Fly Fishing: Fishing Report and...

I continue to hear mixed reports on Clark Canyon. Ranging from okay to not so hot and pretty much everything in between. My take has been and falls heavily on the not so hot side; slow fishing though is one thing, like could very well be just me but where the cruisers has me baffled. In several afternoon sessions I have yet to see more than a handful up on the banks as is normally the case this time of year...go figure, I'm sure at a loss.

On another track the Big Hole continues to fish well, most days especially for you streamer addicts. A neighbor reported the other day Maiden Rock to Melrose three of them boated at least 15 and probably more. Al has apparently heard a similar tune in the shop. Alas, except for the one day Al and me nearly got blown off the river I have been buried in work and unable to get even...oh well.

Same neighbor reported really good fishing recently Tash to Trash (Beav). Didn't say how many or what they were throwing but did say some of the fish were pretty hefty; showed me a brown on his phone as proof...

Still not hearing much on the Ruby or Madison and not a single mention of blue wings showing up anywhere except the Lower Madison...wind a course could be the culprit.

On yet another track this will probably be my last post this month. We're headin to Oregon tomorrow sometime and will likely be out of touch until at least next Wednesday and since we're going there to work don't look for much in the way of posting. We plan to attend the big fly tying expo in Idaho
Falls on Friday so if I get a chance will fill you in on that extravaganza. Also in Bend Or hope to visit the fly fishing golf course and perhaps even wet a line as free time allows. Promise to fill you in first chance...Anyway that's about it for now...over and out...

Fly Fishing: Brief, violent storm...

...hit soon after Annie and I waded into position. Howling wind, rain and fingernail-sized hail pounded down such poor Annie put tail between legs, lowered nose to the river and sulked...I of course held onto my hat and leaned into the wind, desperate to remain upright and, perish the thought, not find self floating down river.  Then, almost quicker than the storm hit, one last really hard blast and it was over but...

...apparently so was the fishing. The midge hatch vanished, like no bugs, nada...And while I cycled through throwing buggers, drifting soft hackles and nymphs...except for a handful half-hearted tugs...

...landed just one rather skinny, though as advertised, pretty brown. As you can see the hot fly of the day, and I use the term loosely, was that old standby #18 BH PT...No surprise there, eh?

To say the river went dead perhaps could stand a bit of clarification...In the two hours plus while we fished Gale tramped around taking pictures, looking for birds and other critters: Sum total, a single Clark's nutcracker and two black-billed magpies, like this is end of March, migration is in full swing...two hours, three birds, Big Hole river, early spring...I rest my case.

Fly Fishing: Fly Friday

Fishing the Big Hole on a beautiful late summer evening...

 

...with trout slurping all up and down this wide flat pool it should have been easy. But in the hour or so before sunset and the inevitable evening chill down the upper Big Hole experiences at this season shut down the rise between us we managed only a few takes; alas even fewer hookups.

With the light almost gone a huge brown dropped down to the tail.  In water barely covering its dorsal, waking beaver like, began terrorizing the smaller trout intent on sucking down the last of the spent mayflies.

Switching quickly to a bugger, each time he came by in range I took aim and pitched in front...twice he actually hit the fly...no, not a take just a collision...like crashed into...Before it ended I probably had 20 chances...you would a thought he might a snagged hisownself and...OK really did want to get my grubby paws on the bastard, mind you just to see how big...Honest injun...Yes I do know snagging trout is illegal, not at all fair, definitely unethical and probably immoral but c'mon now....Can you really blame me? 

The "Last Best River In the Last Best Place" Is Today Even Better...

thanks to Montana's Future Fisheries program. Since 2006 more than 32 miles of the Big Hole River and tributary streams—including Bryant, Swamp, LaMarche, Rock, Big Lake, South Fork Big Swamp, Fishtrap, Berry and Deep creeks—have been or will be restored or protected by the projects.

Projects have included riparian fencing to protect stream banks, stream-channel restoration, and the restoration of riparian areas by planting native grasses and shrubs. In addition, restoration workers installed fish ladders to allow fish passage and constructed additional pools in the river to improve grayling habitat, fashioned hardened cattle crossings, laid pipelines, installed water-measuring devices, and built solar paneled stock-water wells and stock-watering areas. The new stock-watering areas are designed to encourage grazing away from the stream to protect stream-side vegetation and to improve late-summer flows critical for fish survival.

