within casting range. My feet in a few inches of water and the trout on the same line as me. I cast my pink salmon egg just a foot or two upstream of her mouth. My indicator instantly went down and I set the hook! BAM! She showed me her football sized head and that was the last time I saw her. The hook flew out. Jeopardizing my chances of catching another, I finally calmed down and walk back down stream to let them relax a bit. I was so pumped! I smoked a cigarette and talked to Mark about the approach. Everything was perfect. I was still seeing the fat sows rolling around. They were all over, probably fifteen of them within a fifteen foot radius. This was sight fishing at its most intense! Now I know pulling spawning rainbows off their beds may be considered easy, but we found them and I saw an opportunity to get me a personal best. I told Mark to get up there and he relieved me for a try. He made a second cast and WOOSH, fat mama rainbow showed herself and once again, that was the last we were going to see her today as well. The fish was so hefty she broke his 6x dropper just like that. They were taking whatever we threw at them, first cast every time if we got it in the zone. It was amazing. Mark retreated to retie and I knew I had another chance to land one!  We may have known right where they were and giving them what they wanted but it never seemed easy. Just when you think youre doing well theyll remind you that theyre very keen to fisherman. 

              We each had hooked into one, and we both made mistakes. I knew I hadn't set the rod straight up, I set it horizontally and to my right. That will cause the hook to naturally come right out. Mark probably set the hook too hard or the knot was weak. We both knew they were going to catch a glimpse of our fly line or look back and see us just to dart forward and spook the rest. We had one or two chances left. I slowly walked forward knowing what I had to do. I cast a few times to let some line out and guessed right where that egg would land. Within one second that indicator went down and I gently but swiftly set that damn rod straight up. I got her and I had her after the head shakes and a few leaps into the air. She immediately came down stream and I was stripping the line as fast as I could. Now I have done a lot of cool things that would raise the adrenaline of any normal person to high levels. This trumps any I can think of. She ran and took line and I got it back, I didnt want to fatigue her to death. Eventually I was able to get her into calm water. My personal best fish on a fly rod. A beautiful, FAT, wild rainbow trout. She was the days biggest. We werent able to hook anymore of these fat babies after this, they got spooked. 

             All in all it was an excellent day. Depuy's offers a lot. Its hard to say its the best place to fish. The only way you can get a glimpse of the glory to be had here is to spend a day fishing it. Rain or shine, snow, and wind..the fish are always eating. One thing I'm trying to share with the readers one step at time is how majestic the sport of fly fishing is. Majestic is a word I believe fits well. Once you dive into it and see that its not just fishing, it is an art, youll enjoy it or you wont, but you risk getting hooked. Im amazed at the way some guys can manipulate their line, and whip it around like its an extension of them. Add this knowing you dont just pick up your crappie jigs and hit the water. Theres an infinite amount of types and patterns of flies. People are making new ones everyday, and trust me you do have to be specific with certain patterns, at certain times. If youre off, youre not going to have a productive day. It will drive a man crazy, and it will make a man obsessed. The bottom line is, we are always having fun and learning. The places we fish are just as great as the fish we catch. A moment like I had at Depuys is what keeps me going back. Fish on!