Recently I have been reflecting on how the sport of fly-fishing changes as we evolve as anglers. In the beginning all I wanted to do was catch one fish on a fly rod. After getting a few trout to the net I was concerned with numbers; catching as many fish as possible using any technique and fly pattern. Next I started hunting for big fish. Joining crowds of anglers fishing areas known for migratory large trout. Since becoming a guide I have realized that scenery, setting and company are more important than size of trout or numbers. Which still holds true for any day on the water.
Over the last year I have concentrated on perfecting techniques and have dedicated more time to fishing streamers. After getting over the hardest step of committing to streamer fishing, I have started to learn the nuances of streamer presentation and the thrill of an aggressive take on a large fly.
Following this last winter, after dedicating more time to fly tying, I have taken pride in catching fish on my own patterns. Inventing, or fine tuning, a fly pattern helps pass time through a cold winter, but once you start catching fish on that fly it is extremely rewarding.
This evolution process is one of the big reasons that I am passionate about fly-fishing. It is an ongoing cycle and there is no final destination to the journey. This evolution can happen on any given day of fishing, just hoping for one fish to make the day; or it can happen when targeting new species, or discovering new locations.
As my wife and I are expecting our first child in the coming weeks I have been reflecting on this idea of evolution and change. In a way fly-fishing brought our family together. Pursuing the sport prompted my move to Montana where I eventually met my beautiful bride. On one of our first dates we went fishing on the Gallatin River in the dead of winter. Now, with fly-fishing as my career, we have started our little family. I can’t wait to watch my daughter grow and eventually introduce her to the sport that I love.
Why wait till spring to get back on the water? There are plenty of trout to be caught throughout the winter when conditions are right.
First, you need open water. You can fish tailwater rivers with flows, and ultimately temperatures, controlled by a dam; or fish streams that are fed by natural springs where temperatures are consistent through the year.
Plus, winter fishing is much more enjoyable when temperatures warm up above 20 or 25 degrees. You can still get out on colder days, but you then start dealing with chipping ice off of the guides on your fly rod and struggling with trying to keep your feet and hands warm.
Here are some reasons to give winter fly-fishing a try.
Winter is the best times of the year to have the river to yourself. This gives you the ability to explore more water and cast to fish that are not spooked. Last week I visited $3 Bridge, one of the most well used access sites on the Madison River, and I did not see another soul. I was able to move freely and fish every prime hole or run in solitude.
The best times for winter fly-fishing are usually between 11AM-4PM; once water temperatures have increased. This can be a nice change from the summer when the best fishing is typically either at the beginning or end of the day. You can take advantage of the extra time in the morning by sleeping in, making a hearty breakfast, or tying flies for the day.
Since there are few bugs hatching in winter it is much easier on the angler to answer the eternal fly-fishing question, “am I matching the hatch?”. The most commonly hatching insect through the winter months are midges. Outside of that, most trout are filling their diet by feeding on items that pack the most bang for the buck (i.e. Stone Fly nymphs, worms, eggs). Most of your standard nymph patterns will do the trick; Pat’s Rubber Legs, Prince Nymphs, Copper Johns, San Juan Worms, or Zebra Midges. Typically, I end up rigging a large Pat’s Rubber Leg followed by a small San Juan Worm or Zebra Midge.
Reading water can be one of the most difficult things to learn in fly-fishing. Trout will hold, and feed, in different types of water throughout a river depending on hatches, water temperatures, oxygen levels or time of day. During winter months trout will tend to hold in very specific types of water. They are looking for spots where they can feed without expending much energy and where the water is warmest. This will force trout into congregating, and schooling, in the deepest and slowest holes and runs, that in most rivers are easily identifiable.
Dry Flies in January
Nothing shakes a case of cabin fever like landing a fish on a dry fly in the dead of winter. As mentioned earlier, the main insect hatching at this time of year is a midge. Even though they are a small meal, size 18-24 flies, trout will still actively feed on them through a solid midge hatch. Get a nice dead drift with a midge emerger pattern, or midge cluster imitation, towards a group of rising fish and you will definitely find some action.