Most of the work is taking place on lands owned by ranchers participating in the nation's largest federally approved Conservation Candidate Agreement with Assurances program. Approved by FWP and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Services in 2006, the Big Hole River CCAA includes 32 local landowners with 152,139 acres of private land and 6,030 acres of state land enrolled.

For the rest of the story, work that is ongoing all across the state go to http://fwp.mt.gov/habitat/futureFisheries/

Big Hole Cast 'N Blast....

was, well, a blast. First cast in No Name Creek a real lunker brookie ate the Orange Stimulator I had tied on in deference to Gale--like the Orange beauty has been a favorite, actually her go-to fly for decades--who was herself tied up at the moment tending to Kate who was at the moment engaged in ferreting out yet another interesting scent...Anyway no boots, no camera handy, standing on a high bank, no way to get down to land the beast (in one piece anyhow) I did the next best thing and tried to lead it downstream--no dice, no witnesses except for Annie of course so there you have it. How big? Well pretty big especially considering the crick's rather tight living quarters but in actuality...like the man often points out this one we will just never know. I know, I know the beeg ones always somehow get away...what can I say.

Here are a few keepers of another sort...hope you enjoy 'em even half as much as we enjoyed living 'em...

24 chilly degrees this mornin'...

Nothin' I know gets the blood runnin' quicker than crawlin' into frozen wading socks and boots...

Not a bad way to end a long day of adventurin, eh?

Mule Ranch/Pintlar  Range is perhaps our favorite Montana vista...

Big wind set the Stewart Mountain Fire (a few days ago officially declared DIW) to smokin' big time...so much for 100% contained, eh?

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?

Fly Fishing: Record Runoff Over At Last

Bert Gildart Photo (click to enlarge)

At least it would seem that way as the Big Hole has dropped about 2000 cfs in the past 5 days and barring unforeseen downpours should continue to do so, although maybe not quite so dramatically. Still the flow is roughly 3 times the historic average for this late in July. While for me the lower flows are indeed welcome, i.e. the big water is just too damn hard on this ol' boy, I can't say it has done much for the fishing as recently more days than not have been on the slow side, afternoons especially. That said, I would say overall there have been more big fish in the net so far this season than any I can recall, especially common on the upper river have been browns over 18 inches and fat brookies in the 14-15 inch range. Curiously with all that water it would seem the "moskeeters" would be really thick but except for brief periods that has not been the case. Not so, however, the deer flies...yesterday my boat was litterally covered (like zillons enough to nearly obliterate the green paint)...somewhat mystifying Doug's gray boat hardly had a bug...deer flies find green attractive? Who knows...Anyway most experts predict above average flows should continue maybe even into the fall...that so expect the fishing to ramp back up as well.

Fly Fishing: Rookies Get the Slam...

...well sort of. Yesterday, thanks to a rather complex plan I had the pleasure of guiding 3 Norwegian rookies...none of which had ever held a fly rod before...to a Big Hole Slam...sort of...Catching brook, brown, rainbow trout, grayling, whitefish and the "sort of" part, at cuttbow which I would have liked to call a pure strain cutt but in all honesty could not...though I doubt the Norwegians could have cared less, did not really understand the long odds of 3 rookies accomplishing even a "sort of Big Hole Slam" on their first ever venture into fly fishing and all on dries no less...OK not really a big deal but damn nifty in my book...

Arctic grayling, this one taken on a soft hackle another day by the way...

I am pretty sure all three enjoyed the experience, were elated at their success, remain somewhat mystified at some of the many nuances involved in becoming a complete fly fisher, not the least of which coping with a strong afternoon breeze which we all know makes anything like an accurate cast, proper drift, etc. damn near impossible...but to their credit the trio hung in there did the best they could and even hooked a few more wind be damned...

Fly Fishing: Salmon Fly Madness....

...Big Hole style.                                    (click photos to enlarge)

Nothing I know of so lights a fire under even the most casual of Big Hole River Rats as news of the long awaited arrival of the insectus gigantus stonefly better known as the Salmon Fly...

