Dry Flies, Rivers, Trout & Tarpon.: June 2021

I overslept some, err, a lot, as it was much needed. The angler saw me coming down the path and waded over to meet me as I stumbled along at 9:30 am. It was a relief to hear I hadn't missed anything, though I wished I had, and was just late to a happening. It wasn't, and I wasn't.

After a retreat back across to the downstream tip of the island that separates the fishy side channel from the wider, faster middle channel, I sat in the grass and watched. The angler, whom I've come to know, watched a sole rising fish. In recent days, he has learned each little seam, current line, and position to be in for those large fish moving in and out of the shallow channel. One spot in particular kept holding a large fish. There were no bugs to speak of and a brisk northerly wind blew tiny waves downstream.

The fish rose nearly straight across the slow current, with the wind pushing directly across the casting line. A tough cast, but the angler made it look easy. The fish ate the visible caddis within a few casts, . I'd call the ending a draw, as the hook worked loose with the fish coming to net in the slack water below the island, but he was caught and fought before going free. The angler won because he got the fish to eat against some odds.

I could just sit and watch a skilled angler work like this often, and even more so on a calmer, hatch-filled morning. In this peaceful place, with little outside noise or distractions, time stands still. This is my relaxation zone, a place for tranquility and reflection. Today it was needed, after a week of dueling with super-charged bullets on the MO. However, I will admit to wishing the morning was filled with rising trout and buzzing drags. I came to fish huge brown drakes every evening. But for a couple of fish early yesterday evening, I haven't fished much, and that's ok. The angler's fish, and some overdue conversation, were enjoyable enough.

The evening of arrival

The angler with a great backdrop

Easy

Just before separation

An evening stalk

Little feller from last night.

. . . On the MO, where else? OK, I am weak. I saw a Craig forecast for last Sunday of a 90 percent chance of rain and a high temperature of 71. I hadn't even seen a tiny cloud since running away from home. I pointed east and put the hammer down, leaving cool, green western Montana and the Idaho panhandle. When the best fly fishing river in the country calls your name, you answer, at least I do. Its Montana after all, four or five hours of driving is just around the block, especially on the longest days of the year.

The story is the flow. Three Fucking Thousand! I've been bitching, moaning, whining, and complaining for several seasons now about the high water. I've been wishing for the "catastrophic" drought year more than anything in the world. Now I have it, and I'm loving the shit out of it! I forgot how enjoyable it can be walking around this great river just about anywhere I want. Don't even need the boat. There's so much fishable water that I haven't hardly fished the same run all week. But I have fished nearly everything between Bull Pasture and Stickney at least once. Well, maybe half of it, on river right. There's so much wadable, fish-filled water. Its been great fun re-learning what's really been under all that high water. Seeing islands that are really islands again. And wading to them!

The fish, well, they are a bit more spooky. Approaches have needed to be stealthier. Full heron mode. But that ain't too tough at 3,000. They're not always rising steadily, or in the same lane. There's groups of a few together at the peak of the hatches. Its just challenging enough that each eat is earned and satisfying. No gimmes. And are they loving the low water? It sure looks like it. They're all footballs. I've caught a couple that are shaped like damn largemouth bass.

The crowds? Well, somehow not really. Its the least crowded I can ever remember seeing it in June, but maybe that's because everybody can actually spread out and fish most of the river. Sunday was rainy, so that took care of the weekend splash and giggle crowd. The rest of this week has seen fishermen at nearly every spot, but only one or two it seems. I've had mornings and evenings with prime water all to myself. Sometimes I see or visit with one other person. That, and 3,000 cfs, has left plenty of room to find a soft spot to land every fish after they peel 150 feet downstream of where I hook 'em.

The sunny days have been typical with morning hatches peaking before noon, and fishing tapering off until the good evening rise. The caddis are not cloud-thick like last year, and neither are the PMD's for that matter, but there's enough of both to get fish rising. You still gotta hunt the right heads. I never saw a fish eat a dun the whole week.

Sunday and Wednesday were the perfect days, with overcast skies and showers, cool temperatures, and bugs. The fish rose all day. I tried to fish nearly all day both days, all but 3 hours or so, and have pretty much killed myself in the process. My back and right shoulder are shot, and no amount of Advil and Tylenol puts a dent in it, but this opportunity doesn't come too often anymore. Fish through it.

Thursday was an off day for some reason, despite increasing clouds and afternoon showers. The evening bite was breezy and showery, meaning non-existent. Friday morning was ok again, but just ok. PMD's fading, or waning, or just pausing? Anyone's guess. A hot weekend will bring back the splash and giggle crowd, so I will go for now.

Three Fucking Thousand CFS!!!

So we have the wonderful, weed-free river, at 3,000! We have caddis and pmd's on the menu. And we have a bunch of hot, fat fish in the restaurant. Without further ado, in that order:

THREE FUCKING THOUSAND!

No fish behind that little rock this year, or in the eddy.

No fish behind those rocks either, but the crossing is easy.

Who says I'm a fair weather?

PHD Island is back!

In all its glory

Upper Sterling

Still pigs below the riffles

Another island back

Thing of beauty

"My" island. Fish doin' it every time.

I want to build a tiny cabin here, on stilts, for the high water years.

D-Gate trail to the promised land

Still fish in this little sheltered channel

They liked the lower end in the lower water

California Island

You can wade across to California Island!

Entire Bull Pasture island is wadable

Both islands below high bridge dry and easily wadable, with fish!

Only a couple fish in this skinny channel

Last year's "killer" channel with no water flowing through it

This is where the evening caddis blizzards brought up countless fish.

PHD Island from across the channel

PHD Island at sunset

View from the camper!

And then there was food. Breakfast consists of PMD's. Best served spent, with a sprinkle of cripples. Caddis for the very early risers. Lunch is a Caddis combo platter, served downstream on a bed of spent PMD's. Caddis may also be served upstream if you like it spicy. Supper is the fluttering caddis special in the main dining area, and PMD spinners in the smooth room. Both available nightly. No duns are on the menu. On sunny days, lunch is served earlier and we close at 2. On Sunday and Wednesday, we open at 8am, and breakfast is served all day.