That dry fly eat could be just enough to hold you over until the prolific spring and summer hatches.
As the seasons change from Fall to Winter, I have recently had some days off and have spent these chilly afternoons watching new documentaries about a few famous 70’s rock bands: “The History of The Eagles” & “Lynyrd Skynyrd: If I Leave here Tomorrow.” Since then I have been driving my wife crazy by constantly playing, and singing along to, both of these bands greatest hits. As I sit here now singing along to my current favorite song, “Gimme Me Back My Bullets,” I have started to reflect on what has been a great fishing season.
The lyrics of Ronnie Van Zant ring in my head; “I keep on working, like a working man do.” Thinking about my hours sitting in the rowers seat and my hands sore with calluses, but it also reminds me of the hard work put in by my clients through the summer. Similarly to the stories of these great bands, some days of fly fishing are marked by struggle, frustration and hard times. Fishing can be slow, conditions may be hard to deal with, and there are times where nothing seems to go right. Just like Skynyrd and The Eagles got their big breaks and hit records, the same can happen on the river. I have seen clients throughout the summer work through tough times, continue to practice casting techniques and presentation and finally get rewarded by the fishing gods.
Here are some of the “greatest hits” from this season. I hope to see you on the water in 2019!
I am often asked; “How hard is fly-fishing to learn?” Trying to display empathy I typically explain; “It’s not that hard. Once you learn the basics, it just takes practice.” I will also add: “It’s kind of like golf. You’ll never master the sport, but you will learn more every time you are on the water.” This explanation sounds pretty good, and holds fairly true to what I have seen in teaching beginners – but I haven’t truly experienced it myself until traveling to New Zealand.
From Montana, New Zealand is on the opposite end of the world. They enjoy summer during our winter, they drive on the left side of the road and Kiwis more often play on a Rugby paddock instead of a field or a diamond. Despite these huge differences they still use a fly rod to catch Rainbow and Brown Trout. I was thinking: “No way it can be that different than fishing in Montana.” I quickly realized that was not the case. Fly fishing in New Zealand requires a different approach and new skills. It’s completely different than fishing the blue ribbon streams of Montana.
“Bloody savage hook set, Mate!”
During the first week of the vacation we were fortunate to stay and fish with River Haven Lodge near Murchison on the South Island. On the night we arrived we were greeted by the news that another guest had landed an 11 pound brown that day. As we all toasted his trophy over glasses of champagne I started to have butterflies. Even though double-digit browns are not the norm, I was still flooded with excitement to go chasing a big brown of my own the next day. As much as I tried to manage my expectations I still had a hard time getting to sleep that night and sprung awake at the first sound of my alarm the next morning.
At breakfast that morning the owner of the lodge, Scott “the Trout” Murray, was on the phone touching base with other lodges in the area to see where guides had been fishing and what they planned for the day. I appreciated this extra effort in communication that Murray spearheaded years ago in his region. This quick phone call helps to protect the resource, prevents over-fishing of certain rivers, and overall, helps to create a better guest experience for everyone. Scott enjoyed a good laugh when I told him about the typical day at the Lyon’s Bridge boat ramp on the Madison River where 30-40 boats are launching each morning.
As I was heading to the river with Doug Corbett, my guide for the day, we began to chat about gear and what our game plan was. Through our conversation I was beginning to realize that this was going to be a new experience, and I began to share the feeling that a beginner must have when they first pick up a fly rod. Doug recommended I used his rods, a 5WT and a 6WT, both already rigged for the day. They were about the same as my rods until I began to look closer. The fly line on both rods was hand-dyed to achieve a drab, trout-camo, effect. Doug exclaimed that he has seen too many trout spooked by bright green floating fly lines. Tied to the fly line he ran a 14-15′ delicately tapered leader and a single hand-tied fly rigged on the end. I could appreciate Doug’s diligence in the set-up of his rods and in the organization of his fly boxes. I could see how he had been educated by chasing picky New Zealand browns over the last 20 years.
