Dates: September 13, 2008
Location: EPB&G Spot
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 1 brown
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
The season is winding down, and thankfully the temps are finally dropping as well. After a few weeks of no fishing, I found a drizzly, cool day to hit the Curd. I hoped things would be as ideal as possible, but fishing still sucked balls. The water was low and somewhat clear, fish were hardly rising, nymphing involved cleaning one's fly every second cast, and the fish were not very active. I barely got one 12" brown by setting my hook on a whim. Well, hopefully steelhead season will be eventful...
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
SeaWolf
Dates: Sept 16, 2008
Location: Land of the Lost
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: Mayflies, Bats
Fish landed: 1 Lake Wolf
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
QuickDraw
Well Me and naaz headed up to the lake after work for a lil nitebite action. the land of the lost did not disappoint. when we got out there, the water was absolute glass. the weather was soooo nice out, we setup on the backbone and began to cast big furry things. It wasn't long after we started that naaz had a large follow up to the boat, soon after that I had a ambitious bass in the boat.
After a while of no action we moved the boat over to the edge of the J-hole. Bingo! Northern on, it was an odd fish I thought he got off the line twice, but we were able to somehow get him in. Snapped a few pics and sent him on his way, 38" was the semi official measurement. Good night indeed!
Monday, September 1, 2008
What's that smell?
Dates: August 23, 2008
Location: Brule
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 1 lil guy
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
TAFKAY
Froot Boot
Scoot Boot
Jazz Hands
B-Chubnut
Xan
It was a special occasion, with the West Coast contingent of F.A.G. in the area for a wedding. We were near the Brule, and had some time to kill, so why not go fishing?
Because there are no fish in the Brule, that's why. But, we fished anyways. I caught a little guy, and had another one on. Jazzy also landed a small one. The rest of the day consisted of throwing rocks and gear at one another. All in all, a nice outing, which was capped off at the Cro Bar.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Watch Out For That Tree
Dates: August 17, 2008
Location: Canyon
Air temp: mid 80s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 4 or 5 browns
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
QD
Xan
Quickdraw recently purchased a canoe. The USS Poopship (Arleigh Burke Class) once again set sail down the Canyon, for a day of sun, fun and trout. We floated down to the Alpha Hole where we started fishing. Not much was going on there, but we did see a beaver swim by. Sadly, QD wasn't able to tie on a mouse fast enough to try and catch it.
We made our way down, fishing along the way. We saw numerous other floaters, including a 30 person kayak horde.
Times are tough these days, as the summer has brought forth the underwater plant life to full head. We rid our nymphs of vegetation almost as often as we cast. The only trout I was able to land were in the deeper runs, mostly devoid of the undergrowth.
QD skillfully navigated us through the perils of the Canyon, and for the second straight day, I put in an honest day's work on the stream. Hopefully this will be one of many trips on the Poopship.
Location: Canyon
Air temp: mid 80s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 4 or 5 browns
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
QD
Xan
Quickdraw recently purchased a canoe. The USS Poopship (Arleigh Burke Class) once again set sail down the Canyon, for a day of sun, fun and trout. We floated down to the Alpha Hole where we started fishing. Not much was going on there, but we did see a beaver swim by. Sadly, QD wasn't able to tie on a mouse fast enough to try and catch it.
We made our way down, fishing along the way. We saw numerous other floaters, including a 30 person kayak horde.
Times are tough these days, as the summer has brought forth the underwater plant life to full head. We rid our nymphs of vegetation almost as often as we cast. The only trout I was able to land were in the deeper runs, mostly devoid of the undergrowth.
QD skillfully navigated us through the perils of the Canyon, and for the second straight day, I put in an honest day's work on the stream. Hopefully this will be one of many trips on the Poopship.
Comfort Sport
Dates: August 16, 2008
Location: Warwick & Famous Original Ray's
Air temp: mid 60s to mid 80s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 1 bow, 2 panfish, 2 suckers
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
I've had quite a lot on my mind as of late. I'd been racking my brain, pacing the room, lost in my thoughts. I didn't even want to go fishing, but I knew I needed to. So early Saturday morning, I woke up without an alarm at 3:30, got my things and headed out. I've been wanting to fish a particular spot after visiting it months prior, to see if it held large trout. I arrived at the Warwick just before dawn and headed to the dam.
I stood on a large chunk of stone on the bank, and casted an egg sucking leech around my perimeter. As daylight slowly filled the areas around me, I started to see fish rise. I tied on a stimulator and eventually got a hit. Quickly getting the fish in, I discovered I had caught a crappie. The chances of large trout faded from my mind, but I continued to fish other areas by the dam to see what else I could land.
The sun started to peek over the large concrete wall. Standing in that place, faced with the cascade of water, the glowing mist, the trees, all amplified and sharpened with the yellow tint of my polarized glasses, I finally felt like I was in the right place. I hadn't solved my problems, but I knew, over time, that I would.