Sometime in June the big three-year old nymphs begin crawling ashore and up into the greenery where they shuck their nymphal skins and emerge....

...as adults. After drying their wings the big bugs fly off into the bushes and trees. Mating occurs a day or so later and when conditions are just right the fertile females buzz out over the water crash land on the river, lay their eggs and perish.

...meanwhile hopeful fly chuckers chuck all sorts of god-awful big creations hoping of course to land...

...a gawdawful big brown trout...otherwise known as giganticus browntrouticus...or if you prefer...A By God Goddamn PIG!!!

So there you have it, time is now, place is of course the Big Hole. Start your hunt down below Glen and work up river a few miles each day. Cast your favorite offering, preferably in tight to the bank, drag free or with just the slightest twitch. If at first you don't succeed try and try again...And when you do finally hit paydirt I can hear it all now, "Like shucks weren't nothin to it"...Right? Right...over and out...Chuck

Fly Fishing: R&D Day 2...Upper Big Hole

Al Lefor, Great Divide Outfitters, pondering what to do with all that water...or just enjoying the view...or contemplating just how high the river might rise should all that snow in the mountains suddenly turn to...well, you know what....(click on the photos to enlarge)

We put in at Squaw Creek Bridge and floated to East Bank under mostly cloudy skies with a cool northwest breeze...right out the gate sort of I had three hits on a streamer, one I'm pretty sure was a nice brookie...Anyway a few PMDs and BWOs started coming off, a sparse hatch but...low and behold we found a few fish...most, if not all, grayling...rising. I rigged up with what both Al and I agreed was a suitable imitation and several dozen casts into it landed a fat grayling. Obviously what seemed to us "suitable" didn't exactly suit the risers...oh well.

Both of us pretty much decided beforehand it would be streamers or dries or more to the point dry/dropper; in other words no damn "bobbers" come hell, high water, even at the risk of eating skunk...

And to be fair we both did stick to our guns...well sort of anyway....

I did notice Al starting to slip a bit toward the end and in the interest of honest photojournalism felt obligated to snap this, ah shall we say "telling" photo...

Was it worth it, I mean risking an old man's stellar reputation? You be the judge...

Fly Fishing: Big Hole Flood Tour

Once an upper Big Hole hay meadow yesterday morphed into Jackson Lake...

A few miles down river between Jackson and Wisdom swollen river has left hundreds of barn swallows homeless and no doubt drowned hundreds of nestlings beneath the bridge....

The flow here (yesterday p.m.) is plus 9400 cfs; far river right is the only way to get under Browne's Bridge at this level...good luck trying to get back across to the takeout... This morning the flow at Glen topped 10,000 cfs and if you are fool enough to be out there better take a close look here before launching upstream...

On another related track I heard yesterday from several reliable sources that Clark Canyon Creek is once again trashing the river below High Bridge. In other words combined with the muddy water coming in at Grasshopper the Beav is once more effectively kaput except for the short stretch below the dam. Have fun...

Fly Fishing: Guide Wars Part 1

Cased caddis were difficult to find in the Beaverhead River below High Bridge...

...following the countless tons silt deposited in the river from Clark Canyon Creek three springs ago. But thanks to a the powers that control the outflow from Clark Canyon Dam for upping the winter discharge and to Mother Nature's remarkable healing powers cased caddis as well as the rest of the indigenous aquatic insects appear to well on the way, if not all the way, recovered. At least that is my take after rolling rocks Sunday in between tending to John and Cleery who were enjoying a fine day of fishing. No hatch to speak of nymphs turned the trick: Ray Charles, Micro May, Serendipity, BH PT and well, just about anything in size 16 and 18 did the trick. As usual the big ones mostly got away and there were of course those did not quite make it to the net but as the man once said, "the catching is but a small part of it"...Right.

Bob had the hot hand yesterday, putting a feisty rainbow in the net at the launch while I got the boat ready...

Cleery I think would agree struggled mightily early yesterday and on the Big Hole Saturday but...

...to his credit persevered and around lunch time caught his first trout...