Sight fishing for big trout is why you go to New Zealand. The ability to spot fish is a skill that can take a lifetime to develop and for guides like Scott and Doug – it is almost like a sixth sense. The ideal conditions for spotting trout are clear blue skies, lots of sun, and little to no wind. That day with Doug on the Matakitaki River we had partly cloudy skies and a building headwind as the day progressed. Despite the conditions we still had opportunities to cast to a few big browns that morning. The first fish that Doug spotted, I was not able to put eyes on because of the glare of the water. I took his word for it and got into position as instructed. As Doug coached me on distance and placement of the cast I was truly fishing blind, not seeing the targeted fish and having a hard time tracking my small indicator with the low light and glare. I eventually got a drift through the desired location and Doug started yelling: “Go, go, go, set!” I excitedly yanked the rod, vaguely imitating a hook set, and I felt nothing. Doug hollered; “Bloody savage hook set, Mate!”
Just like that, I had missed the strike and the fish quickly spooked.
Before spotting the next fish, Doug had me take a few casts in a likely looking riffle, hoping we would fool a holding trout with our nymph. I began working upstream with the “little brown nymph” hanging about 8 inches below my tiny yarn indicator. Doug explained that Brown Trout will move up in the water column to feed and that the nymph ticking a rock could be enough to spook the fish. He assured me that if the indicator went down it had to be a strike. Sure enough, near the top of the run, the indicator dove underwater and I was hooked into a strong New Zealand brown. After a quick battle, the “chunky monkey,” as Doug described it, was in the net. It was a small fish by New Zealand standards, but my education was underway and the skunk was off.
As we moved upstream we eventually found a couple of pools that held the browns I had been dreaming about. Unfortunately, each of the situations played out the same, with both of the 6-8 pound browns getting the best of us. Even though I didn’t hook the fish it was amazing to watch them in their habitat and each situation provided huge learning experiences. One of the first lessons was the importance of a drag free drift. Both of these behemoth browns were sitting in spots with conflicting currents all around them. Land the fly in the wrong spot and instantly my nymph was dragging across the current and looking un-natural to the fish. When I would finally get the correct placement, and drift, the fish was more than likely wise to our presence. I also learned the lesson of changing presentation by switching flies, changing size and adjusting depths. We did not go more than two drifts without changing something in our rig. I would get a good drift down the feeding lane, but no response from the fish. Doug did not hesitate: “Change the fly.” When targeting each of these browns we made about a dozen changes before either spooking the fish or deciding to move onto the next hole. The excitement of getting the fish to look at the fly, or turn towards our bug, was more than enough to keep me engaged and determined.
Although I did not connect with either of these monsters I was able to walk away from the Matakitaki with a crash course education in hunting New Zealand Brown Trout.
“Stunner” of a Morning
Fast forward to one of my last days that I would be able to fish in New Zealand. We were now near the bottom of the South Island staying with a friend in Te Anau on the edge of Fiordland National Park. After leaving Murchison I endured a handful of frustrating fish-less days. I was definitely putting in my time and practicing the skills I learned with Doug on the Matakitaki. I had spooked more fish than I could count, did manage to trigger a few strikes but could not connect with the elusive NZ brown.
On this “stunner” of a morning I was heading out with Mark Wallace from Fiordland Outdoors Company who specializes in Jet Boat Fishing Trips on the Waiau River. Butterflies started to comeback as we got onto the water. Mark was talking about the healthy fish population in the river and he explained; “It’s a great river for beginners.” Fortunately it did not take long to loose the dark cloud that had been hovering over me on my last couple of days on the water. In the first hole we stopped in, Mark spotted a chunky rainbow cruising around feeding just below the surface. It only took a couple of drifts to fool this fish with our dry fly-dropper rig. After getting on the board, Mark decided we would head to a spot that was known to hold Brown Trout feeding in the shallows. We beached the boat at the bottom of a big run and started to stalk up the bank looking for fish. As predicted, there were about a dozen browns holding near the bank feeding, spaced about 20 feet apart. I quickly hooked the first one that we spotted. Without hesitation this healthy fish was ripping line off the reel, heading towards the other side of the river, and before I knew it, my line went slack and the fish snapped off my fly.
