Fly Fishing: Plumb Worn to a Frazzle.

For me this has been one strange and grueling guide season. I haven't guided the Beav in so long I almost forget how to get there...Instead been day after day rowing the Big Hole which is still running about twice the normal flow. All in all a grind that is really starting to wear on this ol' boy. Worse thing no end in sight.

Last week I rolled out at 05:30, blasted off to Twin Bridges (7:30 pickup clients) then back down to Anderson Lane and on to the river; (one day I launched clear the hell up at Fish Trap) then haul ass back down to Anderson Lane back to Twin and finally, usually along about 6 or 6:30 home at last. One day I did haul the fishermen, 86 year olds to boot, over the tooth rattling High Road instead of running up and down the highway...not a good choice it turns out and one I promised self NOT to repeat anytime soon...

Who knows what this week will bring but with my luck...Anyway the saving grace has been most days the dry fly action has been pretty good and that always puts everyone, including me, in a better mood; somehow seems to erase the pain of all that down time on the road. Better still the trout have been eating big, easy to see dries and that of course tends to make life easier for all parties...My gig most days has been to simply park next to a skinny riffle and let the fisher folk fire at will...Surprise, surprise the size of some those pretty ol' brown trouts abidin' such skinny water, eh? I love it...

One late morning the trout suddenly decided to stop eating Elk Hairs for no apparent reason, i.e. still moths on the water, caddis bouncing about. Naturally I searched thru my boxes hoping I guess for something along the lines of Devine intervention. When no words of wisdom came down from on high I thought to do the next best thing and started to rig a dry/nymph dropper but NO! Instead I tied on a weird, sparkling (Ice Dub) bright green Trude which the trout gobbled like kids eat candy! Imagine! As you might imagine I had only 2 such Trudes so I warned my guy to tread carefully less...well you know.

But of course just then I ran into Monty (other guide) and he of course was also pondering what next so...Oh well at least my guy was able to hang on to our little "secret", put 8 or 10 pretty trouts in the net he did until...Until a great big ol' brown snatched it and...While that did not end the fun completely, unable to uncover anything even close to try the catch rate did fall off big time...

To conclude: Too exhausted to tie even one sparkly Trude that evening the next day when the trout started to ignore our Elk Hairs once again I frantically searched thru my boxes...Behold a single lime green Humpy... And surprise, surprise the trout relished it almost as much...But of course I had just one...And as Humpies do soon the trout all but destroyed it...No more greenies we basically spent the last hour or so enjoying the boat ride...

PS...Next day armed with several sparkly green Trudes the trout of course thought otherwise and that really was that...Just one more example why we call it fishing, eh?

Snow Gods Smile At Last Leave This Ol' Boy Grinnin'

When at last the snow gods conspired to blow the storm away, Bert and Jane were able to finally get out of Utah and make their way to Montana.

As planned early next morning found Bert and me huddled in a hastily erected photo blind at the edge of a sage grouse breeding ground, aka dancing ground or lek.
Because of the seemingly endless unsettled weather pattern than had been plaguing southwest Montana since mid March I had grave doubts the weather gods would cooperate this morning. But my fears proved unfounded as the day dawned cold and clear, perfect actually for what we had in mind.

At least a dozen roosters were engaged in their spectacular dance even as I set the blind up. Again Lady Luck was on our side as sometimes setting the blind at dawn spooks the birds which then usually return but it takes awhile...Not this time however as the dancing cocks simply moved off a short ways and we were soon able to start shooting. As the sun came up the strong backlight proved a slight problem but only for a few minutes. As there were enough targets to aim our long telephoto lenses slightly left or right of the rising sun and keep shooting.

I suppose it might have been better somehow but I really can't think just how. Anyway thanks to our large capacity digital cards we both shot several hundred frames before the dance crowd started to leave around 9 a.m. And while I can't speak for Bert, trust me this ol' boy was sure grinnin'...

I'm sure upon reaching home Bert will post some of his shots on his blog as soon as he gets time. Check out the Links to the left...that would be Gildart Photo and click on Weblog.