High Pressure and Hellish Riverbanks

         If you find that your home waters are exceptionally beautiful and full of wild trout, you may be facing increased fishing pressure over the years as people from all over the world flock your way. There are only so many rivers, and for every new angler that moves to your region, that is one small piece that you'll no longer get to enjoy in solitude, peace, or quiet. 

         Where I live, every year there is open comment on how to better regulate the summer madness on the Madison River for example. Outfitters complain that there are too many boats out during prime-time angling mid summer, and that added pressure hurts their business. As Bozeman grows by five thousand residents a year, thats X amount of hikers, anglers, hunters, all showing up at your favorite accesses. Five, ten, twenty years ago (and rarely today) you could show up to one of many rivers and smile as you're the only vehicle pulling up, the happy river awaiting. Nowadays, if you show up to an easy to access, popular trail head or fishing access, you're almost engulfed in a feeling of dread and disgust. 

          As an angler, always learning, we have our favorite spots, our honey holes, and they too change as we grow. We have our favorite stretches of river that we think about to get through a hectic day at work, or perhaps a favorite time of day at a certain run on a lazy, quiet flowing stream. Sometimes we go days or years between frolicking around the waters waste deep, but it ultimately calls you back, for reasons unknown, often overlooked. We just know that "we need" that moment of tranquility, or we have the itch to hook a trout on a dry fly, so we head out to our favorite stream on a seemingly quiet Sunday morning, just to pull up and have your whole mood turned upside down as the parking lot has turned into a zoo. Whats a fisherman or lady to do? There are a couple options, some better for some than others, depending who you are and what kind of fisherman. 

           Fish the weekdays! If you live in a destination location, you realize that people travel from around the world to experience a day or two, or week enjoying what you have anytime. Vacationers often do not have a set schedule, and are often the ones being guided any day of the week. You can easily avoid where guides take their clients, but I have learned that these are not the ones crowding our rivers. Also its important to point out that most "tourists" do not get out beyond the normal "tourist spots", and they are very easy to avoid. Most locals, hard working folks that know the area and are exploiting for themselves (rightfully so!), have to get out on the weekends. Weekends, beginning in early March have trailheads and river access overflowing with area natives itching to get out to their favorite trail or stream. If you live and work in one of these great places on earth, and you enjoy solitude outdoors, it would be wise to ask your boss to work weekends!

          Get an early start! Most fisherman that want to get the most out of their time on the water like to get out to the river early! Some of the best fishing of the day, certain times of the year, take place between sunup at 10am. Many easy going anglers are going to sleep in, and start fishing much later, continuing to to hit the evening hatches. 

           Avoid the popular areas! Sure, your favorite river or stretch may be the most popular, sought after stretch in one hundred miles, that would be a bummer! However, many of the most popular put ins, bridges, access, and parking lots are so overloaded with pressure, that unless you're the first angler to hit it that day, its just not something to pursue with heavy crowds and pressure.. You may be thinking that the stretches with nobody fishing cant be as good as the ones loaded with boats and waders, but that is FALSE! Most of these rivers and streams have thousands upon thousands of trout per mile, trust me, they are everywhere. You can do some things like simply fish these areas during the off season, or early mornings, and may increase your odds of success and enjoyment. 

           Fish out of season! It seems that July through August is the busiest time for trout fishing in Montana. Guides are booked everyday, every campground is taken, RV's and campers outnumber commuting vehicles. Mid to late summer is also the nicest time of year and experiences some of the best fishing (although I disagree on the latter, read on). This makes that time of year extremely hectic at the popular fishing rivers, lakes, streams, and accesses. The trout are at their all time most picky when it comes to preference feeding and certain flies. So you have highly pressured, extra finicky trout matched up with extremely high angler numbers and sure that can lead to a nice day sometimes, but for me that's a headache. Some of THE BEST trout fishing occurs when the weather is NASTY. That means mid march till early may, and October-November. During these times you have extraordinarily hungry fish loading up their stores for winter matched up with seemingly nonexistent crowds and pressure. As an ex walleye fisherman myself, I always led with the motto "The shittier the weather, the better the fishing" and "fish dont care if they get wet, they're already wet".

           This one is similar to the previous tactic but one of my favorites! Sure, July to August in Montana is spectacularly gorgeous, and it rarely rains those months. However, any other month of the year is bound to throw some weather your way! Raining on a Saturday? Most easy going anglers are going to stay indoors, or maybe take a drive. Put on the rain gear and get out there for some great fishing. Snowing sideways, might as well get out there and experience the beauty of the gloom on a stretch of your favorite river all by yourself, or with a tail wagging friend. Just remember, the cold, the rain, and the wind will keep half the anglers off the water! Its not a bad thing to schedule a day on Depuy's or head up to the park when the weather is 'subpar' for some of the best fishing experiences.

           Walk at least a mile from the rig! There are things an angler can do during the busy hours on a world class river or stream to beat the crowds and pressure. Just add anyone of the above tactics together, and experience even better odds of solitude! If you show up at an access to your favorite river and its full of people, you better plan on hiking out a ways if you want to experience easy going trout and less competition with people and more with the eagles. I always start AT LEAST a mile from the rig, and see what it looks like from there. Now, don't be surprised when there are a few others like you, escaping the hellish outdoor experience of the once a year fly fisherman and his two misbehaved setters ruining your honey hole, or the hollering and yelling of drunken worm drowners at the boat ramp. Typically once you're this far out from the madness, you can really spread out and slow down, enjoying your time there without the pressure or distraction. 