Which buddy, Todd, masterfully netted. Shown here lending a helping hand to his hard working guide, Wes. And from then on there was no stopping him as he hooked up several more between here and the takeout.


Saturday we fished the Big Hole. Conditions pointed to a great day but as we all know conditions are not always what they appear. While we did catch a few the hook ups were indeed few and far between. There were caddis around but the trout seemed uninterested. So we stuck to nymphs: SJW, Prince, BH PT, Caddis emerger, Pat's Rubber Leg. We saw little wildlife but a  baby moose, apparently all alone for mama moose was nowhere to be seen, wandering the banks bawling pathetically was sort of heartwrenching...hopefully both were soon reunited...

Annual Big Hole Tour Provides Few Surprises

Saddle Mountain (right foreground)/West Pintlar Peak behind show off typical Easter weekend snow bonnets... 

Yesterday we decided it was high time to do our annual Big Hole tour. Expecting lots of snow in the high country topping the Big Hole Divide, gazing across the drifted-in valley to the winter-white peaks of Beaverheads beyond erased any doubts. While the sagebrush foothills of the Pioneers to the east are as usual mostly bare looking west is a winter wonderland. Why this drastic change, actually just about follows the road all the way to Jackson remains a mystery to us.

We spotted dozens antelope and a small band of elk on the Grasshopper side of the Divide below the snowline. Just over the pass countless mule deer, some looking really poor, grazed the open sagebrush. Above Jackson to Wisdom the river is open and the snow in the valley is really spotty. Ground squirrels were everywhere as were the raptors hunting them--northern harriers, red-tails, rough-leggeds, ferruginous swainson's, golden and bald eagles to name several. Numerous sandhill cranes, several ospreys and a large elk herd just outside Wisdom highlighted that portion of the tour. From Jackson all the way to Glen waterfowl loafed in just about every puddle; especially numerous in the river above Squaw Creek bridge off the North Fork road...plenty muddy by the way around the edges, be sure to keep 'er on the straight and narrow. Mallard, wigeon, blue and green wing teal, white pelican, common and hooded merganser, pintail and of course scads of geese to name just a few off the top the ol' bald noggin'.

We stopped for lunch at Fetty's, now the Big Hole Crossing. The change of course came about when the original BHC across the street burned last summer. Extensively damaged, apparently beyond rebuilding, the owners decided not to rebuild. Instead bought out Fetty's. Lunch by the way was excellent and quite filling. Since the BHC owned a considerable reputation for serving up good and plentiful eats on the other side the street we were not surprised.

Thought I might make a few casts at Fish Trap but a marauding skunk nixed that idea...the good news is Annie baby failed to see it...No snow in the valley below Squaw Creek and once you get down around Wise River even the foothills are bare. The river is clear and open all the way. While there still might be some ice on the shadiest banks we did not see any. No fisher folk to speak of until Stanchfields but quite a few rigs from there down to the Glen Bar...the Salmon Fly access was just about standing room only largely due to a horde of ATV rigs.

Montana Fly Fishing: How High Will the Big Hole Rise?

Looking east through the Notch to the Tobacco Roots (click to enlarge)

Is always a hot topic and a big question this time of year. It got even hotter a few days ago when the Big Hole suddenly spiked up several hundred cfs almost overnight. Not at all unusual this time of year but since just about everybody I've talked to seems to agree we are still very much in the grips of either a prolonged winter or a real chilly spring...Since most days either start out damn chilly (12 on the porch yesterday) or end up that way no matter what the mid-day highs are I'd call it a toss up...

With that in mind we have been trying our best to just ignore the endless chill and do just that...Been fishing twice on the Big Hole, both admittedly somewhat aborted ventures, with similar though not unexpected rather grim results. Ditto the lake sort of...Yesterday being three strikes and out that's all I have to say.

How high the Big Hole will rise is of course more than I (or anyone else for that matter) know. I checked the Jeff snow pack info this morning and the snow water is 123% of normal; the snow pack a bit less. So assuming we get the usual dumpings over the next 10 weeks or so my bet is pretty damn high. If not well, who the hell knows given what's out there could come off pretty damn quickly or not depending of course on that other impossible to predict long range (with any accuracy) variable e.g. how hot?

