Holy Hopper Hatch!

OK, I don't carry or cast hoppers very often.  Next to never.  I can't remember the last time I tied one on, though there's probably some record of it on here someplace.  I don't ever recall casting one on the Ranch.  Beetles, ya.  Ants, of course.  I only own a few hoppers, but I remember putting 3 or 4 in my beetle box  five days ago when I got here.  I'm not even sure why.  Probably because there were a few empty slots.

Yesterday was cloudy and looked good, but there was no activity from mid-morning until the thunderstorms with a weak cold front rolled in mid to late-afternoon.  Nobody did any good, and I couldn't find a riser.  

This morning I walked down from Ranchview at 10:00 sharp.  Too early, but it was clear.  Downstream from the lot there was a little protection from the 5-10 north wind.  It still didn't look good, nobody was in the water casting, and I never saw a rise.  However, the air turned nearly dead-still as the morning ended, and I finally saw some callibaetis and mahoganies following the meaningless tricos on the water, but only one or two rising fish that didn't stay put.  As I made my way below the big island, a good fish came up twice in the same spot.  A mahogany soft hackle took that one and saved the skunk for the day.  My watch said 12:12 as I released it.

As I was doing so, I could see and hear a couple of large splashes 150 feet downstream of me.  As I made my way down, there was another fish slurping fairly violently.  What the hell?  This is the flat water where its usually hard to see a nose 50 feet in front of me.  Smutting sippers, but not these two.

I could see some dragonflies in the air, so I thought maybe they were eating one or two of those. There were some other crane fly-looking things flying around, so maybe one or two of those.  I have a few I bought for the Beaverhead a decade ago, but they're in the truck buried in some shit-fly box.  Meanwhile, these explosive eats became more plentiful.

What the hell are they doing?  Then I saw a lone hopper float by me.  Could that be it?  Then another, and another.  Before I knew it, I could see a hopper on the surface almost anytime I wanted, and there were a few trout taking two or three a minute.  Hell, sometimes two or three in 20 seconds.  I had a couple hoppers crawling on my waders.  The water was full of them!  How did that many get on the water so fast?  Most were not kicking or twitching, they were floating dead-drift.  I picked up a half dozen or so from the water, and they were still alive.  Dark, mottled wings sat flush against the brownish-yellow bodies.  I've seen cicadas on the Green like this, but not hoppers, and not here.         

I had only two each of two different foam-bodied patterns in my vest, and quickly tied one on.  The rest, as they say, is history.  I don't believe what I saw, on the water I saw it on.  For a while, a few fish actually became "selective," "picky," or whatever you want to call it.  They were letting hoppers float right over them and eating the next one.  No wonder they don't eat tricos!  I did get some refusals, and didn't feel like I had the perfect match, but I'll work on that in case I live long enough to see this again.  I even threw the hopper to a couple of subtle risers in front of the ranch houses late in the afternoon after all the mayhem died down.  They both ate it to end the most memorable day.  10 big fish hooked in one short afternoon, conservatively. 

So, maybe I won't be so quick to cuss the early morning breeze.  God, do I actually wish for it now? I'm still not convinced that's how they got there.  These hoppers were in the middle of the river, 50-75 feet off the bank.  I don't know how they got where they were unless they blew in way upriver and floated down.  Steve Guest said he caught six at Bonefish, a mile or two above me, so it wasn't just where I was.  But why doesn't this happen on all the windy days when the banks are full of hoppers?  And it wasn't that windy.  I've seen worse, more times than I can count.  

This marks the 40th year since my first visit fishing the Ranch.   I've never seen anything like this.  I've seen fish eat hoppers.  I've seen the hoppers along the banks every late summer and early fall.  But to have the water full of them, and the trout eating them like brown drakes, still blows my mind.  Now I'll look for it every day, although I don't know how I'll do it any different than any other day.  Watch the water for noses, or in this case, splashes.  Like the landmark you tell somebody about, "You can't miss it."  I'll keep a few more hoppers in the vest, and I'll cast one to every splashy rise I see.  I just heard somebody did pretty good fishing the banks of the Beaverhead last weekend with hoppers.  Maybe its time to join the hopper party.  I was right in the middle of it today.  Center stage.  

Pictures don't do these tanks justice.  They're all fat, and average 20 inches!

This is a simplified Charlie Boy.  Lieutenant Dan.

This is every hopper I own, plus a few crane flies, some dating back to the 1990's.  I'm carrying it tomorrow.