Mark headed up stream and spotted a bigger brown but it wanted nothing to do with either of our rigs. We both made a few good drifts and each presented a handful of different fly patterns to the fish. Before giving up, I sorted through my flies and spotted a hand-tied Hare’s Ear that Doug had given me after our day in Murchison. On the second drift my indicator dry fly disappeared and Mark hollered; “You got him!” After a quick fight I had finally landed the New Zealand Brown Trout that I had been thinking about for months.
Through this humbling experience in New Zealand I developed a new appreciation for some of the frustrations that all beginners go through. With the help of River Haven Lodge and Fiordland Outdoors I return to Montana as a better angler. To go back to the golf analogy, I now have a more refined chip shot and a few more clubs that I carry in my bag of tricks.
Labor Day is just around the corner and the “dog days” of summer are in the rear view. Hard to believe that the season has gone by so quickly, but there is still plenty of great fishing ahead through September and October. This summer has been filled with long beautiful days, great clients and some cooperative big fish.
June included big water and big browns on the prowl. Most rivers were swollen with run-off from our above average snowpack, but Rock Creek and the Big Hole River still produced through the big water. There was solid action dead drifting streamers and worms; plus some fish looking up for Salmon Flies and Golden Stones.
July brought dropping flows on our rivers and some epic days of dry fly fishing. The Big Hole saw fish looking up for hatches of Green Drakes, Yellow Sallies and PMD’s. The Yellowstone River finally dropped to fishable levels as terrestrials began to crawl around the banks. Meanwhile, the Madison River produced some quality fish on nymph rigs.
Throughout August the skies have been filled with smoke from forest fires from around the state. Despite the warm temperatures, and lack of rain, fishing has remained consistent. Terrestrial fishing with Moths, Ants and hoppers and some thick Trico hatches have kept our trout interested. With a few extra days off through the month I have had the chance to enjoy the Montana summer for myself. I played a tourist by visiting Glacier and Yellowstone National Parks with with my wife and friends; and did some fishing on my own, hiking into the North Fork of the Blackfoot River with my dog Gabe.
Fall fishing should be great as our water temperatures drop, nights get a little longer and the big trout begin to stock up on calories preparing for winter. I still have some availability in October; check out this special offer to come chase some big fish this fall.
This spring has been all about exploring. Discovering new stretches of river, new side channels, new honey holes, new dirt roads and hiking new trails.
I have spent most of my free time in the Big Hole Valley. Floating and exploring new sections of the river and discovering new areas in the Anaconda Pintler Wilderness area. The Big Hole is a classic western river. Flowing through a big scenic valley, fed by cold and clean snow melt, lots of bug life, full of beautiful wild trout and epic views.
Scouting missions are always rewarding! Some days you figure out the super secret fly pattern, others you find the right line to navigate the rapids or other days you spend quality time with the dog.
For a few months I have been day dreaming about a week long float on the Smith River this spring. We successfully drew a permit for the float, my wife and I both got time off work and the I had planted the seed about the adventure with my best friends in Colorado months ago. Everything was falling into place…
As our launch date approached the weather forecast turned south, friends had a change of plans and just like that my dreams of a week on the river crumbled.
Fortunately, I live in Montana and there is an abundance of vacation options just outside my backdoor. To salvage our days off we took a “staycation” by spending a couple of days on Rock Creek about a half hour from our house.
Rock Creek can sometimes be overlooked with all the other fishing and camping options around the state, but this recent trip reminded me of why I fell in love with this gem on my first trip to Montana years ago. Rock Creek is a Blue Ribbon Trout Stream with a healthy population of willing Cutthroat, Rainbow and Brown Trout. Being a small steam, it is only float and fishing option during the spring and early summer. Float trips during this time of year can be unforgettable experience; great scenery, awesome fishing and all while having the river to yourself.
Rock Creek is not only a great fishery, but it offers dozens of great camp sites and a handful of Forest Service Cabins available for rent. On this springtime trip we chose to stay at one of our favorite cabins. The four or five cabins along Rock Creek vary in size and accommodations and can be perfect for any getaway. The Stony Creek Cabin has a convenient location, great outdoor fire pit and is the perfect size for us and our dog.
