The Great Salmon Fly Hunt of 2008

Photo courtesy of Jazz Hands

Ah, the salmon fly. Those lovable, hug-able, stupid, giant bugs that fatten trout and drive anglers insane (with joy or frustration). With all the snowfall that Montana received last winter, we were initially concerned that our target rivers would be blown out. As our trip neared, concern turned to optimism and then to worry. The rivers were starting to fish well, but the salmon flies were already hatching. Would we get there in time? Could we find the hatch? Would the fish be gorged already? As we learned, the answers to those questions would be, kinda, not really and who the fuck knows.


Dates: July 11-17, 2008
Location: Gallatin & Madison
Air temp: 80s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: shit loads of caddis and some salmon flies


Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:

Jazz Hands
B-Chubnut
Quickdraw
Xan


Jazzy and Chubnut were the first to arrive on Friday. With some time to kill before QD and I would arrive, they hit a familiar spot on the Gallatin. Unfortunately, this area was still blown out and the fishing was poor. They picked us up from the airport, and we made our way to the motel to taunt Jazz Hands over Brett Favre's recent drama. Evidently, he inhaled too much of Chubnut's anal sulfuric discharges, as he was a basket case all night.

Photo courtesy of Quickdraw

The Madison - The Agony

Photo courtesy of B-Chubnut

The next day, we traveled to the Madison to find these damn salmon flies. Over the next three and a half days, we made our way up and down the upper Mad trying to find our Mecca. A humble philosopher might say we had already found our Mecca, by being in the beautiful state of Montana, united as friends, but that philosopher can suck my ball sack. Water levels were good, the salmon flies were around, caddis were everywhere, and we wanted fish flying out of the water with insects falling out of their gills. But, it was simply not to be. Try as we might, dry fly activity was scant, even with thousands of bugs all over the water.

Photo courtesy of B-Chubnut

We gritted it out, casting nymphs by day, streamers at night, negotiating the hordes of fellow anglers, catching our fish here and there, with a whole lot of nothing in between.

Photo courtesy of B-Chubnut

Photo courtesy of Jazz Hands

Photo courtesy of Jazz Hands

Photo courtesy of Jazz Hands

Photo courtesy of Jazz Hands

As Tuesday arrived, we gave it one last shot, before returning to Bozeman and calling an end to our Mad River adventure.

Photo courtesy of Jazz Hands

The Gallatin - The Ecstasy

We dropped off QD at the airport and had a few hours to kill before Jazzy had to leave. We went back to our familiar Gallatin spot to find the river still blown out. Fortunately, there are two channels at this spot, the main branch and a side branch, which in turn has what looks like an irrigation canal. The side branch was fairly normal in terms of flows, and Chubbers and Jazz landed some decent trout. When it was time, we took Jazz Hands to the airport and then came back, where I was able to land a few as well.

The next morning, Chubnut and I hit up a fly shop at Four Corners for some flies and advice. We were told that the Gal was flowing well and wade-able up by Big Sky. We fired up the Kia and made our way there. Neither of us had ever fished this area, and we did some scouting before selecting a spot to start our fishing.

Photo courtesy of B-Chubnut

What commenced was a full session of catching fish all day long. We were interrupted by a thunderstorm, at which time we ate some salami sandwiches and drank some beer. When we resumed, the fishing was a bit slower, but still productive. We didn't catch anything huge, but a few nice fish were brought to hand amongst the scads of bows. After days of struggling for fish amidst massive crowds on big water, we had a stretch of river all to ourselves, with every fishy run producing. We fished to exhaustion, and called it a day and trip.

Photo courtesy of B-Chubnut

The next morning, I dropped Chubnut at the airport and went back to our familiar Gal spot for the White Bite. I landed a few trout, a few whitefish, and that was that. I boarded the plane sweaty, exhausted, sore, and content, and I didn't even have to visit an airport bathroom stall. That's what Montana is all about.

Photo courtesy of B-Chubnut

Silent Night

Date: July 5, 2008
Location: New spot, Bridge & Lawn
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ?
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 1 brook

Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:

Booter
Xan
Scooter


Needing a healthy restocking of flies, I headed out to Lunds late on Saturday afternoon. After dropping a healthy amount of dough on a wide assortment of dollar flies, I decided to check out a spot high up on the Curd. QD, Timbo and I had driven here once, but did not explore the area as the river was high and muddy. Now, it was slow and clear, so I set up and headed upstream. The river was mostly wide and slow. The few riffles I saw were quite shallow, though I did scare some fish here and there. After a ways, I headed back and went downstream from the bridge to find more of the same. I tried fishing one riffle, but didn't get any strikes.