              As more and more people flock away from big cities to smaller, rural western locales, these small rivers and ecosystems will begin to feel the weight. You'll need to walk further and longer to get out there away from people, but this will also open new opportunities for the wanderlusting adventurer. I cant complain or deny my existence here, I am only a ten year resident here in the great state of Montana. These are some tips I learned to beat the crowds and I hope you too can enjoy a moment of peace as things grow and change. Tight lines! -Mike

Smith River Float 2018

           When my good friend Cody first told me that he drew for the Smith River in early May I declined. After a seemingly longer than usual winter, camping during a cold, wet spring turned me off. It wasn't long after his offer when a news story appeared about a group of Smith floaters who were rather unlucky. They were the third group to float the river this year, and early April trips can be very cold. Waking up to snow on the tent is one thing, but group three woke up to a completely frozen Smith River. Fortunately they were close to a ranch road and were able to get help. That was April 8th. Cody's float was scheduled a full month later but its not uncommon to have snow up into July there. The Smith begins its journey to the Missouri River from the Castle Mountains in South Central Montana. It then winds its way through farm land and cattle country before entering Smith River State Park. Here, the river flows for fifty-nine miles through some of the most beautiful country around. The Smith's highly protected waters are the prize that so many cherish and will travel many miles to float. There are a limited number of permits given each year, via a lottery system, which 6,000 people that hope to draw, only about 1,000 or so will be lucky.  It wasn't long before I changed my mind.  Several warmer than average days came in mid April and I was itching to kick my cabin fever, let alone in one of this country's most beautiful places. I mean, what was I thinking saying no?

Camp Baker morning of the launch

                After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, May 7th was finally here. With my truck loaded full of gear and the raft, I began the two and a half hour drive north to the check-in station at Camp Baker. My plan was to leave Bozeman and show up a night early to reserve an early launch for the group, but by the time I arrived my name was already fifth on the list; apparently, 1 pm the day before isn't early enough! Camp Baker soon filled with nine groups, our group of four being the smallest, all the way up to the bigger groups, with around fifteen people. The scene at camp was a lively one. One hundred people all hanging out in a unique landscape, all there for the same reason. Not one soul had to work for the next five days, and the beer count was already taking a hit. The mood was very chill and relaxing. I was a little worried about tomorrows launch, unsure of what the river would throw at us. Did we bring enough gear? Do we have enough food? Is it going to snow on us? How bad are the whitewater rapids with these high flows?

Ranger discussion at Camp Baker

             After a night of rest it was around seven the next day that Camp Baker came to life. People packing up their tents, prepping for the next days, the clinking of pots and pans and oars and anchors. We all migrated to the ranger station where we had a twenty minute group chat with the USFS ranger. He was great and went over everything we would encounter, such as springs, pictographs, rapids, float gates, etc. I'm glad I took notes because he was saying all kinds of things, rather fast, and nothing is marked on the map except for camps and tributaries.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               At around nine o'clock we had to register our campsites with the ranger. 

We didn't have a clue as to which camps were good, besides the little research we'd done, so sort of took the rangers word for it. Our flotilla was small and because we were all ready to go, we ended up being the second group to launch. We carefully loaded all of our provisions for the next four days into our rubber boats, and there we stood before the raging, chocolate milk colored water that we've been itchin' to meet for months. Our boats packed to the max, hundreds of pounds of gear. I actually wondered if mine would sink while going through the first set of whitewater rapids. Once the last bit of gear was strapped tight to the rafts we ran up to the station to tell the ranger we were ready for his inspection.

Last gear check

He dropped his pen, and with a smile on his face, followed my anxious butt down to the ramp. Without even looking over our stuff, he said "You guys all ready for a good time?", we replied with a nervous "Yeaaaaaaah". It was after this that he said "Alright, good to go, have a good time guys!". I was hoping we were set up with the right gear and weren't launching to our deaths. With the water at record flows, I knew this could be a challenge in my raft, which is much smaller than the regular rafts that float these waters. The first bend didn't send us over a waterfall, or push us against a cliff, and we slowly meandered and tapered our way into more narrow terrain. I thought the first stretch would be a lazy one and that maybe we would slowly transition into a more rugged environment. To my surprised it wasn't but after the first couple miles when the environment began to change into that steep canyon country in so many photos.

Our first mile on a new river

                  It was this first day on the river that we spotted a sow black bear and cub. The mom had a watchful eye over the little one, who was grazing on riverside vegetation, talk about a shore-lunch. They didn't fear us, and watched as we quietly floated by. The day was warm and sunny, the river calm and peaceful. There was a calmness in the air, the smell of pine, the sound of the occasional duck taking off, or a gaggle of geese passing by overhead. There was a sense of wonder as to what would be around the next turn in the river. The current was pushing us at about four or five knots, it was tough to sit back and take it all in.

Sow black bear and cub

It didn't take long for our life jackets to come off. The Smith gave us a pleasant, welcoming feeling that first day. Stress slowly turned into relaxation and contentment. Both rafts, although heavy, were navigating impeccably through the giant boulders, shelves, and limestone walls. There are few things more calming than drifting effortlessly through a wilderness such as this. Oh how I wish it would never end.

                  We made it to our first camp in a hurry that day. We left plenty of room for a longer than expected float, or in case something happened, we wanted to have tents up before dark. It only took us three hours to float the days seventeen miles.

Boat camp Syringa

Camp Syringa is the name of our camp for the evening. It sits in a quiet part of the canyon, where the water flows slower than most other places. We tied our boats to the provided 4x4s sticking into the grass covered bank. The fire ring is located about twenty yards upstream from the boats and the latrine was a short hike up into the hills behind camp. We set up our tents and began cooking dinner. We would be having elk fajitas. After a full belly we tried to stay awake into dark, but we were beat. It wasn't long before camp was quiet other than the sounds of rushing water and the occasional goose.

               I awoke on Wednesday morning around six o'clock. I made a cup of joe and took a hike with my fishing rod. The rest of the group was sleeping in. I figured it would be a good time to wander around and explore the area. I fished for an hour with absolutely no luck. The water didn't look all that bad really. At times the visibility was around eight inches. Once awake, everyone was feeling pretty energized and we were eager to get on the water. After a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs and biscuits 'n gravy, we consolidated a couple piles of firewood into the rafts, packed our gear, and headed downstream.