Junk Hatch

It's a smorgasbord.  First tricos.  Then some callibaetis.  A few mahoganies.  Some little olives.  A flying ant here and there.  Up in town, micro caddis late in the afternoon, with some more hatching tricos.  Not a ton of anything, but quite a mix, with just enough bigger stuff to bring some fish up in the slick calm conditions.  The rises on the smooth water are so subtle that I couldn't see 'em if the water had any texture.  Yet, they're 20+ inchers sipping whatever it is they're sipping.  Mostly mahoganies and callibaetis from what I can see.  

River left Pelican channel.  River right Millionaires.  Late days at Last Chance.  They've all worked. Today is day three, and the first day I've changed flies from the brown soft hackle.  Only because I needed a change of scenery.  It was working great.  I started today at 10:30 sharp, in the sweet glass run in front of the ranch houses, with the intent of crossing and working downstream for a change.  I needed to get the ducks and geese out of there, so I walked along the river and a hundred or so splashed their way airborne to some other pool out of sight.  Not five minutes after they all took off, I hastily stepped in and started across.  Suddenly 25 feet upstream of me is a rise.  What the hell.  As I'm casting upstream unsuccessfully to that one, another comes up 20 feet across stream from me.  Then another, this time downstream.  I guess I'm fishing here for a few.

Over five hours later, I've made my way up and down Millionaires a few times, had the whole run all to myself, changed flies twice, and spent most of those five hours positioning or casting to rising fish.  So much for wading to river left. They seldom rise twice in the same spot, and never three times.  Sometimes there's wakes when they move.  Some are unapproachable, while others rise a short cast away, like they're daring me to cast to them.  I do, but usually they've changed lanes by the time the fly lands.  Sometimes I get lucky and it goes over them.  They don't seem too picky if its dead and on target.  I gotta be patient, but one or two always seem to show themselves.

Sunny and 70's are supposed to yield to a 60 percent chance of showers and thunderstorms sometime tomorrow.  Just for a day, with a lingering chance the next day.  I haven't planned to move on yet, but it's September you know, and no plans should be made too far in advance.  I'm diggin' the above-freezing nights and warm sunny days.  Nasty is right around the corner, someday.

How about this?

Just a bit to the north.

I could probably finish out the season, in both Idaho and Montana, with this fly in two or three sizes.

I'm trying a new material for the body and tail this trip.  Organza.  It works!  And floats!

This guy makes a daily appearance late morning through mid-afternoon.

Pelican side channel in all its glory.  Fish were doing it just to my left here yesterday.

Evenings at Last Chance

I've never really fished this hatch much, or noticed too many here before.  They're eating them now.

Know when to fold 'em.

This is a Harrop Callibaetis Last Chance Cripple that I cut the wing off.  

A few slashing takes on this Harrop Animated CDC Beetle

I've had to deal with this crowding in the late afternoons.

I shoot this every year, but I'll never get tired of this view, this place, or its big wary trout.

That's a Wrap.

There it goes! Early summer as I know it, look forward to it, and fish it, is over.  Wham.  In an instant.  Ya, its the peak of summer with the hottest temps of the year, but that means its done.  I'll have to cross my fingers that I stumble into some PMD's or Caddis again somewhere between now and next June, though not likely and brief if it happens.  Not in Montana.  

I finally left the valley and headed over the hill to the Sawtooths for a temperature reprieve and change of scenery.  The big Salmon River and the smaller tributaries are all gin-clear.  Some showed a few little trout, others not so much.  I put Galena Pass and Silver Creek in my crosshairs for the trip home.  That, at least, completes getting wet in my "big 5" (Fork, MO, Dillon, creeks, and Silver.) The Boise and Owyhee are scorching hot this time of year.  Others I missed because I lived in Dillon.

I didn't get to fish the MO in all its glory due to high water, and later hot temps. The Henry's Fork continues to be a shadow of its former self.  The creeks were their normal good to great, depending on the day.  They're the most stable fisheries I know of.  A quick stop at Silver Creek, hot and windy. I could retire in Dillon. (Gunner should, would if he could!)

Last morning on the slough with a couple risers on the first bend.

Looked good.  

Galloup's spinner 12:00 high

And another nice one, and not much else . . . 

Fly of the trip.

Cooler high country

That's a pod of rainbows in a deeper hole

Clear water tributary

Main Salmon

Don't see these much anymore!  No buttons, just turn the lever and pump it!

Top of Galena

Cloudy on Silver

Bugs flying.

Last fish of the trip.