Fly Fishing: Interesting But Tough...

The past couple days we spent with our PA pals, Paul and Pat. Day 1 we fished the upper Wise River and though as always at this season the scenery was stunning--flaming gold aspens and willows, cloudless blue sky highlighting the jagged high peaks of the East Pioneers--but the fishing, though certainly interesting, was about as tough as high country fly fishing gets. I managed to fool a handsome cutt-bow of perhaps 14-inches while Paul landed a small brown and missed as I recall just two others. Pat I think missed one while Gale struck out altogether...not your typical high country fly fishing adventure by a long shot.

Day 2 we headed to the Big Hole aiming to float from Jerry Creek to Dewey. But after stopping at Al's to get a shuttle  wouldn't you know we found FWP shocking that stretch. So back to the shop--nobody thought to bring a cell--and then back to Divide Bridge to float to Maiden Rock. After doing that stretch umpteen times this season about the last place I wanted to fish but with FWP shocking, Silver Bridge and Melrose closed for upgrades and the stretch from Silver to Divide closed for the dam removal weren't much left...didn't want to do the lower river because it generally dies in the afternoon during hot spells such as the one currently has us in its steamy grip (high 80s)...and the upper river is way to low for floating so...

The day was about as bright as any I can recall and though we did catch a few trout had to work like hell to get 'em...For the girls and me swinging soft hackles (#16 red ass) and for Paul I think he got a couple on ants. Gale took honors for high rod with 3 brown trout and two fat white fish. That was it however and from about 2 p.m. to the take out we got just one hit between us. I was surprised how low the river (412 cfs) had dropped from just a few days ago (510 cfs). We barely made it down the skinniest riffles while Paul in his Watermaster did better even it scraped bottom several times. Perhaps the highlight was his raft taking off on its own after lunch...he took off running but the bank was brushy and carved by a deep ditch...meantime we gave chase after getting off the rocks picked him up on the way and fianlly ran the damn thing down...lucky all was intact, Paul dodged a coronary and...well like the man says all's well that ends well...

Fly Fishing: Pretty Day, Pretty Crick, Pretty Trout

First cast I missed a really small brookie; next cast this fat female blasted the #16 Orange Stimulator and...for the next couple hours we enjoyed some of the fastest, bestest little crick fishing of the season. Since this was the first trout of the day and a particularly fat one at that I snapped a quick pix before handing the rod to Gale who promply hooked an equally fat one a few yards upstream. Then it was my turn and two or three casts was all it took--although this one was teeny-tiny compared to the first two. No matter, big ones, leetle ones, continued to attack the Stimi often three or four to a run. The males are especially colorful since spawning is just around the corner in these high country cricks. But even the tinest were fat and healthy and I would suppose happy, at least before and after the ordeal of being stuck on a hook for a few brief moments.

Away from the crick the air was sultry, way too summer-like for our tastes but with our feet in the chilly crick it seemed more fall-like, quite pleasant actually. For a short time the wind kicked up and made for tricky casting but then the wind gods decided to take pity and the stiff breeze suddenly morphed into just a whisper making a hot afternoon all that more comfortable.

What with fresh elk tracks in the sand, the shimmering crick framed in flaming aspens and willows beneath your typical wide, blue, cloudless Big Sky, the already snow-splashed granite peaks of the Beaverheads for a backdrop, trout on the take, the dogs behaving (sort of anyway) for a change...hell, can't beat it.  

Fly Fishing: Skinny Big Hole Trout...

...for whatever reasons have been the norm (for browns and rainbows) all season long rather than the usual exceptions. The brown above is your typical early spring winter-starved version but...A couple days ago fishing the Slough Channel with our PA pals, Paul and Gretchen, we netted several, mostly browns and a rainbow or two, just as skinny. The why of this is more than I know? Theories being bandied about by local guides and experts range from "a somewhat skinny spruce moth hatch" to "not many hoppers" to "fighting all that high water" and probably a lot more I haven't heard yet. Well, maybe? Me? Like I said don't pretend to know and it could very well be just an old man's wild imagination but...time after time this season I recall muttering the same tired tune as I slipped the hook from a client's trout...pretty fish, really colored up nice but (more as an aside to self) a bit too skinny to my way of thinkin'! Hopefully before winter sets in the Big Hole will serve up whatever's needed to put some weight on, though at this stage I sure don't know what the hell that might...Better still all this really is just an old man's wild idea and all systems up there really are good to go...

