Dry Flies, Rivers, Trout & Tarpon.: Monsters

Up before dawn to feed the boy, and still didn't have a plan. I could have got on Depuy's again. But, I followed my senses. On to I-90 out of Livingston just after sunrise, still not certain of the destination, but an idea. Passing a possible exit here and another one there, I finally take one. I roll into monster land at 9am sharp. Out of the truck and a stroll over to the river, I'm surprised to see the monsters sipping bugs in remarkably clear water. PMD's in the air, and spent ones all over the water. Oh shit, better hurry. The trout are as long as my arm.

They chomped clear into afternoon. Some too big to hold. And I was coming here to swing the still-rigged 3 weight that had such a pleasant feel on the Livingston creeks, on a little creek here. Ha! Some of these browns could eat those Livingston spring creek trout for breakfast. Water is a little higher now, yet much clearer than before. Fish rising on the banks, in the pools, and in the riffles. This is about as good as it gets here.

The plan a few days back was to go to Glacier today. Fish the Swan, upper Flathead, maybe the Thompson again. Right. I couldn't do it because I remember things. Maybe next week I'll go exploring, Idaho or something. Once in a while days like this are a reminder that sometimes it can be too good, too easy. It's a fun reminder for sure, but I stopped when there were still fish to be caught pretty easily. Know when to say when. I was too worn out to even attempt the evening, and it rained starting about an hour before sunset anyway. I'm not going back to the Fork or to Silver just for the challenge though. There'll be plenty of challenging days ahead, and I'll be remembering this one. Big fish, big flies I can see, and big tippets so I can land 'em right. The morning I drove a couple hours right into perfection, and it seemed like I knew exactly what I was doing.

I'm gonna start and put this one right here. Biggest fish of the trip. First one I threw at. Two-footer.

PMD spinners and brown trout. Perfect RX.

Started with this one.

Second fish I threw at 40 feet below the first one.

They liked a "Jacked Up Cahill" Just pinch it, clip it, and powder it.

Front view of the Jacked Up Cahill

Right up Main Street. Upstream game from here.

Grand Central Rising Station. Podded up.

The fly of the day, a gray-hackle peacock. Powdered. Partridge. It moves. It's alive and tasty.

Even after the secured peacock is all chewed up, it keeps on ticking.

Rusty Spinner Lip

The fly formerly tied as a Swisher/Richards No-Hackle. Starting to get tattered.

Damn, a tattered No Hackle makes a mighty fine looking soft hackle. Should I start tying some soft hackles with these duck feathers? Mess 'em all up and tie 'em in? The trout said yes.