Missoula on the fly

It’s been a busy month, and nearly 3 weeks since my last outing on the river, so thankfully it was a good one. Spring runoff was in full swing, so I went looking for clear water above Nez Perce Creek on the West Fork of the Bitterroot. The tail water delivered, as I was greeted with clean, green tinted water and willing fish when I got there. I was able to catch some nice sized fish on dry flies for the better part of the afternoon, and didn’t run into another fisherman the entire day.

During the drive up, my mind had been preoccupied with some of the difficulties in my life, difficulties which seemed to be constantly looming on the horizon, just like the dark clouds that filled the sky that day. The weather looked to be gloomy, and I suppose the threat of heavy rain was the reason that very few people had ventured out this day. Around this time though, I noticed a ray of sunshine coming through the dark clouds in the distance. It was shining onto a small portion of a field, and directly in the sun-drenched spot was a young horse rolling around, seemingly having the time of its life enjoying the warmth of the sunshine. Even though dark clouds occupied every other inch of the sky, this little spot was warm and sunny. It occurred to me how easily we let ourselves get distracted by dark clouds on the horizon of our life, when there are rays of sunshine all around us, even in the gloomiest of weather. No matter how cloudy, we just need to find that one random ray of sunshine in the middle of the darkness and go there and enjoy it until the weather clears up I think.

The fishing was simple today. An Adams with a soft presentation seemed to do the trick all day. This 18” cut throat was the largest of the afternoon. 

I guess I was the only person crazy enough to try hoofing it today, as I didn’t see a single other wade fisherman, but encountered numerous fishermen on boats and rafts. The water is running high, and the entire ground has become a sea of fast flowing braids, making it difficult to move anywhere without being swept away. Eventually, and painstakingly, I made it to the stretch of river that I had wanted to fish, but it had completely changed. Searching the newly formed channels, I noticed a fallen ponderosa that was normally on land, but now looked like an ideal spot for fish to hide in the middle of fast flowing water. However, the submerged branches and sticks of fallen trees are also notorious for exacting a heavy river tax in the form of lost flies and frustrating tangles, like a siren call to the fly fisherman. You know are going to lose your fly, but you try every time anyways. I carefully drifted my fly past the root system and along the edge of the log, trying to avoid submerged branches as best I could, but of course, I quickly snagged a branch and ended up losing my fly and half of my leader. Frustrated, I started over and began reconstructing my entire rig to try again. By now the day was half over and a storm was blowing in, but it didn’t matter because that’s when I hooked into a fish with some serious weight to it. I decided it must be a large, and spirited whitefish, because it was heavy and kept diving straight to the bottom. As the fight continued, I saw a flash of silver and red and realized that it was in fact a very large trout. It turned out to be a 21” cutthroat, the biggest I have caught on this river.In an instant, the fatigue and frustrations of the day no longer mattered, nor did the ordeal hike back in the rain that was still ahead of me. I thought about how awesome I felt in that moment, even when compared to smoother days when the fishing seemed easier. I guess our lives are the same. The greatest moments in my life often seem to come during the worst times: an unexpected act of kindness, your child doing something unexpected, or even just the opportunity to help someone else for a minute, instead of just focusing on your own problems. Perhaps it’s just that the good moments feel that much better during hard times. In any case, the reality is that life is one big storm full of challenges, but the real challenge is learning to focus on the good moments going on all around us, even in the middle of a storm.

As mentioned, the Bitterroot is running very high, but quite clear still, making for some great fishing if you can get your fly to the fish. I got into a bit of surface action with march browns, but most fish were caught on small stonefly nymphs. The weather was typical Rocky Mountain spring style, and included rain, extreme wind, the hot sun, and even a bit of snow.

Last weekend, I decided to make a journey to the West Fork of the Bitterroot in search of clear water, since the main stems were all running high and dirty. Ironically though, it was running as high and dirty as everywhere else when I got there, despite being a tailwater, but I was glad to be there anyways. I had told a coworker of my intentions just the day before, and he had been in disbelief that I would be willing to make a 2-hour drive, “just to go fishing.” I chalked it up to having spent his entire life in Western Montana, where world class fishing and hunting is about 15 minutes in all directions. Still though, during the drive, I got to thinking about how I’ve never really been bored, or in a hurry, during my excursions and adventures to new places in the outdoors, regardless of the long drives. For that matter, I often do as much hiking, as actual fishing, during my time on the rivers. I owe this to my Dad having instilled in me a true love of exploring new places in the outdoors (preferably in a Land Cruiser when possible). He would literally follow an unknown dirt road for hours, just to find out where it went. I am the same way, and will often pass up great fishing spots just so I can see new stretches of river, even if it means catching a few less fish that day. It also often means taking a Honda Civic to places it was never meant to go, another trait I learned from my Pops. Personally, I believe all kids should grow up exploring the outdoors and learning how to not be in a hurry occasionally. It is often during these excursions that I receive much needed inspiration, and it is a way of life that I am trying to instill in my own two Mini Mes.