So there you have it, a cop out I know, sorry...over and out...

Big Hole skwala hatch is in full swing; but the bad news is the early runoff is in full swing also.

Visibilty at Glen yesterday afternoon was still in the ballpark, barely, but this morning the river is up to 1700+ and still rising. SO...who knows. On another mission we stopped to check out the bugs and walking just a short piece of the bank below the FAS ramp found several. Gale shot this adult while I did my best to keep it on the stone.

Bowing to temptation I rigged up and fished a wooly worm from the bridge downstream 100 yards or so with nary a bump. Duty calling, on that note, derigged and we continued on our way. Proving? I guess actually nothing more than wrong fly, feeble attempt, bad timing (rising river and all), bad fishing...all the above? As I say who knows?

We found this handsome honey-moon couple, a drake and hen hooded merganser,  swimming in a slough of the river, as yet not much affected by the runoff...my guess is won't be long until it too turns brown and ugly.

Fly Fishing: Bugs n' Brookies

 

October 21, 2006 while fishing a lake in Manitoba this lucky angler landed what turned out to be the largest brookie ever...29 inches long, 21 inches girth, estimated weight between 15-17 pounds. Because the beast was later released it goes into the record books as World Record Catch and Release and since it was taken while trolling a Rapala on unofficially tested line it stands as the All-tackle record. Anyway you look at it tis one helluva brookie, eh? Photo courtesy Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Fame

No, that's not me drooling the record brookie. But now that I think on it perhaps the date 10/21, my birthday, really is an omen that someday soon...Nah!

More our speed, no doubt having much ado with our increasing devotion to pitching dries.

Truth is, in a career now spanning 6 decades and counting, despite having chucked first baits, then hardware and, for many years now, flies, to more brookie holes than the law should allow, having hooked literally thousands in the process, I can boast just two might...I repeat might...have gone an honest 18-inches. OK, honest is something of a stretch, since neither was actually taped. But 18-inches or whatever, naturally I recall both historic moments vividly (sort of) even though much water has flowed beneath the proverbial bridge since.

Small streams are just plain fun...and challenging...true story.

A Parmachene Belle, a classic wet fly supposedly first tied to fool the giant brookies once swarmed Maine's Rangeley Lakes region, accounted for the first. The catch could have been classic in every sense but...For starters it wasn't even caught in Maine but at the mouth of small tributary of Ontario's Lady Evelyn River. But what really makes the catch pale in the classic sense...I snagged it.

Beaver dams and fat brook trout go together like apple...well, you know

Sad I know but true. Trolling a big slow pool in the main river past the creek mouth, littered with beaver cuttings, Dick Byrem, in the bow (me in the stern) hung up. Nearing the end of a long trip and dangerously close to running out of flies, breaking off was not an option. Lines trailing, we bent to the paddles, turned the canoe up river, paddled like hell to where Dick reached down and pulled the flies free. As the canoe once again turned down river my line came tight and what turned out to be the trip's biggest brookie splashed the surface. Obviously other than the fly, classic, even bragging rights, hardly apply.

A few years later, again trolling (no idea what) behind a canoe, although this time in a Quebec lake (sorry the name too is long gone), I landed another bigger than we (Billy Eves and me) were accustomed.

Ingenuity helps...

As always no tape so, nothing left, Billy brought forth a dollar bill. For the uninitiated, a U.S. dollar bill measures a hair over 6-inches. Nose to tail he declared "3 bills" so...

I can't say how widespread this dollar bill trick but, in our case, it played a significant role. Early on, actually for many seasons, brookies made up at least 90% of my catch...truth be known really small brookies. Catch and release having not yet found its way into the Pennsylvania hollers, naturally we kept any trout of legal size; the idea of course bragging rights went with catching the daily limit, which I think back then was 8 per. Anyway the minimum legal size being 6-inches, the OM issued a dollar bill at the start of each adventure...As yes, where dollar bills were concerned C&R was well ingrained and indeed not an option as in...boy, make damn sure I get it back, ya hear.

Gale style, up close and personal, obviously pays off...

