Montana - 2004

Above all else one must remain flexible.  The ability to change can make or break a trip.  That was certainly the case last week when Dave Martel and Tom Jewett picked me up at the Bozeman, MT airport.  I wasn't supposed to see those guys until somewhere around noon the next day in Yellowstone National Park.  So I was greeted with "I bet you're wondering why we're here?" and I was.

Rain and mud led to the two of them leaving the park and picking me up on the way to Dillon. I wondered, out loud, Why Dillon?  Poindexter Slough, Big Hole and Beaverhead were given in answer to my question.

So the next morning found us heading for Tim Tollett's, Frontier Anglers (www.frontieranglers.com) where we purchased some flies, a Montana license for me and sought information.  That afternoon Poindexter Slough proved a bust.  Unlike the park waters Poindexter Slough was low and sporting few fish.  We gave it a try - we hiked along the banks, talked to other anglers and found a couple of cooperative trout.  The picture on the right is my first Montana trout and it came from Poindexter Slough. I'm happy to say they got bigger after that.  However, after a long, hot afternoon we gave up on Poindexter and made our way back to Frontier Anglers.  When we gave our report the reply from the young man who sent us there was "Oh, the Slough is low? It doesn't fish well when it is low." and he got no argument from us. 

Flexible, that's what our plans were so with the wealth of good water around Dillon we retired to a motel to plan our next excursion.  The Beaverhead - that was our next target.  High water is what we found there.  High water and the realization that man not the weather controls the water levels most of the time - at least in that section of Montana.   And today man had decided on a heavy flow for the Beaverhead.  Now we had been told the Beaverhead has good trout and the best way to fish it is from a Drift Boat due to tight, brush covered banks and strong current.  And, again there's was no argument coming from us.  Our wading attempt was bold but fishless.  The area we were sent too did provide some wading and had the water been a little lower I think we would have done some business there - but......

So, the next morning found us exploring the Big Hole.  We figured we were set because our first stop put us on some good looking water and a quick scan of the banks indicated water levels were normal.  Not to high, not to low.  After quickly stringing up our rods and putting on our waders we set to work.  And after an hour or so Whitefish were all we had to show for our efforts.  Not to worry - the Big Hole has a lot of water and we were just getting started. So down the road we went. After failed attempts to catch or sight fish we were still wishing for a rising trout or two.  So we decided we would drive from spot to spot along the river and not get out until we saw at least one rising trout. 

We had almost exhausted the possible "fish access" areas when we finally saw a rise, quickly followed by another rise.  By this time we were well off the beaten path and quite far back into the hills and dry land.  We had left the irrigation fields and green way behind and so had no need to rush because we had no one to beat us to the rising trout.  Still, it didn't take us long to gear up and go almost fishless yet again.  What few fish we saw rising were evidently feeding on the last of a recent hatch and the trout having gorged themselves had retired to sleep through the heat of the day. 

We took their advise and also retired for the afternoon to plan our next move.  Flexible - that's what we were so our next move was a big one - Craig, Montana and the Missouri River here we come.  Why the Missouri River I asked and Tricos was the answer. Tom and Dave had been there 10 days earlier, before going to the park, and had caught lots of fish along with enjoying Trico Spinner Falls like you read about.  The question was were they still hatching and falling?

They were.  The first morning was windy and we saw few Tricos.  I was inundated with stories of the number of mayfles and the size of the spinner swarms.  Dave repeatedly told of looking downstream and remarking "look at that some one has started a campfire as dry as it is" and another fisherman replying "that's not smoke its Trikes."  Yea, Yea I replied - whatever you say.  So the long and short of it was we caught fish -  a lot of fish that first morning and most of them we nymphed.   

But the next morning As I glanced downstream at Dave I saw this column of smoke.  Can't be mayflies I said to myself and glancing around I saw another column.  Then another.  And then one of those columns moved upriver past me engulfing me in a smoke like column of Tricos.  Thousands in the one column that passed over me and there were a lot of columns.  Well, it didn't take me long to switch my line over to a top water leader and to tie on an indicator fly followed by a Trico on 6X tippet.

I took no fish on Tricos that morning but Dave and Tom did.  I tried and tried.  I cast upstream, I cast downstream, I mended, I skated, I swapped flies, I cursed and I failed to hook up.  Well, what I did is celebrate when the Tricos quit falling so I could go back to nymphing and hook up.  And hook up nymphing was something I did a lot of on the Missouri.  The fly of choice each day for nymphing was Frank Sawyers simple Pheasant Tail, size 20.  If you were running low of size 20 Pheasant Tails you could get by with a size 18 but you got fewer  hits. 

Now I don't mean to make it sound easy when I say I went back to nymphing and hooked up.  There were lots of fish there but it wasn't easy fishing - there were precious few gimmies.  And when you did get a fish on the 6X tippet and heavy weed growth made it hard to get one to net.  But we got the hang of it after awhile and the Missouri gave us fish like the one below all the while we were there. You might guess that the Missouri was were we stayed the rest of the week and if you did you'd be right.  We fished deep water and we fished riffles that didn't come to our ankles and all of that water held fish.  We nymphed. We fished dries. We lost big ones. We caught big ones.  We had a ball and it was great.  I hated to leave. 

I've got more stories to tell and I'll work on posting some soon so check back and see.  As I add stories I'll put a link to them at the top of the page.