New Fly: The Foxybead Sculpin

For me personally, my best flies spawn from ideas developed on the water, in the act of pursuing my intended quarry. Without time on the water, I would have bored of fly tying years ago. But there's few things that I get excited for more than rushing home after a day of fishing to bring new ideas to fruition. Such was the case for this little creation. It incorporates plastic beads for the abdomen and a cool Enrico Puglisi material called a "foxy brush" for the head. 

I developed the pattern after a recent trip to a couple of Montana spring creeks, and wanted to create a small to mid-size sculpin pattern that could get down quick and had plenty of natural movement. I've been pretty pleased after testing it out recently around Bozeman.

This pattern is available for sale, at $6 per fly, and for inquiries on ordering, email me at: westonthier@gmail.com.

Seasons Change

Hard to slow down here in Big Sky country. Winter moved along fast, and now spring's approaching hastily. Not that I'm complaining...lots of fishing trips, flies tied, and even a bluegrass party at the house this winter. My brother Trav and I have been playing some music of our own, and scheming trips into the backcountry for this summer. Here's some iPhone pics of the Montana winter. 

Beartrap.

Trav scaling a wall in Beartrap Canyon, barefoot.

Passenger seat tying. 

The Montana Mongrel's been catching lots of browns lately.

I also took my first trip to the West Coast this winter, visiting my good friend Lauren, who is pictured here taking a glug from the sacred flask.

Bleu and I made the trip in mid February, and we were both stunned by the incredible greenery Oregon had to offer in the middle of winter. 

Even caught a few fish on the Crooked River, near Bend. 

The Geo Metro was once again in beast mode this trip, braving a wicked snowstorm on top of Lookout Pass in Idaho, and then completing the 2,000 or so round-trip journey. Thankfully for Bleu and I, its muffler fell off the day AFTER we returned home. 

January on the MO

A few photos from last weekends mission to the Missouri with my friends Nort and Ryan. The air temp never got above the mid 20s, and we were the only fly fisherman on the river. Around 2 p.m., after about an hour of braving stiff winds ripping off Holter Lake, we took a coffee/beer break in Ryan's truck. That turned out to be a solid move, as we fished til' dark, landing plenty of big rainbows on little pink patterns. Anything pink, they were on it. My goal of fishing clear through my first Montana winter has worked out much better than I could have fathomed.. If I had time to get excited about the amazing skiing others have been enjoying lately, I probably would. But for now, fuck skiing!

Not this buck's first rodeo.

Romanticizing about next weekend's trip to the Bighorn.

A Day On The Big River

For the most part I'd like to stand by my words in my last post, but I may have to eat some of them, because I did fish the Big Hole while I was in the area and spent a considerable portion of an afternoon catching and gawking at outsized brown trout.

This big boy was over 20 and I caught a few more from the same hole that were within an inch or two. They fell for small nymphs, like pheasant tails and little princes. And yes, was it a damn good time.