           Our first stop on this day was at Tenderfeet Creek. Here we were hoping to find some healthy brown trout in clearer water. We pulled the boats into a small, clear pool of spring fed water. I was less interested in fishing and excited to keep moving down the river. After throwing our lines around for a few minutes and see what we could see, we decided to cut loose. It was near noon and the sun beat down.

         

Pictograph handprints

             We twisted and turned around spires taller than any building in the whole state of Montana. The turns, so frequent, that by the time you maneuvered the boat to avoid the turbulence of one turn, you'd have to turn 180 degrees to set yourself up for the next one. I've never drifted down a river so wide that snakes as tightly as the Smith. A few more miles downriver and we witnessed another black bear. This time we watched as it slid down into the river, swam across, then stood up on both legs before turning and running into the wild lands. I tried to swing the boat around for another pic but he was a healthy bear and quickly disappeared like good bears do. The river here was swift and powerful. We had our first pictograph coming up, where exactly we did not know. Keeping the boat on a good line and away from rocks was taking most of my focus. Lucky I was to see this pictograph, as it was about fifteen feet off the water, in the middle of a fast riffle. There were five red hand prints in a horizontal line, and a quick glimpse was all I could get along with a quick photo. At the time, it was a dismal feeling, floating past them at five knots, but we would soon see many more.

             

        In the middle of a remote stretch of the canyon there sits an oasis to floaters. The Heaven on Earth Ranch is kind of an odd place. You almost have to see it for yourself. We had read about it beforehand and thought we may stop for a drink, or round of golf. Yes, there is a beautifully kept nine hole golf course out in the middle of the Smith River Canyon. They are happy to serve rafters free hard drinks but will take donations. You can also stay at one of their many cabins and enjoy a hot shower or soak in the hot tub. "Shall we stop?", Carly hollered. Dark violet and ominous, the clouds besieging us were moving in fast. There was friction in the air. "Can we keep moving?" I yelled back. A nod was given. I think we all had the same feeling.

spring number two, before the storm

              It wasn't long after the ranch that we stopped to fill our water bottles at a quiet little spring. By now, the sun was gone completely and the sky was ever darkening. An enormous bolt of lightning hit the canyon rim directly above us, thunder instantly rumbled around us. In a moment, our day went from bright and fun to wet and possibly dangerous. While we covered the firewood with tarps we discussed our plans. The rain began to fall hard. "The ranger didn't mention what to do during a lightning storm did he?" I yelled through the sound of rain pelting the water, but I already knew the answer. We couldn't risk losing precious hours holed up under a shelter waiting for it to pass, this thunderstorm could potentially last all day. We tucked our graphite fly rods down low and slowly left our little cove of cover. With our rafts turned and our backs downriver, against the rain we paddled on Water  would eventually finding its way into every little dry space on me. Lightning clapping all around us. I sure felt vulnerable during that hour on the Smith. Natures power can make you feel small at times. I felt some protection from the canyon and hugged the walls until we reached our next camp.

The rain eventually subsided and we made it to our 3rd camp, Camp Crowsfoot. It seemed as we realized there weren't any trees here to hang a tarp for shelter, the rain had stopped.

Evening view from Camp Crows Foot

We were overjoyed when the sun came out, just in time to set up our camp for the evening. A few more hours of daylight were yet to come, so we hiked a short ways to look at some pictographs that Riley had found. I must say, we had a much better look at these than the previous ones. There were probably twenty that we found.

several pictographs from Camp Crows Foot 

The cliff face that held these had eroded heavily over the years, putting a few pictographs on large slabs on the ground. I wondered how many pictopraphs have fallen off over the years; it would appear with some imagination, that the whole limestone wall was at one time covered in paintings. We saw paintings of a buffalo hoof, a fox, hand prints of adults and children, finger prints, finger swipes, symbols and many more we couldn't identify. I myself am a huge fan of ancient peoples, and this site was worth the trip alone.

The canyon walls grow taller 

             After a much needed refueling of spaghetti dinner, we tried sitting around the campfire to enjoy the natural stadium that mother nature had created around us. I found myself pretty tuckered out after each day. You'd think floating down a river would be easy, but the constant chores of moving camp everyday took a lot out of us. We watched as lightning from another thunderstorm rolled closer and closer to us. The rumbling storm slowly moving our way. It was then, as pellets of rain splashed down around us, we ran to our tents. The wind picked up and lightning was striking nearer. I would experience a rather miserable evening that night. The tent had some weatherproofing issues, and eventually succumbed to the constant saturation of wind and rain. All four corners of my shelter had little rivers, all trying to gather in the middle where I lay inside my sleeping bag. It was difficult to sleep, I was worried about waking up covered in water. The temperature would drop into the thirties at night and I did not want to get wet. Around midnight, fatigue finally knocked me out and to my relief, I woke up halfway dry. I wasn't sure if my tent could handle another night of rains. The next morning we woke up to dry weather, the rain had quit sometime early that morning. We splayed out tents, tarps, and our gear to dry that morning. The suns rays were warm and welcome. We found ourselves getting on the water each day between ten and eleven AM.. Averaging around fifteen miles a day and each day we floated for around three hours, with intermittent stops here and there.

             The canyon walls were at their tallest this day, and within them, there was a 'pictograph cave' that we were on the look-out for. It was river mile thirty-eight we discovered it, high above the river. A small trail came into view around a slow bend. The shore was so steep here that instead of landing the rafts, we had to tie them to trees and let them float. We strapped both rigs together to make a large barge that we used to change into more fitting clothing.