Although running high and off color, the fishing on the West Fork was still pretty good, and I managed to catch a few nice cutties, bows, and even a good-sized bull trout. The next day, however, I went out to the main stem of the Root for a couple hours near town, and it was by far the better fishing. The water was clear enough that the fish could see my flies, but off color enough that they couldn’t see me, which made for some pretty ideal nymphing. The rainbows were chasing down pretty much everything in their current aggressive state, and were acrobatic and full of fight. Tan and brown stonefly was killing it at both locations.

3-28-17 bitterroot maclay

Somehow, it’s already been over a week since my last trip to the river, and amid a move, a trip to Oregon, and time with the mini me’s, I am only now finally making an update. My fishing time was brief, but good. During the ordeal of moving (luckily I had some good folks to help me with the heavy stuff), I managed to sneak in a couple of hours on the Clark Fork, right in the middle of town. Luckily for me, urban fishing in Missoula is better than most fly-fishing period, which is nice for those days where you only have an hour or two to spare. Also lucky for me, it appears I made it only a couple of days before what looks to be a pretty epic Clark Fork spring run-off this year. The fishing was fast and furious, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how awesome it felt to get out for even just a little while, and forgot all about being annoyed that I didn’t have more time. I decided that it’s because the busier we are, the more amazing that even the smallest moments of relief become. This year, more than ever, I have come to understand the importance of making every minute count, and it has made a difference in my life. I left the river rejuvenated, and resigned to finish out my busy weekend with a good attitude.

The rainbows are starting to get aggressive as we are nearing spawning season, and I managed to land a few lunkers, including this bruiser, who measured out at just over 20 inches.

Clark Fork 3-11-17

I imagine it will be a little challenging this week to find fishable water, but as always, the fish are still eating, if you can get your fly to them somehow.

It was another beautiful day of winter solitude on the Root. Having expected temps in the high 20s, I was delighted when I arrived and the gauge read 32. While getting into my waders and preparing my gear, a family pulled up and got out to look at the water, they appeared to be from out of town. The father walked over and commented, “Man, horrible day for fishing eh.” I replied, “Really? For me this is an awesome day!” He seemed genuinely surprised at my response, and commented that it was bad when compared to 60 degrees. I couldn’t disagree, I guess, and left it at that. I soon was into the water and began to hike further upstream to explore some spots I had noted on google earth this morning. As I hiked, I thought about how interesting it is that two people can be put in the same exact situation, but have incredibly different experiences nonetheless. I concluded that the key is gratitude. While the gentleman I met had considered it a poor day to be outdoors because he was comparing it to a nice summer day, I was grateful to have such a day to fish because I was comparing it to a 10-degree day, or to a crowded summer day on the river when it is tougher to find solitude, or to being in Illinois where there are no mountains or cold trout streams at all. Truly we have the power to experience beauty in all situations, if only we can learn true gratitude for what we have been given. That is something easier said than done, but a truth which I have experienced first-hand.

Fishing conditions were about as ideal as possible for a day of winter nymphing, I even caught a couple of fish by stripping streamers. The cutthroat spawning season must be around the corner, as I caught a couple of very large and pregnant fish, although I did not notice any fish preparing redds yet. Water clarity was excellent, and fishing was consistent for the entire afternoon. Today’s pound for pound fighter of the day award goes to this guy, don’t let his size fool you, he nearly pulled me in:

I even ran into some surface action on midges for about 5 minutes, the duration of which I spent trying to untangle my leader, eventually cutting it off and starting over completely. Of course, by this time, the fish were no longer rising. Classic Aric.

In the cold and wintery silence of the Sapphires, I geared up amid a flurry of snow that reminded me why I had nearly followed the allure of slightly more pleasant weather on the Bitterroot, despite how much I had felt like going to Rock Creek. I’ve gone fishing in zero degree conditions more times than I can remember, and yet, for some reason, I had been so concerned about a little bit of wind and a slightly colder temperature. I guess I had been focused on factors out of my control, rather than just following my heart, knowing that my gear would keep me warm at either location. While fishing, I contemplated this tendency to become preoccupied with the things we cannot control in life, while opportunities to better ourselves, and the lives of those around us, pass us by. If something is beyond our control, why worry about it? I resolved to focus more on that which I can affect, and to try not to worry too much about the rest.

Rock Creek was kind today, and within the first few casts, I landed a nice 18” cutty on a San Juan. From there, the theme stayed consistent throughout the afternoon; big fish readily taking big flies.In particular, I was getting into more browns than I am used to for the lower section, with the prize of the day being a 20” brown that was hanging out underneath a downed tree in some fast water, making for a difficult landing. Before leaving, I enjoyed a cold Pepsi while the sun disappeared, and thought about how glad I was that I followed my heart today, rather than the weather.

For me, wintertime is definitely the best time to find solitude in the outdoors. Out here under the Big Sky, surrounded by white, and with only the sound of water and ice, it’s easy to remember the things that really matter the most. If we aren’t careful, life has a way of making us forget.

As for the fishing itself, the Bitterroot fished well today subsurface. Small stoneflies and worms. Temps stayed in the high 20s until sunset, requiring only the occasional clearing of ice from the eyelets.