Brownies

Mmm hmm

There's a few fish working a little flat upon arrival, and I take three very quickly. Long skinny ones that have me scratching my head a little.

I can't locate any more for a while, but then Forget-a-Lighter and I enjoy pretty much non-stop action with a light hatch throughout the day. It starts about 11:00 a.m. We're not really fishing too hard. We spend over 3 hours at Weave-a-Willow riffle, where a few fish just keep feeding and providing philosophical entertainment. It's one of those change of the fly spots where we keep throwing over the same fish and get to know them a little. They all know we are here after I stick this guy in the first 5 minutes. We're throwing straight up the creek at 'em. Fly line, leader, and tippet over their heads, but they keep rising.

First one from the riffle

Last one of the afternoon

We finally leave and stop at the Big Pig riffle where there's a couple doing it plus some regulars. I get the two pigs to eat and miss both of them. I'm a little rattled, but get a second chance and manage to redeem my tired self. Well, that's the excuse anyway. But the first cast and last cast end up being the two fish of the day, at least in this state.

Evening back in Montana provides a little action, but it's not red hot, and it is reported that there's not nearly as many bugs as there was the previous two nights, when Caddis were crawling all over the trucks.

I am summoned from downriver to come up and catch a certain fish that is rising off a certain little grassy point, inches from the bank where he can't being caught. "Probably a nice one." I answer the call of this fine gesture and get ate on the first cast, but miss it. After a short rest I'm given a second chance and get this guy. (Remember this)

What an evening to be in Montana

The little grassy point on the golden bank.

Buster wants to eat again this morning!

This morning he's there again, in the little pocket inches off the little grassy point. I just have to.

The little slot on grassy point

The morning is steady with an upstream wind allowing me to work up the golden bank, mowing down fish after fish.  I have the whole thing to myself, from the barn to the big turn. The afternoon wind increases to gale force just as predicted, so that ends the morning, but it's a damn good one. Just a little reminder to self. Never leave Barrett's when the wind is howling early, thinking it's going to be that way all day. 

One of the three flies for the last two days

And still . . The undisputed pmd champion of the season, by knockout.