Riley sits on the shore in front of pictograph cave

            After lacing up some hiking shoes and finding the bear spray, we had a quick snack. We followed the trail to the cave, which we could clearly see from the rafts. Little did we know that this would be more of a challenge than we anticipated. We knew it was a tad dangerous and difficult to reach, but we figured that was a warning for the 'average folks' out there. Riley and I climbed up to the top of the trail. There were about twenty different foot trails forking all different ways. I made several attempts to locate the right path, and each way took me to precarious ledges and drop offs. We scrambled down and tried an alternate route. Riley found me and we explored this ridge to the fullest. It was one heck of a hike be we ended up walking about one hundred feet under the cave without even seeing it, just to climb above and get an amazing view of the Smith.  We still had a half day of boating to do and decided we could look no more for this darn cave. With low energy, we climbed several hundred feet in elevation looking for it. There is a sort of illusion that plays out when you're there looking for it. The cave is a lot larger than it looks from the bottom and it throws off your judgement. The ground is pretty sketchy and getting hurt out here, thirty miles from the nearest road, is not a good idea. Defeated, we played it safe and decided to head back down to the river.

Our boats at Upper Ridgetop

            After the cave ordeal, we had about five river miles to go. This would put us in camp between four and five o'clock that afternoon. Our destination was Camp Upper Ridgetop, which sat nestled privately in between two other boat camps along a tight, steep turn in the canyon. The boat landing was directly above a left hand turn that quickly turned into a small whitewater rapid. The sound of the water, the view of a steep canyon wall across the river, and the fact that everything was wet, gave Camp Upper Ridgetop, a rain forest/Pacific Northwest feel. The best part of this camp was that it was surrounded by willows and large Douglas-fers, so it was quite cozy.
A short trail from our boats led to our sheltered camping area. The fire pit sits in the middle of a triangle of three towering conifers trees, and each tent-site is isolated, a few yards from where we would all gather for dinner. It managed to stop raining for the few hours, we set up camp and cooked our dinner. We feasted on elk chili and other snacks on this night. The gang preferred to drink coffee in the evening over beer, I guess we are getting old. Speaking of old; it was the day before Cody's thirtieth birthday! What better way to spend a milestone like that than floating down one of the countries unique rivers, in Montana?

Fun around the campfire, Upper Ridgetop

             After a full belly, we explored our little nook of land. We were completely blocked in by an impassable rock wall to our backs, and across the river, there was narrow corridor of public land, also blocked in from the back. We had "camp deer" in our camp on this day. There were six or seven little mule deer does that had no problem with us being there. With few flat, green areas in this rugged country, this was probably where they spent a lot of time. The scenery here was spectacular. At one point, as it began to get dark, I played a game of flashlight tag with one of our neighbors at the camp upriver from us. They were shed hunting and had climbed way up this large rock outcrop. He would shine his light a number of times and I would repeat it. It was enjoyable, noting they were probably a good half mile away and a few hundred feet up the canyon. This was the only night that we could see and hear our neighbors, not to mention our latrine was about twenty feet from the group below latrine. Besides the close proximity toilets, this was our favorite camp. Its amazing how every mile of river will show you something new, and each camp has its own personality and charm. There are better camps than others, so if you plan on doing a Smith float, research some good campsites, write em down and bring them with you. It helps to arrive the morning before the day you float, to reserve the good sites.

         The rain that night once again determined when we would get into our tents and go to bed. This time, I strategically placed my tent under a large pine tree to avoid as much moisture as possible from the monsoon like rains. I tried to position the tent onto a hump, so water wouldn't pool inside, and I added an additional rain tarp over the original for added coverage. Despite my best efforts, the rains were just too strong and consistent. I was tired during the night that I didn't let it bother me as much, and woke up inside a half soaked sleeping bag. I couldn't believe I still managed to get wet, along with most of my stuff in the tent, that wasn't in a dry bag. It was difficult to get up and pack but there wasn't much else to do. Annoyed that we woke up to a very cold and rainy morning, we brewed some coffee, water proofed our bodies and got to work taking down camp.

Staying dry during the rain

There would be no stopping the rain from this point on for the rest of the trip. We would have no way to dry all of the gear, so if we were planning on another night, we would have been soggy. We left Camp Upper Ridgetop at eleven o'clock that morning.

           We donned every piece of dry, waterproof material we had. The rain was falling at a steady rate and there was a stiff breeze blowing upriver. We turned our boats and backs to the wind again and held our heads down as we paddled seventeen river miles to Eden Bridge. The terrain turned from mountainous canyons, much like that of the Gallatin Canyon, to a whole new world. Suddenly I felt like we were in New Zealand. There were flocks of sheep grazing in fence-less, wide open spaces. Giant rolling hills of green were shrouded in a thin layer of mist. The absence of roads, telephone wires, fences, buildings, and people, gave the scenery a boost of  remoteness. Still, the river making sharp turns every few hundred yards. Black Angus cows dot the landscape along with huge cuts of exposed earth and limestone caves. The pines gave way to small trees here and there with geese still all along the banks. The river began to widen up and slow its current. To make up some time I paddled ahead of Cody's boat and imagined a warm, dry Toyota 4Runner patiently waiting for us at the take out. We passed under a privately owned bridge, which read "Eden Bridge take out 5 miles". I was thinking we were much closer than five miles. After the bridge I entered a pretty large farming operation. Someone was sheering sheep in a huge metal barn. As I silently drifted by, sheep would joyfully run from the barn to regroup with the others. I remember thinking how happy those sheep looked. They do live in a pretty spectacular place. It wasn't much longer after this when I caught up with a group ahead of us, three boats. I was cruising along pretty good, my back downriver; every now and then Id glance back to see where I was going. To my relief, Eden Bridge was much closer than the five miles the sign read. The river narrowed here, braided a few times, I didn't want to miss the ramp. As I made my final turn on this magnificent river, a friendly gentlemen kindly grabbed my throw rope and pulled me in hard against the fast current. We exchanged a few words and I began unloading my gear. About ten minutes later, Cody, Carly, and Riley came down and I caught their rope.

          Eden Bridge has some of the nicest changing facilities I've ever seen at a campsite. I guess this is where part of my floater fees comes in, and I'm more than happy to pay them if this is where it goes. There's dumpsters there to get rid of all the trash we accumulated and a camp host who is happy to answer any questions you might have. From here we loaded both rafts onto the trailer and we began the long drive back to Cascade, down to Helena, Townsend, back over to White Sulphur Springs, then north to Camp Baker. Once my raft was in my own vehicle we made the two hour drive back to Bozeman.

