Fall Fly Fishing on the Big Hole River, MT

After a long hot summer of closures and restrictions on the Big Hole we finally got some cooler weather and rain. With flows up, temps down, and restrictions lifted, it seemed like as good a time as any to give the Big Hole a shot. Going off the advice of Larry, a Big Hole veteran, a few of us loaded up and headed out to the Jerry Creek Bridge public access. 

I have to say that the drive out to the Big Hole was worth the trip alone. It was an early fall morning and the mist was still rising off the river as we followed the curving road through the canyon. The cottonwoods along the bank were shinning bright yellow as the sun peaked up over the tall canyon wall. Below us, the river seemed to pull all of fall's beauty into a single being. 

Early Fall Fly Fishing on the Ruby River, MT

In Southwestern Montana it seems that summer has passed just as quickly as it arrived. The trees are turning orange and yellow, the temperature is dropping, and sometimes we wake up to fresh snow on the mountains. Gone are the days of 9:30 sunsets, dry heat, and air conditioning. Gone also are the epic hatches and topwater fishing that make Montana's rivers so famous in the summer months. To some, this may sound depressing, but the onset of fall brings with it some pretty amazing fly fishing to those who are willing to adapt.

Spinners In the Spotlight

Picture This:

It's early morning or late evening, and you see a big fish sipping steadily, seamlessly, mere inches off an undercut bank. These are not normal rises, and to the untrained eye almost appear to be below the surface. If and when you’ve seen it, you most likely couldn’t believe your eyes as you open your fly box in complete bewilderment. If you’re sneaky enough to get within range without spooking the fish, then you have only a few casts to deliver the right cast with perfect presentation. The pressure is on! But wait, what on earth is it sipping? You go through your mental checklist - Caddis? Nope. PMD? Maybe. Ant? Possibly. You inspect the rise again, only to see the dorsal and tail fins break the water, like a porpoising whale. What on earth is it taking?

The first time I experienced such fishing was on the Henry’s Fork in Last Chance, ID. I was both enamored by and frustrated with these seemingly impossible-to-catch fish that would slowly move upstream in small pods. No matter what fly I chose, they never showed even a slight interest. One day everything changed. I stopped into Mike Lawson’s Henry’s Fork Anglers to ask for fly recommendations. The man at the desk pointed me towards Hi-Vis PMD and Rusty spinners in size 18. Like most anglers, I was turned off by the thought of fishing with such a small fly, but decided to pick up a few, and headed out to the river to give these new flies a test run.  

Confronting The Catch-and-Release Dilemma

A little over a week ago I was stopped outside a deli in Ennis, Mt. waiting for a couple clients to grab some lunch. While I waited, I picked up the Spring issue of Outside Bozeman, the cover article of which read: Catch & Release - An Ethic Investigated. Naturally, my interest was piqued and I thumbed my way to the article in the back of the issue. The article, which was framed by a photo of a hooked trout being pulled through the water, presented the idea that catch-and-release, as it is practiced today, has actually far more negative impacts upon fish populations than most fly fishermen would like to admit. Without going into too much detail (Because I think every angler should read the full article), the article cited extensive research by Montana's Department of Wildlife and Parks detailing the impacts of poor catch and release practices upon Southwestern Montana's trout population. Perhaps the most staggering figure in the entire article was the 'conservative' estimate that in SW Montana, a minimum of 100,000 fish die annually after being released, a number which excludes fish caught by outfitters and guiding services. The article then went on to explain further downsides of catch-and-release including debilitating hook injuries, warming water trends, and the idea of 'delayed' mortality, but that number just stuck in my head. 100,000 seemed like A LOT!

To be fair, I'd never really put too much thought into catch and release. Its something that I've been taught to do, just another aspect of the sport that I love. With rare exception, I've always assumed that my released fish live on to fight another day and I sleep easy knowing that I'm doing my part for fish conservation. The article opened my eyes, bringing upon me a degree of guilt which made me uncomfortable. I wondered to myself: What if I've been killing fish this whole time? What if I'm part of the problem?

After some self examination and conversation with my wife, who also read the article, I came to terms with myself by examining my own catch-and-release practices. In general (and not to boast), I feel pretty good about the way I release fish. I use a fish friendly net, usually de-barb my hooks, wet my hands before handling a fish, keep the fish in the water as much as possible, and revive the fish thoroughly before letting it go. That, however, is not to say that I don't have my problems, and I know that there've been times when I have not adhered as strictly to good catch-and-release practices as I should. For those occasions, I wish I could go back in time and kick myself for not releasing a fish sooner, or for holding a fish out of water too long just to get the right picture.

Anyways, with the article read, and a lesson learned, I went back to fishing. Just the next day, my wife and I were driving up to the Upper Madison on our day off. We were both moved by the article, and spent a good deal of the car ride discussing just how we could improve our own catch-and-release practices, especially with regards to taking pictures of fish that we catch. We ended up having a great day on the river, catching many fish on nymphs whilst maintaining our new and improved release practices. We left the river that day feeling pretty good about all of the fish we let go, and over the next week of work, the article and its contents slowly left my thinking.

A fish we caught that day on the Madison River, and an attempt at release-friendly photography. (Edit by Alina Garner)

Hatch Heaven

Up until this past summer I had yet to really experience a true hatch. Sure, I had seen clouds of caddis skittering off and around the water from time to time, and even identified various mayflies in the early morning/ late evening, but a real hatch - The kind of aquatic insect activity that makes the biggest fish in the river seem like sharks in a feeding frenzy....... I had yet to experience anything like this.

Rewind to the Summer of 2014: I had just graduated college only to be spit out into adult world of jobs, rent, and paying for food; however, before diving into that world I wanted one last summer for play. I decided that I needed a job in or around Northwest Fly Fishing Mecca aka: Montana/Idaho. Somehow, I managed to get a job at The Henry's Fork Lodge in Island Park, Idaho on the famous headwaters of the Snake River - The Henry's Fork. Now, the Henry's Fork is arguably one of the best if not the best (Depending upon who you ask) dry fly river in the continental United States, and anglers come from all over the world to take a shot at its big, selective rainbows. The river is very unique in terms of appearance - it meanders through the open plains of the Island Park Caldera in an almost spring creek-like manner and is incredibly wide, yet perfectly wade-able averaging 3-4 feet deep. Aquatic vegetation flourishes and grows abundantly in the river which in-turn allows for an abundance of bugs! Caddis, PMD's, March Browns, Green Drakes, Brown Drakes, Flavs, Tricos, Hoppers, Salmon flies - these hatches are what give the Henry's Fork its reputation and which also allow the local rainbow trout population to grow to incredible sizes averaging a healthy 16 - 24 inches - Its like a huge all-you-can-eat Bug Buffet for Trout. But it gets better, given the fly fishing only and catch and release restrictions on the Henry's Fork, every fish that gets caught goes right back in, resulting in fish that have learned the difference between food and fly the hard way over time, we're talking really smart fish.....almost frustratingly smart, but in a good way.

The Henry's Fork - Yep, you can wade across the whole thing.