After landing one more crappie, I headed downstream to look for trout. I went directly to a deeper run, tied on some nymphs, and set to work. I was rewarded with two consecutive suckers, but was finally able to land a 12" bow. That was my fill of the Warwick, and I headed off to McD's for some biscuits.
Refueled, I drove to Famous Original Ray's. I tied on a hopper and set to work. I fished all the way up to the gallery, only sporting a dry. Between a hopper and a stimi, I had hits throughout the day, but wasn't able to land a single fish. I fished until I had worn myself out, until all the worries in my head were gone and the decisions I needed to make at this point in my life were made. I returned to my car, with my mind silent, my body exhausted, ready to go back to the world. And so I did.
Location: Warwick & Famous Original Ray's
Air temp: mid 60s to mid 80s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 1 bow, 2 panfish, 2 suckers
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
I've had quite a lot on my mind as of late. I'd been racking my brain, pacing the room, lost in my thoughts. I didn't even want to go fishing, but I knew I needed to. So early Saturday morning, I woke up without an alarm at 3:30, got my things and headed out. I've been wanting to fish a particular spot after visiting it months prior, to see if it held large trout. I arrived at the Warwick just before dawn and headed to the dam.
I stood on a large chunk of stone on the bank, and casted an egg sucking leech around my perimeter. As daylight slowly filled the areas around me, I started to see fish rise. I tied on a stimulator and eventually got a hit. Quickly getting the fish in, I discovered I had caught a crappie. The chances of large trout faded from my mind, but I continued to fish other areas by the dam to see what else I could land.
The sun started to peek over the large concrete wall. Standing in that place, faced with the cascade of water, the glowing mist, the trees, all amplified and sharpened with the yellow tint of my polarized glasses, I finally felt like I was in the right place. I hadn't solved my problems, but I knew, over time, that I would.
After landing one more crappie, I headed downstream to look for trout. I went directly to a deeper run, tied on some nymphs, and set to work. I was rewarded with two consecutive suckers, but was finally able to land a 12" bow. That was my fill of the Warwick, and I headed off to McD's for some biscuits.
Refueled, I drove to Famous Original Ray's. I tied on a hopper and set to work. I fished all the way up to the gallery, only sporting a dry. Between a hopper and a stimi, I had hits throughout the day, but wasn't able to land a single fish. I fished until I had worn myself out, until all the worries in my head were gone and the decisions I needed to make at this point in my life were made. I returned to my car, with my mind silent, my body exhausted, ready to go back to the world. And so I did.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
The Dark Night
Dates: August 1, 2008
Location: Great Lawn
Air temp: mid 60s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: mice
Fish landed: 3 or 4 browns
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
TP
Trout fishing has been few and far between since Montana. The weather has been hot and humid, so freaks like TP have spent the time chasing giant suckers. He claims they fight like hell, take you to your backing, yadda, yadda, yadda... But they are still suckers. He has slightly redeemed himself by landing a sweet Muskie, but only slightly.
It was time to return to the trout, under the stars and the new moon. We hiked way up the river to runs that TP felt would be productive. As the last bits of sunlight were fading across the valley, I got some nymphing in. Through cleaning the river bottom of much vegetation, I was able to land a decent 15" brown.
Soon, night took over, and it was mousing time. TP started to get some action and landed a trout or two. As we made our way down, most areas were active with trout, and we started to land them here and there. No huge fish were caught, but it was still a lot better than the last time I had night fished this area.
As the night wore on, I started to lose energy. TP decided to fish one last run, but lost his mouse in a tree on his first cast, and that was the end of our session. As night fishing goes, it was fairly productive, but Walter still eludes us...
Location: Great Lawn
Air temp: mid 60s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: mice
Fish landed: 3 or 4 browns
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
TP
Trout fishing has been few and far between since Montana. The weather has been hot and humid, so freaks like TP have spent the time chasing giant suckers. He claims they fight like hell, take you to your backing, yadda, yadda, yadda... But they are still suckers. He has slightly redeemed himself by landing a sweet Muskie, but only slightly.
It was time to return to the trout, under the stars and the new moon. We hiked way up the river to runs that TP felt would be productive. As the last bits of sunlight were fading across the valley, I got some nymphing in. Through cleaning the river bottom of much vegetation, I was able to land a decent 15" brown.
Soon, night took over, and it was mousing time. TP started to get some action and landed a trout or two. As we made our way down, most areas were active with trout, and we started to land them here and there. No huge fish were caught, but it was still a lot better than the last time I had night fished this area.
As the night wore on, I started to lose energy. TP decided to fish one last run, but lost his mouse in a tree on his first cast, and that was the end of our session. As night fishing goes, it was fairly productive, but Walter still eludes us...
Monday, July 21, 2008
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 QuickdrawThe Madison - The Agony
Photo courtesy of B-ChubnutThe 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
Photo courtesy of B-ChubnutWe 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 HandsAs 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
Photo courtesy of Jazz HandsThe 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
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-ChubnutWhat 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-ChubnutThe 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
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