Incredible scenery

         This trip is something I will pursue every year. MTF would like to start an annual Smith River float trip. The more folks we have putting in for the permit, the better our chances. If you'd like to join us, feel free to send me an email. I will post information next year about the upcoming float possibilities.  Next time I would like to add one more day to the adventure. Scheduling a layover day would be nice. We had more than enough food. I'm glad I didn't rely on eating fish, I would have been hungry. The fishing was tough. Cody hooked into a couple of trout but there was literally zero clarity in the water. The river is rated as a Red Ribbon stream, which obviously isn't as good as the many Blue Ribbons we have in SW Montana, but still holds some very respectable brown and rainbow trout. Prime time to float the Smith River is May 25th through mid July, after that, the river gets too thin to float in the bigger boats. I would say a beginner could navigate a large raft down the Smith, but you need to respect the river. I also came to the conclusion that I myself would not float a canoe down this river during high water. There are too many heavy currents, pushing water all over the place, up against cliffs, etc. The wildlife was abundant. The myriad of waterfowl was incredible. Baby goslings were with about every other couple of geese, some trying to tag along with our rafts. Birds of prey, bears, deer, elk sign, and plenty of baetis hatches were visible. We were actually rather lucky to see three bears. We talked to a couple other groups, and people that have floated it in the past, and none have had bear sightings. The weather, despite the rain and low thirty temperatures, we managed to stay relatively dry and happy. It can snow every month out there, so its wise to always bring a bag with full winter gear, including the infamous 'goggles'.

View from our hike looking for the cave

The East Gallatin Proves Again! 6/12/13

       The East Gallatin has once again proven to me that it remains a top-notch fishery within the city limits of Bozeman. Having such a place so great, and under-fished, ten minutes away, I often forget its even there. With the big rivers also within a reasonable driving distance, many people don't pay much attention to the East. The day was June 12, 2013. Thunderstorms were threatening my day in the water and time was against me. The temp was seventy-five degrees and the barometric pressure was falling. Water level was a bit high but visibility remained well enough for an excellent day of fishing.
     
         I started off at the Cherry River fishing access right off of Frontage Road. I had rigged a nymph-style, red san juan with a pheasant tail flashback on the bottom. The first hole I fished was at the end of the meandering foot trail that branches off from the main walking path. There is a nice little informative display about the fish that are found in the East Gallatin. It often poses as a good place for visitors to watch a fisherman catch a trout. Today I was on display, performing a handful of catch and releases for an audience of three people. It was enjoyable for me and them alike and I eventually had to move on. Around the next bend there are a couple of good runs but nothing produced fish. I crossed the river which was knee high and reasonably easy to pass. I made hast to find another similar hole such as the previous before the weather turned.

         By now, Im fairly secluded from yards and trails. Way back deep in the oasis that is the East Gallatin, I was hearing trout left and right. Big fish slurring in the shallows under trees. Little trout were flinging themselves out of the water about every eight to ten seconds. I was getting a feeling that these fish haven't been disturbed since last fall. The incoming weather was also for my advantage. I managed a few more twelve inch rainbows and a few more snags, resulting in using up my leader. I figured since I had a short leader, why not tie on a streamer? I chose a fairly heavy, large black streamer. I'm pretty good at pitching them right into the strike-zone, sometimes its within the same area as a basketball hoop. The risk at hand is losing a good fly and the time lost re-tying. The rain had started lightly falling and the wind had picked up. I was inside of this miniature wilderness which was coming alive as the thunderous anvil remained ominously in the background. Deer were on the move, birds and waterfowl were flying with a mission it seemed. The trout were hitting bugs off the water left and right still, and I now had a streamer in hand.

          I was quickly targeting the banks of either side, where there was slower moving or still water. Often with a backdrop of rip rap or gnarled up driftwood, bushes, and sometimes a car, I cast within an inch of the bank. The sound of the heavy streamer hitting the water will turn the head of any predatory trout. Brown trout are the beast within these slow pools of water. I noticed a small piece of water that was much slower, the current blocked by underwater debris. I knew there should be a fish lying there. The first cast hit the water with a hefty splash and I could see a bronze flash, a turn of the head and my streamer inhaled. I set the hook hard knowing what I had. The water then exploded and the fight was on. I was using a four foot leader with some 3X tippet tied on. I wasn't all that concerned about the tippet breaking until he ran into some deep, fast flowing water. It took me about three minutes to get him in calmer water. He then got tangled up in some sticks and I had twenty feet between me and him. I ended up getting him freed and to the shore. I snapped a few pictures, revived, and released him. I didn't get a length, but to me that was not important. It was a heck of a fish for such a small river and a very beautiful one at that. I managed two more nice browns on my way back and missed another nice one, perhaps the biggest of the day.

            Overall, it was an absolutely epic day in my book. I'm still avidly learning this sport and its great when you can catch a lot of fish. This greatly speeds up the learning process when you have so many opportunities to hook a trout. Its better yet having wild trout at the end of a line. That adds another layer on the cake. I managed a dozen or so rainbows and small browns with my nymphing set-up and three very nice fish on the streamer. I enjoy fishing both styles, but the process and reward of effectively using a streamer is incredible. Sure the East G. is a smaller river and has plenty of small fish, but it holds some very big trout, perhaps more so than the Gallatin River. I will always appreciate the East Gallatin River, it proves to be a quality river with little pressure right at home. Maybe I will see you out there in the water!

Streamers 101

               I was going to call this section "newbie corner" or something like that, but I myself was just a newbie fly guy a couple of months ago. I learned every time I fished, much like everyone else out there who is not a master angler, I learned lessons, took note and got better. For a guy like me stepping into the fly fishing world, I come up with weekly awakenings or revelations where things come into sight all of the sudden. I will be fishing and then out of nowhere I will yell with excitement, "WOO HOO I got it!", after I've mastered or succeeded with something like mending line, or tying properly tapered leaders with tippet, etc. It happens every so often where Ill take a good firm step forward and can throw a little bit more confidence in my bag. This has recently happened to me with fishing streamers.

