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.

Notes From A Basement in Bozeman

Winter here in Montana has allowed for a lot more fishing opportunities than I would have previously imagined (it's forecasted to be 40s all this week), so my off-days from the coffee and fly shops have thankfully been spent on the water testing out new patterns. This fly is a take on a streamer that I have been using all year long in different colors with incredible success. The most crucial aspect to this fly is actually maybe the least noticeable at first glance.

There are two Gamakatsu B10S hooks in tandem on this guy, but instead of articulating them with streamer wire and beads, which also works well, I threaded 20 lb. backing along and through a magnum zonker strip and secured it with a few turns of thread and a dab of glue once on the rear  hook (size 6) and once on the front (size 2). This technique of threading backing through the zonker allows for a "fluttering" action that works well swung, stripped and dead drifted in the current. The threading technique on the zonker was not altogether an original creation. I was shown the idea by fellow Troutfitters employee Johnny Mac in the shop, who in turn took the technique from a couple streamers we sell there.

I have not fished the chartreuse yet, but have smashed fish on a similar tie in white, purple, and silver. If it fishes alright, I may start calling this specific sculpinish variation "Mr. Fo," due to the unruly Senyo's left long on the top part of the head. We will see. Special thanks to Pete Atkins for taking the photos while visiting on a ski trip.

I have learned a lot since moving to Bozeman. Immersing myself in this city, meeting new friends, and exploring the state of Montana has resulted in many valuable lessons learned and a whole slew of new goals and aspirations. One of those "dream-come-true" moments came when I was offered a position at a fly shop in town called Montana Troutfitters. I had never been as excited to accept a part-time position in my life, and I don't think any job has facilitated my career more than my first few months working there. I've met and work with a lot of real cool people in an industry that I adore, and when it's slow I stare at our massive fly tying wall, dream up a fly, and rush home from work with new materials in hand to whip up my little brainchild. On the rare occasion that it turns out exactly as I intended, I get pretty excited. All others are destined for the "give-away" pile. 

Though I plan to fish this winter as much as my schedule and the Montana weather allows, I am especially excited for some long fly tying sessions fueled by bluegrass and caffeine. So in light of fly tying season, I'll be posting photos of some of the efforts of my basement fly tying lab as they unveil themselves. Any non-fly fishing people might find these posts to be nerdy and strange, so I apologize in advance for that. But, for those interested souls, I appreciate any and all questions or comments that you may have about the flies.

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. 

Montana

I have dreamt of exploring the mountain West since I was young, have visited it on several brief trips, and it is a wonder that I didn't end up here sooner, but here I am at last...living under the big sky of Bozeman, MT. While there are ambitions and fulfillments that I'm sure I won't have the time or resources to make happen this summer, there's also a lot of amazing sights and smells sitting (almost) at my literal doorstep.

A week or so ago, I had two days off of work at The Daily Coffee Bar, my newest source of employment, and stayed up late one night looking over maps and guidebooks in search of a place relatively close to my house where I could try out my new North Face backpack (circa. 1983) and catch trout in an alpine setting.
I chose the Tobacco Root Mountains west of Bozeman for my little jaunt, and by afternoon the next day I was sitting underneath a cirque of 10,500 foot peaks drinking tea and pondering the brief but grueling hike up to where I was sitting, on the shore of Bell Lake. It was marvelous and peaceful and, though the fishing looked bleak (due to a high silt concentration in the lake from melting snow), I was riding a happy high of thin alpine air.

I pried the lake that night and the next morning with leeches and wooly buggers without a take, though there were a few rises, so I resolved to walk around the lake to try and find clearer water. After ambling over a large rock outcropping I came upon a clear, sparkling, inlet stream which provided maybe a 15 x 30 foot patch of crystalline water in the lake itself. Before Bleu could discover and traipse through the hole, I thrust a cast below and immediately had a foot-long cutthroat fluttering at the end of my tippet. I hoisted it over the small inlet waterfall. Bleu noticed this and was all about trying to catch it in the air, for which I chastised him, and for the next forty five minutes or so he behaved pretty well and even watched patiently as I caught ten or so more pretty cutthroats from in and around the clear water which I had found. I released them all. The longest was around 14" and most of the fish were sleek and skinny and dressed in their proudest spawning colors. I breathed deeply and smiled. Satisfied with my success, I left after an hour and made a hearty meal of quinoa, beans, and other earthly morsels.

So last week it was the Tobacco Roots, this week it's the Pioneer Range in search of grayling, and I'm pretty damn happy with the theme. For now, I'll leave the famous rivers (like the one I'm staying next to right now, the Big Hole) for Jim from Illinois to explore with his pal who just flew in from Dallas. 

Photos: Arkansas cont./Winter fishing

A half of a roll of film remained in my camera after our spring Ozark trip, and the following photos are the result. Below the Arkansas photos are some images of winter/spring fishing this year with some of my Eau Claire pals. 

The view from Hare Mountain. 

Last breakfast.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,
To mingle with the Universe, and feel
What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal.

-Lord Byron

Happy hiking. 

 "selfie"

April on a Coon Valley, WI stream.

Bleuger

March midge hatch.

 The rest of these photos are from January and February in southeast Minnesota. Their trout season opened January 1st, and I was lucky enough to take advantage of it numerous times. It was a nice way to fill in the gap between fall steelheading and the Wisconsin early season, which opened the first Saturday in March.

Smokin' Joe

Sean with his first of the year. 

The Whitewater River