As any true blue trout nut knows the brook trout is not a true trout but rather a char. It is native in the northeast, down the Appalachians to Georgia, in the upper Midwest and in eastern Canada. But these days brookies swim just about everywhere trout swim; some say they have been transplanted to more places than any other fish species. Here in Montana, trout nirvana to many, " brook trout as natives" is a common refrain. Sorry, not so...

In the literature of fly fishing for brook trout it is de rigueur for the reporter to wax poetically on the beauty and allure of the fish itself.  For example, one breathless scribe painted them, "the aphrodite of the hemlocks." Sounds good, but...Mr.Webster notes, "Aphrodite" as the Greek "goddess" of "love" and "beauty."

Sorry my man, this is one case where in the category "good looks" the male, especially when bedecked in his spawning finery, wins hands down...no contest.

Why brookies, when there are far larger trout out there to be had especially considering in many of our best waters 18-inch browns and rainbows, while probably not dime a dozen easy, catching one certainly won't turn many heads. Well, one thing, we like a little solitude with our fishing, these days a really rare item. But the real reasons: brook trout and good country is a given; most rank high among the last best left on the planet.

Beauty (of the beast) and scenic aside, a typical day fishing the backcountry (wherever) bird and water song fills the clean, sweet-scented air, wildflowers and wildlife at times so abundant it takes real tunnel-vision to maintain focus on the task at hand. Realization on my part there simply was no hope, I no longer consider a missed take as call for despair.

In a typical Montana season Gale and me catch brookies by the dozens (hundreds probably but who's counting). After all we fish often; fish mostly brook trout strongholds; and brookies being notoriously easy pickings...how could we not?

These days the Parachute Adams is often the only fly we bother to tie on...Lazy? Yep. Effective? Usually so...

True most fall into the sub 12-inch category with a handful 13-15-inches and the occasional, maybe one every couple years, 16-17-inches. Still evidence abounds of far larger out there. The state record is slightly over 9 pounds (Lower Two Medicine Lake, 1940). While it seems unlikely the record will be broken anytime soon ( maybe not ever) breaking my personal record seems a definite maybe...more a matter of time than anything. Close to home (Dillon) the upper Big Hole and Georgetown Lake harbor such hefty individuals as do many others...I know of a couple 3-pounders mounted on local living room walls said to have been hauled from Big Hole tributaries. One day last spring my friend, Steve, buggered several 15-17- inches from a single run. So who knows, maybe if I just keep chuckin', eh?

Pondering Winter and...

...this morning Al officially declared the Big Hole River trout fishing DIW. Hard to argue given it snowed all day Saturday and since Friday the high temperature in this neck of woods has yet to reach double digits even though both Saturday and Sunday the weather gurus promised highs in the low 20s. Sorry not on my porch anyway. Three mornings in a row now bottomed out below zero, -10 Saturday, -8 Sunday and -4 this morning.  OK, for southwest Montana such readings are no big deal and far from what Old Man Winter is capable of dishing out but...Single digit highs and that the wind is almost never still this time of year do make it damn chilly and while I don't know if the Big Hole is yet starting to ice over you can bet the farm should the forecasted lows for the next few days--negative 20 something in town Wednesday who the hell wants to know what up Wisdom way--the ice gods will damn sure be wearing a big grin anways.

Signs of winter have been around for awhile now, most days barely reaching the freezing mark, snow piling up almost daily in the mountains, rumors of big elk herds migrating down from the high country (near Lima several road closings in the past few days to protect one big herd from yet another potential slaughter  (hooray, tis about time, eh?) otherwise. Ducks and geese abandoning now frozen over potholes and showing up in great numbers wherrever open water exists by the thousands. Up near Stevensville at the Lee Metcalf NWR thousands of geese showed up the other day to say nothing of the many thousands ducks accompanying the big migration and on and on...

For my dogs sake and OK for our sanity I hope the Ol' Boy reconsiders at least long enough for us to make a few more swings before heading south. As come mid-December we plan to head to southwest Idaho, then on to Nevada, Death Valley and eventually to chase quail about the deserts of Arizona. And yes, winter-like or not, we can still, no doubt will still hunt but...Well you know, wimpy geezers and all, what can I say.

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.