        This 101 Id like to go over my recent trout fishing revelation. I've had such a hard time with streamers that is was driving me nutty. I had a background in swim baits and have had much success with spinning swim baits but not fly fishing streamers. The first problem I faced was getting that nine foot leader and fly line down to where it needed to be. If you are a newbie you may slap the appropriate weight on and toss into a pretty turbid, good looking hole hoping for a fat trout if the newbie knows they're in there. Alright, so the newbie hopes he's not getting snagged because he's just letting that  streamer swirl around in the deep hole. He cant feel a strike because he has barely any sensitivity in his rod while the line is swirling around without tension. If he strips or has a taught line, he can feel the lure but knows that the streamer isn't getting down deep enough. This may discourage someone just starting out. He makes another cast, right next to the bank where a tout awaits in a nice slow eddie behind a pool. Right when his streamer hits the water, he watches as his fly line, caught by current drag, sucks the streamer quickly away from the fish. Lets try this again. Another cast, this time right into the deeper pocket pool itself. So while he believes since the streamer has made it down to the bottom he might get lucky and maybe the fish will take it. He's trying to mend the line here and there to keep that streamer right in the hot zone. He still doesn't know what the lure is doing down there and this can be discouraging. Meanwhile while two trout have already nibbled and spit out his streamer in 1/10th of a second because there was no connection/sensitivity, too much slack line. This could go on and on until eventually, a trout big enough eats the streamer and hooks itself. The smaller fish are harder to feel on the heavy fly line, and so blindly bouncing it off the bottom is difficult.

            That was me for many days. Always frustrated at why I was unproductive with streamers when I heard how great they are. I was under the impression that streamers were a lot like the rapalas and spinners, this is true because both represent fish prey, but they have to be fished completely different. I felt there was a barrier between the fish and I when I used streamers. I've learned a few things the last few days that can help one beyond the hurdle of figuring out the initial first steps to becoming very productive with streamers.

           First, good casting is needed to succeed with streamers. Think bass fishing. In most of the river around here there are sections of river with slow moving water around bends and under banks. The slowest water is along the outside of either bank on straight runs or on the inner side of a bend. Because the water force is less here, the trout stack up right along the banks, these are the fish we are after. The number one predator of streamers are brown trout. Big browns especially, sit under brush and low hanging foliage which provides a resting area and a safe place from predators. These resting areas will often be in tight pockets between trees, near the bank, between log jams, and on the edges of slow moving bends where there will often be a deep bank. These are the areas to focus on. There are just as many of these pockets as there are runs, pools, and riffles. I've spent a lot of time fishing runs and pools with streamers but its hard to manage the line and to guess where your bait is unless there is slack water you can access.

            Now, you really need to adjust your rig away from a typical nymphing rig and more of a bass rig. Choose whichever streamers you like. I prefer the ones with a bit of weight in them. I use a 5 weight rod, so I will usually use a small weighted streamer with an additional split shot three inches above. This helps with action and control, that's right, there's actually some control and sensitivity now. Experiment with weight. You don't want something too heavy but it also needs to be heavy enough to get down to the fish and act realistically. I find myself pitching into very tight places where a big brown could be waiting and I would need to put that streamer right on his nose. The weight its a contributor to casting. The leader is the next important subject. You can take a 9 foot 5x tippet and cut it in half or less depending on how much weight you're throwing. The shorter leader allows for much more control and sensitivity to strikes. The control factor of having a 4 foot leader makes all the difference. If you cut off too much or are getting to the thick part of your leader, It's ok to add some 1x or 2x tippet. A sturdier/heavier line will act better with something like a big streamer.

Streamers with weight provide better control in my opinion

          Ok, you've got a better setup for streamer fishing an now you need to know how to fish them. I find it most productive to target the areas I mentioned before such as slack water next to moving water, the slower water next to banks, and between jams and brush piles. Wade in to the water depending on how clear the water is. If its real muddy I get as close as I can to pitch a white streamer next to the bank. Often the water will explode as the trout that you knew was there pounded your streamer. This is probably the funnest part of this kind of fishing. Its amazing how many trout sit next to the bank. The secret is casting the streamer within inches of the bank, and give it all you can to let that thing sit there until it starts drifting on its on. If you haven't had a strike by then, just strip and twitch your rod until you're out of the strike zone. The strike zone is literally a foot or less sometimes and controlling the fly line is something to practice. The current will want to pull your streamer back into the middle and not allow the streamer to stay in that spot long enough. If you can get your bait to stay in that zone for, oh, three seconds or more, you'll be getting fish. Cast and move cast and move. The day can yield a high number of fish by doing this when the barometer is falling especially.

          Streamer fishing takes some getting used to. The least a beginner can do is set themselves up for success. It took me a little over a year to build up the confidence I have for them now. I cannot wait to get back out there and put on a streamer. Thanks for reading today and check back for updates or reports!

The East Gallatin River

               The East Gallatin starts off north of Bozeman as a small stream. As it makes its way west the river picks up a few spring creek tributaries and other run off creeks. By the time the East Gallatin meets up with its big sister, the West Gallatin, it's almost the same size. Most of the river meanders through private land so wading is needed to fish it well. The East Gallatin is considered navigable and the deeper, wider, western parts are float-able with tubes. This particular river is often overlooked by the majority of fly fisherman. Most are out enjoying the bigger well-known rivers that are nearby. The East Gallatin offers plenty of trout that, unlike the bigger rivers, are much more willing to take whatever is offered to them. The river is also very close to home. What a great place to go if you don't want to drive more than fifteen minutes to wet a line.