Having some more time to kill before Booter and Scooter would join me for some night fishing, I went down to the EPB&G spot to see if I could get some casts into my favorite run. Alas, the area was crawling with fishermen, so I got back into the car and headed to our rendezvous area, the Bridge Spot. The sun was setting behind the bluff, and I made a quick nymph run along QD's favorite spot. There were fish rising here and there, but I was too lazy to tie on a dry, and found no interest in my copper John.

Walking back to my car to get my headlamp, Boot and Scoot pulled in, and we had a beer. After finishing our round, we hit the river as the last bits of sunlight faded into night. I was able to pull a small brookie on a hex dry before I could no longer see my fly on the water. Now, it was mousing time. The absence of moonlight made the fishing even more difficult, and the action was slow. Perhaps the uneven barometric pressure or lack of moon had some effect, as the hits were few and far between for all three of us.

After fishing around the bend from QD's spot, we headed to the Lawn, where we fished two areas. More of the same. Tired, we called it a night and headed back home.

Balls Deep

Date: June 23, 2008
Location: The Magical Land that time forgot
Air temp: 80s
Water temp: ?
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 1 Big Fucker, 2 Small Fuckers

Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:

Quickdraw
Coach McGuirk (non F.A.G.)
Naaz (non F.A.G.)

yea another great day, I'll keep it short and sweet. first cast I caught the biggest walleye of my life right about 24" maybe a bit over that. that was at about 7:30 am fished all day saw a ton of big muskies and northerns maybe about 15 follows up to the boat.

Had lunch at roman's which was awesome, coach joined us after lunch and we caught some crappies and had more big follows. Coach and I left for home around 4 P.M.

good day.

Big Fucker.

Date: June 20, 2008
Location: The Magical Land that time forgot
Air temp: 80s
Water temp: ?
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 2 Big Fuckers

Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:

Quickdraw
Coach McGuirk (non F.A.G.)

Well me and coach headed out to the magic lake around the azz crack of noon. it was just a perfect day to be outside about 80-85 degrees out. we got setup on the alpha hole and started our drift/casting for large toothy beasties. It wasn't long before we had multiple follows. the fish seemed a bit lazy though, not hyper aggressive.

A few hours later and I hooked into this big boy.
at first I didn't think he was that big, he seemed to be swimming at the boat for the beginning of the fight, he made a few strong runs and we hauled him in the boat(excellent network by coach). we did a quick measure on him and he was just over 40" and chunky. We took a few pictures and released him, he swam off really strong which is always great to see. Caught him on the eastern edge of the J-hole, near weed island on the edge of the backbone. That fish turned out to be the biggest northern caught by us so far on that lake. Also this fish qualifies for a Master Angler Certificate from the Minnesota fishing hall of fame, I'll be submitting this fish this year. Bow down to your master. Now working on a Grandmaster Flash Angler Certificate.

about a half an hour later I hooked this one. He was a scrappy little bastard, ended up measuring up at a respectable 30".


It was a good day.

Broken Record

Date: June 14, 2008
Location: EPB&G Spot
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ?
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 4 browns

Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:

Quickdraw
Xan
TP


Well, the water was still brown. Storms over the week had brought the Curd river to over twice its normal levels, with discharges over 1,100 cfs (normal is 100 cfs). The river rapidly recovered by Saturday, with gauge readings almost exactly the same as last Sunday.

Quickdraw, Timbo and I arrived at the EPB&G spot to find a horde of fishermen upstream of the parking lot. It appeared they were part of some sort of class. We approached them, displayed our credentials, and announced that when they were ready, they too could join the F.A.G. UMC. Actually, we didn't, but we should have.

Seeing a few other fishermen at the pool by the lot, we headed downstream. It was another slow day. I had a few fish pop off, and false hooked a few more. TP and QD landed a few here and there as we continued to march downstream. They headed further downstream than I did, as I made a futile effort to catch fish. After a while, I had lost almost every decent nymph I had. By the time they came back up, they had reported some decent fish landed. QD had a "state record" fish on, but it had popped off mid fight.