Pronghorn (Antelope) Rut In Full Swing

There exists a dichotomy in hunting antelope with a stick and string...the easy way or the hard way. The easy way of course is to stake out a fence crossing or better yet a water hole, park your butt and wait for a good shot...an iron will and plenty patience is mostly all it takes to punch the tag. The flip side is to attempt to stalk, which for most of us means within 30 yards, closer is even better; no where near anything like easy still to me the challenge alone to say nothing of the adrenallin rush should you pull it off beats ambushing all to hell. But wait...there is an even better and way more exciting and fun way...that is to get yourself a decoy, wait until the rut starts (about mid September) and...well, if you haven't done it you are as they say missin' out on one of hunting's biggest thrills.  

Antelope bucks are territorial in the extreme. Beginning as early as March dominant bucks mark and defend huge territories against all comers as early as March. Over summer and as the rut nears these bucks gather large harems and gradually reduce their territories to something more manageable. Should an interloper so much as show himself on the horizon Mr. Buck quickly pushes the harem together and takes off putting the run on the would be rival...Here is where the fun begins should the "interloper"  be your decoy.

Sometimes the buck comes right in but more often a doe or does take off in the opposite direction which of course does not sit well with Mr. Buck...forgetting the interloper for now he runs the recalitrant does down, herds them back to the group...satisfied all is in order once again he turns attention to the rival...and this folks can and often does go on for several hours, sometimes all day...fun as hell, nothing like a sure thing...well, like I said if you ain't done it best try it...I guarantee you won't be disappointed unless of course punching a tag is more important than enjoying a fun and entertaining hunt...

Over the past couple weeks we have seen several really nice bucks not far out of town that have gathered some of the biggest harems we can recall...hint, hint.

Guide Wars Come To An End...At Long Last

Yesterday I promised myself and the girls would be my last guide trip of the season...one promise I plan to keep by the way. The season to say the least was a bit on the strange side. Only a handful of trips through April, May and June led to a busy...often too busy...July and August. Other years I sort of put an end to the madness come September but, hell, the outfitters kept calling and I somehow, for reasons still not entirely clear to me, kept saying "yes." Oh well, we need the moolah so...

As usual the season had its share of high and low lights...good news is the good mostly outweighed the bad...and except for the day the raft sunk and finding that at some point I'd punched a hole in the floor of the hard boat nothing really ugly for a change. Oh I guess you could say my recent shunning by an outfitter I thought we had a good working relationship at long last after several rocky seasons wasn't all that great...For whatever reason when we ended up at the same launch point (I was working for Al not him) the other day he chose not to talk actually would not even look my way...who the hell knows?...Although I'm sure at some point over the next few months he'll clue me in so we both know...Anyway I don't plan to lose sleep over it so...

I never did get a chance to look for the steel whatever poked a hole in the raft but I did learn patching one up is not all that big a deal...I think it took all of 20 minutes or so...As for the hole in the hard boat apparently it had been there for awhile, at least long enough to weaken the plywood beneath the several layers of fiberglass for rot to set in...my guess is with the wood weakened by the rot I hit a rock just so and ended up with a couple inches water in the bottom by the time we reached the take-out that day. Anyway I had just enough epoxy and a piece of heavy fiberglass to patch it (temporarily at least). Yesterday not a drop seeped in...

As usual the fishing and the fishermen yo-yoed between awful and pretty damn good. While I can't prove it my guess is I had more really good fishermen in the boat this time around than normal...my friends Doug and Steve, the guy from Texas (sorry) and Joe from Spokane and Steve who grew up in central PA where I spent most of my adult life stand out but...appologies to you other guys who could really pitch 'em as well...you know senior moment, loss of memory, ad nauseum.