Upper section near Cherry River access

               With access right in Bozeman, the upper section is a quick escape to trout land. One could walk around a  few bends and suddenly be lost within thick deer and bird habitat. The sounds of the outside world are swallowed up by the rushing water and bird chatter. The rivers upper section is all around smaller, with rapids, runs, and pools. There are plenty of trout that live in this ten to fifteen  foot wide river section. I've had good luck here during fall, winter, and spring. I like to fish the upper section of the river when its windy or the weather is bad. The trees in this area of the East provide plenty of cover from the elements. With tight spaces, trees and thick brush, a smaller 7 foot rod would be practical.

Middle section

              Downriver from the Bozeman accesses (Cherry River off of Frontage Road and East Gallatin Recreation Area off of Griffith and Manley) there are a few other accesses. This is the middle of the East Gallatin and it spans from northwest of Bozeman to Belgrade. I use Google Earth to find all of the bridges and then see what kind of parking it provides. Bridges are legal access in all of Montana's navigable rivers. From then on you've got what seems like endless miles of trout water all to yourself. The trees that surrounded the East Gallatin a few miles upstream are now replaced by bits of trees here and there along with a few houses. Lots of rip rap used to secure the river from moving through peoples yards is scattered around bends. When flows are normal one could easily walk the banks without having to be in the water. 

Lower-mid section

              The further downriver you go, I believe the bigger the fish you will find. The river downstream from the middle section widens and deepens causing the flow to slow down. Big brown trout thrive in this kind of habitat where minnows, insects and other aquatic animals live. Streamer fishing targeted at the undercut banks will provide, from what I hear, some very nice brown trout. I tend to focus on this downstream section more this year. I believe it gets a lot less pressure and certainly a lot less live bait pressure. Waders are a must and a tube would be ideal for the western portion. The deep water and high banks make for constant wading. This section of the river is the most secluded section and offers one the ability to escape into Montana's great trout wilderness. Both sides of the bank from here on down are occupied by vast fields of wheat and grass. Its easy to get lost in such a slow moving, beautiful place. 

               The East Gallatin offers many opportunities to catch trout, hone in on skills, and enjoy the peace and quiet of the outdoors. The amount of nature one absorbs while standing in the East Gallatin, listening to the wind and the trees, the flowing water, birds, and among other things, catching trout, is what were really out here for. Too many people now a days are stuck in urban jungles or places without wildernesses and don't get out enough to really enjoy the outdoors. The East Gallatin provides this in an overlooked place right next to home. 

\

Quick Tip: Trout Photography

        It was probably the second or third outing to Hyalite Creek that I realized how well the beautiful colors and markings of trout could be captured. It was a small brook trout I had taken a picture of with macro settings that inspired me from then on to photograph nearly every fish I've caught. All of my photos have been taken with an eight megapixel camera phone. Its quick and easy to take out, snap a photo, and continue with what I was doing.
     
        I was experimenting a little bit when I snapped my favorite picture yet. I was too far in the middle of a fairly quickly flowing river to get a good picture without the risk of losing my phone. I held the fish by the line so the water was gliding beneath it, sort of splashing and turning slightly back and forth. I took as many pictures as I could and quickly released the fish.

         An hour or so later, I looked at my photos and first noticed the nice colors on the fish, but there wasn't much I could do with a fish that looked so awkwardly hanging by a line. I turned the picture ninety degrees to the left and it looked just like the fish swimming through the water. A quick cropping to cut out the fly line, and a lomo filter was all that I used to bring out the real color of the scene. A swimming fish was created out of a somewhat dull photo.

          I've found many neat photos can come from photographing trout. People have been doing it forever because its not hard to take a bad picture of a trout. Trouts ever so changing beautiful colors, the suns vibrant light rays, crystal clear water, and bright green vegetation make for excellent captured moments. Macro settings are a must if taking a picture closer than ten inches. Next time your'e fishing, bring a decent camera, don't get it wet, and take some great pictures to share with your friends. They're some of the fish that YOU'VE caught and now you will never forget them.

Taking many pictures gives you more to work with in this case and increases the chances of capturing a good shot.

A Quick Look: the Girdle Bug

  Its almost May and the weather here in southwest Montana is going to improve. The ground has thawed and insects are beginning to move about. The trout are also becoming more active as the days get longer and longer. There's one go-to fly pattern I've quickly come to enjoy fishing with. The Girdle Bug. The GB doesn't represent any one terrestrial insect, but has a silhouette and rubber legs that look like a tasty wad of dead drifting, crunchy, bug. The Girdle Bug can trick a trout into thinking it's a salmonfly, grasshopper, minnow, or crayfish. Regardless what it looks like, this fly works!

       
          I find hook sizes six through ten work great. I'm usually using a six to produce impulse strikes and larger fish. The bait comes in many different colors and patterns. I stick with black and brown. The Girdle Bug can be effectively fished the majority of the warmer months. Around the time the early perennials have started to come up is when I believe the Girdle Bug can be used. Use the GB as a top fly with a small dropper underneath. When I was learning to cast I would use just the Girdle Bug and no dropper to avoid tangles and knots. An appropriate sized split-shot weight between the two or above the top fly works best. Many trout hang out on the outside of the far bank furthest from path that fisherman walk. So, cast upstream and as close to the bank as you can. Placing your indicator around 7-8 feet allows your bait to drift and bounce along the bottom realistically.
       
           The Girdle Bug is a great go-to fly to use in freestone streams and rivers. Its big enough to attract the large trout but can make the smaller guys strike on impulse. The rubber legs move while the rig is dead-drifting so it has action of its own. I've gotten strikes on the back swing while floating down river as well. It can be retrieved with action but dead drifting seems most effective. Whether you're new or know all about the sport, the Girdle Bug is a good fly to have in your fly box during the non-winter months.

