The Journey: part II Montana and Beyond

The last post I wrote came from a couch at my buddies house on some borrowed internet, now this one comes from my own house, looking back on one of the coolest trips I have ever been on.  After Utah, I headed strait up to the Beaverhead valley to fish none other than the Beaverhead river.  I desperately wanted to find remote water without any people, but unfortunately the Beav, or most major rivers in southern Montana, was not the location.  Despite the people and proximity to a town and freeway, I fished it for 4 days.  Seems that sighting multiple fish over two feet will change your idea of a good time.  I fished under an indicator and with streamers.  The best fish came under the bobber, which ended a few times with a nice bow in the net.  On of them was a solid slab of chrome, almost thought I had a steelhead on minus the size, fight, and location.

The most fun fishing was swinging streamers through big runs at dusk.  Camping right near a river pretty much allows you to fish until it is too dark, too cold, and too creepy to hang around any longer.  My most fun night on the Beav. came when I fished until 9 pm, well after sunset.  Almost every cast I had a hit on streamers, and occasionally a hook up.  At one point I landed 4 fish in 4 casts, all of which were decent browns.

There is something awesome about casting a line it total quiet and dark, listening solely to the sounds around you and waiting for a tug from the other end.  I remember listening to a beaver gnaw away at stumps, sounding much more like a typewriter than anything else.  I guess its memories like that I was looking for, more than just the quest for hog johnson.

One thing that never ceases to amaze me is the arrogance of fish, I wonder where a 6" fish gets off thinking he can swallow a 4" streamer, or for that case a 4" fish chasing a 6" streamer.  I will say that a productive streamer fishery is awesome!! and for those of you who are looking for a place like that, head up to the Beaverhead.

After my stay near Dillon, I headed north to the Bitterroot just in time to meet up with a god forsaken cold front blowing in from the freaking tundra.  Going from 70 degree days to 40 degree days with lows in the teens really screws with morale, and more importantly the fish.  The fishing slowed down dramatically to where we were catching only a handful of fish a day.  I still learned the basics of rowing and had some great experience on a drift boat.

After I was chilled like a piece of meat, I finally got out of the cold and headed down to the Owyhee.  This was by far the best fishing I had.  This was the first time I had ever fished for 20+" fish with dries, which gave me memories I will never forget.  It was basically sight fishing in off colored water, look for a massive dark spot and watch them precipitate into fish as they nosed the surface, then cast to it and if the presentation was right... sluurrp, the fish would nose up just enough to suck the fly off the top.  It was really technical but absolutely amazing.

If you can believe it, both these fish ate a sz 16 cream humpy.  What a way to end a trip.