So we come to yesterday's swan song...good outfitter, great lunch (never saw such a spread actually not ever close), good guys, decent weather, no wrecks, hardly any competition, decent fishing...all good. FYI the lunch spread included bar-b-que pork and cabbage, chunky potato salad, homemade chocolate chip cookies, homemade rolls/real butter even, homemade desert rolls/apricot/date filling and watermelon... OK a veritable FEAST! What can I say... 

Till next time...  

What A Whacked Out World....

...ours has become. No news there but here's one WILL make your skin crawl...least it did mine. It seems a friend of Al's was fishing up in the canyon when a big rock fell and pretty much destroyed his ankle and much of its hide. In intense pain and unable to walk he crawled to a vantage point whereupon he spied two anglers. Waving frantically and calling for help...you won't believe this...the two...feel free to fill in your worst profane descriptive...jerks waved back, turned their backs and continued fishing. Pathetic as hell I know but true. The guy's son later went back looking and found the jerks still fishing...When asked why...more likely what the f...? They merely shrugged said just didn't want to get involved!!!!

As Al so succintly put it..."What planet the two yahoos are from who knows? But I sure pitty their neighbors and friends...To which I would say "ditto" except for the "friends" part...Like ain't none...

Unbelievable, eh?

The big rain of last week raised the Big Hole from about 400 to almost 1000 cfs overnight...much needed water it put the fishing off big time the next couple days but Al reports yesterday afternoon the top water stuff was once again working great...Here's hoping it stablilizes a bit above 400 cfs this time around...less rock-hopping you know...Anyway fishing should be good this week as afternoon highs are supposed to be in the 60s with morning lows in the 40s and only a slight chance for a stray thunder-boomer or two.

Guide Wars Over At Last...

...hopefully that is. At least it is my plan to not do anymore trips this season. Enough is enough...right?

Anyway, when I started this blog I really didn't think I'd be able, willing, whatever to post every day but did think no more than a couple days between was more than doable but...What I didn't consider was after guiding, especially during multi-day runs, how downright worn out (brain-dead?) some leave me...like no way. So this summer there have been lots of holes. Well, summer is now all but officially dead, my trip book is blank thus my plan for the immediate future is to post on a daily basis excepting those days when we are on the road and have no internet connection.

Since my last post we have been trying to get out bird hunting every chance. Most days we have but the hunting so far has not been up to par. This morning we decided since it was going to get into the 70s this afternoon for the sisters' sake we'd best get out early, make a short hunt for sage hens and, regardless, call 'er good. While it wasn't quite crack of dawn we did get out early enough the temperature was still in low 40s although the sun was well up and the Big Sky cloudless...Not at all hot but for our dark heavy-coated girls way too sunny.

No surprise but after just an hour or so both were fagged. Kate seemed especially hot, so we called it good even though nary a sage hen had been sighted. Oh well, said Gale, look on the bright side, no birds to clean either. 

Hard to argue, eh?

On the way out of town we saw several buck antelope herding harems. While not much has come off on schedule this year obviously the antelope rut is right on...

Hunting: Sage Hens and Blue Grouse

Bird season opened September 1. Sticking to our Montana opening day tradition we headed to the hills in search of blue grouse. Since our best spot has been overrun with cows of late we decided to hunt a different spot. With the forecast for highs in the upper 60s we knew the hunt would be a short one even though the spot we picked was heavily timbered and would offer somewhat cooler temps at least until around noon when the sun topped the surrounding ridges.

In all our travels around Montana I don't think we've ever hunted a place so loaded with grouse groceries...wild strawberry, red raspberries (for us a first in Montana), several red berries and lots of forbs, clover and other lush greeneries seemed to scream grouse but...The dogs found just one, a lone spruce (Franklin's) grouse to boot.

Getting spruce grouse to flush is usually the hardest part but this time around the shooting proved even more difficult...laughable actually if it weren't so damn pathetic. Anyway after Annie pointed it twice and I missed it three times finally connected on numero 4 and, well, what can I say. Sort of deja vue all over again. After the way I ended last season perhaps a few practice sessions, eh?

But then we've found ziltch since--no blues, no more spruce, no sage hens--so, hell, why bother...