River Fishing Trout: Winter Months

        River fishing trout in the winter months can be challenging and unpleasant. The weather can contribute to regular difficulties and make fishing much harder for a novice like myself. The wind is much colder on the exposed parts of the body such as face and hands. It's already hard enough fishing on a windy day for a beginner, let alone being warm while doing so. The water temperature of the streams are at an all time low. Putting ones hand in a cold river to release a fish can ruin the rest of the day if you cant get warm and dry. The lack of sun in the winter also factors into making it a harder time to fish. The fish are most active in the winter when the sun is at its highest. The longer the sun is shining on the river, the more the water heats up. During the winter solstice is probably one of the most difficult days of the year to fish. I'm not saying fishing is impossible on this day, its just that, with the lack of daylight, the water is going to stay very cold. Obviously, this very cold environment causes trouts metabolism to slow and they do not need to feed as often. With the bite being off during this time of year, many anglers don't want to fuss with the cold, and sometimes fierce winter weather. Remember, many trout anglers wade IN the water. A few hazards come into mind such as ice chunks and ice flows. If you lose your footing and fall below the surface, hypothermia can very quickly take your life.

       
          So the action is dull and the weather stinks, right? Well no. River fishing in the winter can be a rewarding experience. In Montana, like many other trout states, the mountainous terrain causes for unforeseen weather fronts and ever so changing weather reports. Most of us aren't going to run out to the river when there's forty mph winds or whiteout conditions, that would just be stupid; but for the love of trout, some will do it. You need to find yourself a day where temperatures are thirty degrees or more. I find that if the outside temp is below thirty degrees, trout fishing is very slow. There will be plenty of days where it is warmer than thirty degrees. So bundle up and bring what you need to stay warm. Later I will explain how to multiply your factors for success during this difficult time of year.

A warm winter day on the Gallatin River

         Lets say its late December and you've got the itch. Most public streams in Montana are closed this time of year and all that remain open are the big, vast rivers. Here in Southwest Montana, I have been fishing the lower Madison River and all stretches of the Gallatin River this last winter. I've had a lot of success! No matter where you go, as long as there are trout, you will hook up in the winter. If you have many options to choose from you should find which river would fish best in the winter. All rivers are different. Some have minerals which feed micro food which brings more trout food in the system. Some are tail waters or spring creeks which tend to be much warmer in the winter. These warmer bodies of water will have more active fish this time of year. The Madison River and all spring creeks will be significantly warmer. Regardless, wherever you find yourself putting on your waders, I'm willing to bet it is scenic and beautiful.

         I mentioned before that multiplying factors for success is important. Its simple. The more you do to make your presentation viable to winter trout, the more likely you will catch them. First we need to know that, since trouts metabolisms slow down in the winter, trout need to gain the energy they lose, plus some, while pursuing food items. Trout are constantly deciding whether or not insects or small fish are worth the energy to move and chase. It takes a small trout less energy to move further to eat than it takes a large trout, therefore the offering needs to benefit the fishes energy output. Small fish are less likely to chase a big minnow or sculpin and more likely to eat several small insects instead. Big trout, I've noticed, will go out of their way to eat a small trout. The energy output is high but they gain enough to satisfy their metabolism longer. Large trout will also be taken on the smallest flies this time of year but it needs to be presented close to the line the fish is concentrating on. Big baits, such as F-7 or F-11 Rapala, jigs, and large streamers will catch some big fish this time of year. The right small fly will also consistently catch trout.

Big trout/big crank bait

         Another thing you'll want to know is where the fish are this time of year. Out of all of the rivers I fish, this rule tends to stay the same. Trout are in deep holes, or deep slow moving runs. The brighter the sun is shining, the shallower the fish will move. Google Earth has been a big help for me this time of year during the hunt for deep holes along the Gallatin River. Every deep hole I've found has held many large trout. I found it was difficult to get my streamers and flies deep enough and resorted to crank baits and jigs. If you're fishing water where fly fishing is comfortable, the smaller the fly the better, and big streamers will produce.

Copper john #18

         The baits. You cant beat prince nymphs, zebra midge, or copper johns # 18-22. On sunny days I use dull colored flies and on overcast days I will throw shiny, flashy flies. I am still a very beginner dry fly fisherman so I cannot write about the subject in depth. There will most certainly be hatches on calmer days. If you notice many fish rising and you want to participate, try to match your pattern with what you see and go a size or two bigger. The fish tend to be less picky in the winter as food isn't as plentiful. So when a big brown trout in a deep hole under a bridge sees my big crank bait slowly chugging along near the bottom, it realizes that its a great opportunity and will quickly accept my offering. Earthly colored jigs such as grey, brown, dark purple, green, and black out fish bright colors. Personally, I didn't have much luck with spinners either this time of year. Black and brown wooly buggers, both dead drifting and with action, caught trout. Egg patterns work VERY well on top of a small dropper. Red San Juan worms continue to produce into winter as well.

            Winter fishing has its ups and downs. There are no birds chirping as the sun throws its rays over the cottonwoods down around your feet. The absence of leaves and green grass make the rivers look baron at times, as a howling cold wind pushes against the surface. If the fish aren't biting, there aren't many other reasons to be out there. Then again, there are days which are exceptional. Sometimes a calm forty degree day can yield thick, heavy snowflakes that fall silently amid the sound of the river. There are days that are unseasonably mild and you'd think that spring is only days away. Many people who spend time in the water during summer are out of town during the winter. The traffic is much lesser than that of early summer, where guides with groups of people from out of town are out and about. Fishing in solitude is one thing many fly fishers seek while catching trout, and during winter, one could certainly find that.

          There you have it. A small portion of the basics that I have learned with a lot of patience and frustration. Starting off with a spinning rod and transitioning to full time fly fishing during winter has taught me some good lessons. Trout aren't as easy as other fish. I expected to catch right on, and yes, with some luck I actually did pretty fair. I think that has to do with the sheer number of trout in the waters around here. Eventually a hungry trout is going to see your fly and give you a taste of the joy they provide. Its not so hard to fool a trout but it's a challenge to keep fooling them over and over again. I will hopefully spend a whole lifetime learning about these beautiful cold water fish.

                                                   I thank you for reading my blog.
                                                                  Stay tuned!

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.

"

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!