We decided to fish some runs as we made our way back to the car. I decided to try the nice, deep run that is upstream from the lot. With my fly box decimated, I was now left to dead drifting an orange bugger. I fished the lower portions of the run for a short while, then decided to hit the head, where it was easier to wade. After a long, frustrating day, I landed a decent fish on the tail end of a drift. I continued to cast upstream, where the riffle poured into the run, and hooked up a sweet slab. It was chunky enough where I had trouble handling it, and wasn't able to measure it up against my rod before he was able to wiggle free (when the fuck is my new net going to get shipped?). After a couple more trout, it was time to go. I was able to end my day on a good note, with one "tri-county record" brown landed.

That's what a hamburger's.... all about

Date: June 14, 2008
Location: ?
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ?
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: ?

Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:

Booter
Xan


Normally, I would have said my Saturday morning was starting out poorly. For starters, I had just brought my car to the shop. I should have been alarmed by the ominous fissure that ran completely across their narrow parking lot, but for some reason that worry simply didn't stick. Booter was coming to get me, and fishing was in store. The sun was shining and good feelings enveloped me.

Fruiter arrived and I hopped into Old Blue. I checked my cell and had eight texts, mostly from other fishermen eager to join us. Despite the prospects of bad fishing in low, clear water and sunny skies, and having my car swallowed by a sinkhole, life felt good. I literally did not have a care in the world. I was going fishing with friends, and that is all that mattered.

Or so I thought.

As we drove up 35W through Bloomington, Booter had to make a quick stop in the area to pick something up for work. Running on an empty stomach, we decided to hit up one of the local fast food establishments. Curving around the highway offramp, we came across a McDonalds. Duly noted, but we would look for a few more options before deciding. Only moments later, all was decided, and this good day shot through the roof to stratospheric levels. Right behind the McDs stood... an In-N-Out Burger. A MOTHERFUCKING IN-N-OUT BURGER!

I sat there slack jawed like a mouth-breather for a few seconds, trying to process what I was seeing. It didn't look like any In-N-Out I had seen before, it looked like a converted IHoP, but the name was there, along with another large sign proclaiming $1 burgers. Joy rushed from my body to my brain and then back down to my lungs as I shouted, "THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER!"

And then I woke up... on Friday morning... dehydrated and exhausted from all the drinks the night before... still trapped in a land where paunchy yokels worship Culver's pap and overpriced juicy lucys.

Fucking A.

Don't Ask, Don't Tell

Date: June 8, 2008
Location: Bridge & Great Lawn
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ?
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 3 browns

Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:

Xan
Booter
Scoot

Scooter, Booter and myself headed to the Bridge to play in the brown water. Recent rains had slightly raised the water level, while discharge was about twice the norm. The water was very murky, but fortunately, the river wasn't blown out and the fish were feeding.

We parked by the bridge itself, and started to make our way up the stream. I was able to land a decent trout just in front of the bridge to start the day. Reassured that the day wouldn't be a complete bust due to the water color, I continued to nymph the run, much to my future dismay. The prior day I had spoken at length with a fellow fly fisherman. The topic of suckers came up, and I happily declared that I had yet to catch one this year. Naturally, I hooked one the very next day. My second fish quickly splashed the surface when I set, giving me the false hope that it was troutish. It kept low for the remainder of the fight, though after seeing it flash a few times through the murk, I started to get a bad feeling. As I brought it to the surface after it tired out, I let out a shriek of disgust. I had on a large, disgusting sucker with my stone fly impaled through its inflamed sphincter of a mouth. Still awaiting my new net to be shipped, I was faced with the prospect of handling the putrid bag of mush with my bare hands. However, I got lucky, and the large fly I had been using was easily accessible, and I was able to pop it off without having to handle the shit eater. After the unpleasantness, I moved upstream to find fish of repute.

Fishing was slow all day, with few rises due to the brown. We worked the immediate area and then headed to the Great Lawn. We stuck close to the immediate lawn area, and each of us pulled a few fish here and there.

Scooter pulls in a nice brown.

Once we were tuckered out and hungry, we decided to forgo the EPB&G and try out the Lawton Bar for a change of pace. The Lawton had been closed for a while, but was now open again. It is a very simple bar, with a small menu of mostly burgers and fried apps. We tried their curds and had a few burgers, but were not overly impressed.