As we were headed home we both remarked about how we both take the beauty of Rock Creek for granted since it is so close to Philipsburg. Sometimes the best vacation is close to home.
“It’s NOT just like riding a bike, John!” My buddy Josh yelled from across the river as I lost another fish. This type of banter is very common when on the water with good friends, but it also made me realize that practice is an important part of fly-fishing.
A brutally cold winter, working with a new puppy (not exactly a fishing dog yet) and my winter job forced me into a two month break from the river. During the time away I was able to restock and organize my fly boxes, but my hook set was a little rusty. Actually, everything felt a little clumsy; sloppy casts, poor line control, delayed reactions, etc. In that first day back I hooked about 10 fish, but was only able to land two of them. At the end of the day I realized that all the time spent on the river is valuable. Each time out you are learning, improving and practicing.
Spring is the time to practice and start getting ready for the summer season. Get your fishing gear out of the closet, or shed, and get organized. Practice your cast in the back yard or the park. Head to you local river or stream to knock off the rust. Anytime spent practicing now pays off once you are in the midst of your favorite summer hatch.
There is nothing better than waking up to the sounds of a flowing river, brewing fresh coffee next to a camp fire, planning out the float for the day and rigging up the flies to start the morning. Hard to beat life on the river!
Since becoming an outfitter a few years ago I have had the goal of sharing this experience with my friends, and clients, by offering overnight trips on the river. You can truly get on the “Montana pace” by immersing yourself in one of these adventures. This summer I will be running two 4-day packages that will be unique Montana experiences. Dry Flies & Camp Fires is scheduled for July 17-20 and the Fall Big Fish package will be offered from October 1-4, checkout all the details here.
The Dry Flies & Camp Fires package will include camping on the banks of Yellowstone River, fishing big dry flies, a visit to a local hot springs and much more. The Fall Big Fish package can give you the chance at catching “the big one” and gives you the chance to explore the mighty Missouri River.
Near the end of January a phenomenon hits many Montana residents known as “Cabin Fever.” Google defines cabin fever as: irritability, listlessness, and similar symptoms resulting from long confinement or isolation indoors during the winter. These symptoms began to settle in last week following recent weeks of sub-zero temperatures. Thankfully we had a break in the brutal cold and I took advantage by seeking out open water on Rock Creek and booking a Forest Service Cabin getaway for my wife and I.
As I headed towards Rock Creek last Wednesday, conditions seemed to be perfect for a productive afternoon on the water. Temperatures were hovering in the mid 40’s, the sun was trying to peak through the partly cloudy skies and I had a new supply of hand tied flies to demo. As I reached the creek I was discouraged to see that most of the ice from our sub-zero cold snap still choked the banks of the river. After driving downstream and discovering that the ice situation just got worse, I settled on the most open water that I could find and began stomping through the snow towards the partially open water. With water temperatures hovering around freezing, the fish weren’t exactly in a feeding frenzy. After dodging a few glaciers coming down stream, I did find a hole with a few cutthroat that sampled my homemade San Juan Worm.
On Thursday afternoon we packed up the truck, loaded up the dog, and headed to the Moose Lake cabin just a few minutes outside of Philipsburg. Forest Service Cabins have become one of our favorite winter getaways because of their wood burning stoves, peaceful settings and lack of cell phone coverage. When we reached the Moose Lake cabin I was determined to rally the truck down the quarter-mile snow packed road to get to the cabin. With the warm temperatures, my hefty Toyota Tundra quickly sunk into the slushy snowpack and we were stuck. Given the consistency of the snow, my tires were unable to gain traction. Using some “redneck” ingenuity, I shoved my floor mats under the front tires and eventually got the truck back on solid ground. Following the embarrassment and excitement of getting stuck, we finally packed all of our gear into the cozy cabin and we settled in with hot toddy’s and good books. Our relaxing evening was highlighted by a hearty dinner cooked over the wood stove, a good bottle of wine and schooling my wife in Texas Hold’em.
With this vacation from cabin fever, I can now return to the fly tying vise and patiently await the coming spring , or better yet, the next winter adventure.