OK, now it's fishing season...

Now I remember what this is all about. It never takes long.

A couple weeks ago, back before the rafts were inflated and cleared of snow and you could still legally fish with "last year's" license, a freak warm February afternoon tempted me, my buddy and just about every other fly angler in western Montana out to the Bitterroot. It was my first day on the water this year, and for a short wade fishing mission, it served its purpose perfectly. Walking around on gravel bars, letting the dogs stretch it out and looking at trout water is good for the soul after the winter we've had. I even got the skunk off, albeit in the same way I usually kick off each season: by snagging a trout in the ass with a worm. I also caught one on an egg-- even classier.

Yesterday was different. The boat helped. For better or worse, after spending just eight short years in Montana, I find it hard to consider a wade trip a "real" fishing day anymore, particularly on any big western river. It's just so much easier to efficiently cover the big water when you're floating, not to mention the camaraderie and storage space a boat provides. Four rods, three dudes, two dogs, three boat bags, miscellaneous other shit and a growler of Single Hop ale take up a lot of space. One upside of the early season is you don't need a cooler to keep your beer and $5 foot-longs cold, though four hours of bouncing around on the floor of a self-bailing raft with the aforementioned dudes and dogs can do a number on Subway bread.


The trout played an important role as well, mostly because they were biting. In nicer weather-- provided the company's good and the beer's cold--even the slowest day of fishing can be a lot of fun. Early season, when the forecast high of 40 or 45 may only hang around for an hour or two before the sun dips behind the Bitterroots and things start to refreeze (like your fingers), a slow day of watching the bobber not bob can seem downright silly...like your time would've been better spent staying home and tying flies while you wait for the fishing season to honestly start.


Though far from red hot, the fishing yesterday was decent; some might even say good, considering that just last week we were skiing 3'+ of fresh powder and as I write this anywhere above 4,000 feet or so in elevation is still very much clenched in winter's icy jaws. Sure, we fished some bobbers, but at least they went down every once in a while--only to return to the surface with a scrappy trout attached to the end of the line. I also moved several nice fish swimming an articulated sculpin around on a sink tip, though the farmer in me only landed one.

It just felt like the river was waking up. The water looked more green than gray, and every once in a while a fish would randomly rise, even if it was just a whitey eating a midge. We poked our noses back in to a spring-fed slough where we found half a dozen nice fish holding in near-still water, its glassy surface occasionally dimpled as trout lazily rose to slurp something invisible out of the film.

Then Brett tied on a dry fly--a real, honest to goodness size-10 skwala of his own design--and in one of my favorite spots on one of the Root's most popular floats, this happened:

So it's here. With forecast highs in the low to mid 50s much of the coming week, it looks like this just may be the start of it. We didn't see any adult skwalas yesterday, but we also didn't look very hard, and they aren't exactly known for being the most social stoneflies in the world. Even during the peak of the hatch you may only see half a dozen on the water over the course of a day. That trout sure acted like he had at least seen a couple.

But who knows? As I write this it's snowing outside the living room window, and another nasty cold snap like we've become so accustomed to this winter could easily put things on hold for another week or two. But it sure seems like all signs point to the Root giving up some of the first solid dry fly fishing of the season in the next week or so. Rest assured I'm not the only one who feels this way, and you better believe the river is going to see some pressure this week as every trigger-happy fishing guide in the county heads out to test their new skwala pattern and get a few licks in before clients show up.

I knew I should've tied more flies and wrapped up any remaining winter chores earlier, because from here on out, I'm going fishing every chance I get.

Havre has it...

Nima and I made the 4+ hour trek northeast to Havre this past weekend to visit our friends Brett, Lisa, Lady and Nash up on the Hi-Line. Brett and Lisa are both teachers up there, and Lady and Nash are their English setters; Lady's the old veteran, Nash the 1 1/2 year old bird-stud in training. These are some of my favorite people/dogs, and it was great to have the chance to observe them in their natural environment.

There is nothing like spending time up in this part of Montana in the fall...the sprawling open country, the small ranching towns, and the abundance of game seem reminiscent of a past era. The place is a hunter's paradise. What people do in Havre the other eight months of the year, however, when you can't shoot stuff, is a mystery to me.

Northeastern Montana had some cold, wet weather this past spring/early summer, and supposedly bird numbers are down because of those storms. Brett as well as some other friends have found tougher than usual hunting in the area so far this season, and FWP reports say upland birds of all species are below average this year in that part of the state. Nonetheless, this is flippin' birdy country, and we found roosters in all the spots we hunted over the weekend...maybe not as many as last year, but they were there, and they were in the right places. Rudy was just as wily as ever, and we probably missed or didn't have shots on more birds than we killed. Pretty par for the course for me...



Brett is a high school biology teacher in town, and he benefits from connections with students' parents and faculty who are landowners in the area. Nothing like private access. He is also a passionate bird hunter, and the guy does his homework (let's just say that every flushed bird is entered in his GPS). We were able to hunt a variety of public and private land over the course of two and a half days, and saw plenty of pheasants, Huns, antelope, whitetails, and mule deer. Even ran in to a rattlesnake one morning that caused us to change our minds regarding a hunt in a particular creek bottom. Usually they would be in their dens by this time of year, but it's been so warm recently that it's obviously still good advice to mind your step.


Speaking of speed goats, after pheasant hunting Saturday morning, we put the sneak on a group of antelope that had several big bucks milling around in it. I didn't have an antelope tag for that unit (they sold out in a matter of hours this summer), but Brett did. We belly-crawled up to the crest of a rise where Brett was able to make a 300 yard shot with his 7mm Mag., dropping this 15 1/2 x 16 1/2 buck in his tracks. We spent the rest of the afternoon getting him cleaned up and considering which part of him to eat first.


Needless to say, breakfast Sunday morning was pan-friend antelope tenderloin. We did a cast-and-blast on a local river that I've been asked to withhold the name of, and had good pheasant hunting...and poor to very poor fishing. Good thing we're keeping it a secret! A handful of trout were farmed on dry flies (mostly on my part, of course), and we saw some massive brown trout push out of a couple of shallow tail-outs. 'Tis the season for those big boys to be fired-up and aggressive, but the quality of the streamer fishing that day didn't show it. It was still a great day: I'll always sign up for new water with good friends.


With a long drive home ahead of me Sunday night, we got off the water reasonably early and hit the road. Another weekend well-spent in good company and great country. I look forward to making it up that direction again in November for some deer hunting and so I can take another crack at some of the roosters I missed.

Photographs by Brett Shelagowski

(Mostly) Silent Skies

Sunrise over the Missions


Pesca making a great retrieve on a not-so-great bird

Neglecting some minor responsibilities in favor of going duck hunting, Karl and I took a look up around Ninepipes this morning. Gorgeous morning: clear, cold, with fog coming off the potholes...birdy. Apparently the birds didn't agree, as there wasn't much happening. We did see several good flights of geese throughout the morning, but they had other plans that didn't include us! I did manage to double-up on a flight of five blue-wing teal that materialized out of thin air over the decoys (just about the time I was dozing off). Broke down out of boredom towards late morning and popped a scaup...maybe I'll feed it to my roommates. Good to get out again. I'm Clearwater-bound tomorrow morning!

Three little birds...

Karl and Pesca peering out from the frozen bush

Looking north over the decoys

First Bird of the Season

I had a half-day trip today, which gave me the afternoon off to finally make it out in to the grouse woods with gun and dogs in tow. Well, maybe it was me who was in tow! Hunted some great cover west of Missoula, flushed five birds, killed two. The dogs did well and I immediately remembered why I love fall so much. Bring on the ducks and ditch parrots!