Wise River: The Rest of the Story...

As the sign suggests first came the fur trappers, then the miners and early settlers. Pioneers such as George Pettengill, the infamous "Wild Man" of Wise River. Colorful and mysterious Pettengill roamed the area for about 40 years. Said to be harmless, a hermit who shunned civilization for apparent personal reasons still he struck fear in the relative few he allowed to get close enough to get a look. No doubt many of his habits are more fiction than fact he reputedly ate his meat raw, loved the fruits of the forest, lived in a brush wikieup in summer, denned in a cave over winter and alleged to have staked a mine over the mountains near Twin Bridges. Once promised "all the raw meat and fruits you can eat" he was put on display in the window of a Butte drug store. But too shy to face the throngs of gawkers he soon fled back home to Wise River. Later, so the story goes, an enterprising visitor tried to lure him to Chicago to be put on display in "a cage eating raw meat" but supposedly he declined the offer. Tall, lean, barefoot, dressed in rags, long red dreadlocks down to his ass one thing hard to argue ol' George left a lasting impression--a local legend for sure. (click photos to enlarge)

Just downstream from here, Joe Maurice, another early pioneer, left a considerable mark on the local history.  Maurice was a Belgian immigrant who moved his wife and two young sons into the valley at the confluence of Gold Creek, about the same time Pettengill arrived. From the get-go things did not go well. A horse kicked out one eye; then his wife grew gravely ill and Joe rode 60 miles to fetch a doctor; she was dead before they got there. Not long after the two boys died of diptheria. Undaunted Maurice persevered, kept the ranch going into the 1960s until friends moved him to a rest home where he died in 1963 at age 97.

At the headwaters beginning around 1919 Montana's largest and final silver mine began operation, and the town of Coolidge grew up around it. An ambitious and expensive narrow gauge railroad, the last such built in the U.S. carried the ore 40-miles to Divide. Barely up to speed the national economy took a downturn and silver prices plummeted. In 1923, the mine operation was in receivership. W.R. Allen lost his personal fortune and control of the property. In 1927 a Montana Power Company dam (Pettengill Dam) failed and water washed out twelve miles and several bridges of the mine's railroad. Five years later the mine and the town were essentially history.

Obviously, there is much more to Wise River than its fly fishing. Best thing is should you find the fish in an uncooperative mood well hell, poke around a little, as I say, there really is no end of things to discover...

...such as this...common ol' dandelion...right? No not quite, for this I discovered just yesterday is none other than a "false dandelion." Imagine!

And...and if you are real lucky and observant as hell, you might even get to gaze on this beauty...the western tanager. Whose arrival in June all true blue fly chuckers know is the harbinger of the long awaited, much bally-hooed hatch of all hatches...the SALMON FLY...Hooray. Sorry, I sometimes just can't help it...

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...