Montana speed run

 After returning home from Italy, we were really feeling the call of Montana, which is part of our summer tradition.  We couldn't let tradition fall by the wayside.  We noticed a ruptured sebaceous cyst on Birch the day we picked him up from boarding, and it was a race against the clock to get it healed by the time we were leaving for Montana in a week.  Luckily dogs heal pretty quickly, and his wound closed and was strongly scabbed over by the time we left, though we still made him wear his Dolly Parton t-shirt to keep him from trying to lick the scab.  We were not going to risk his health, even for tradition.  

We set out from Olympia after each getting off work a little early on Thursday.  Typically we drive to Missoula and stay the night and catch a half day on the Madison after sleeping in till mid-morning.  This time, we did not have that option as the only spring creek days available were Friday and Sunday with a day to fish elsewhere in between.  We resigned ourselves to the fact it was going to be a trip with little sleep.  We rolled into our rental outside of Livingston around 3:00 am and after unpacking and settling in, we were in bed close to 4:00 am.  The alarm went off around 6:45, and we made breakfast before heading to the creek to check in around 8:00 am.  We prefer to get to the creek earlier, but we had to sacrifice for a little sleep, so we were surveying for fish around 9:00 am.  Reading the creek is always a fun challenge, and eventually we were in to some fish around 11:30 when I caught my first rainbow.  In the back of my head of course I was thinking, 1/3 of the way to the spring creek slam, since I missed out on it the last two years.  Mid-afternoon, we took a lunch break and parked the truck on the banks of the Yellowstone where we relaxed and enjoyed a little bit of shade.  We started fishing again around two or three, but things were a little slow until around 4:30 when Shaun caught a beautiful Yellowstone cutthroat.  I picked up a handsome brown just after 5:00 (2/3 for those keeping track).  We fished for another hour or so, but by this time, the lack of sleep was really hitting us, so we headed back to the house for dinner and straight to bed.  

 

      

 

With our gap day, we decided to head over to fish the Gallatin.  We hooked into a lot of fish but had trouble landing them, which is just how it goes sometimes.  I did manage a beautiful rainbow mid-morning.  We fished a few more spots in the meadows just outside the park until the winds kicked up to an unenjoyable level, and we headed for home once again with plans to arrive at the creek the next morning by 7:00 am.  

After arriving at our desired time, we fished around a few spots and walked a good distance looking for fish.  We saw plenty but could not figure out what they were taking.  Eventually, around 11:15, I hooked and landed an absolute beauty of a Yellowstone cutthroat, which was a feat in and of itself as that fish took me on an absolute run down the creek, but it also meant I had my spring creek slam- 3/3 species!  It didn't matter to me that it happened over the course of two days, I was just happy to have done it.  We fished on the rest of the day, trying out some new spots but not having much much actually catching fish (I feel we used up all of our luck this past spring when we caught 20 apiece!), but the fading day yielded some beautiful scenes punctuated by the gathering storm clouds.  We even spotted a great horned owl on our walk out of the creek and watched it in awe for a few minutes, satisfied with another successful day on one of our favorite creeks in the world.  

The next day, we decided to do a short hike near Dillon as we made our way toward Missoula and home.  We had done this hike before and while it's very steep, it's short, and there are naturally reproducing Arctic Grayling in the lake.  We trudged up the trail, not at all accustomed to the altitude but motivated by the prospect of catching some grayling.  We were pleased to find no one else at the lake, though it was cooler than we expected.  We caught several fish and enjoyed watching a Western Tanager near the lake.  Shortly, menacing clouds began to develop overhead, so we made our way back to the truck, not intent on being stuck in a storm at 7500'.  We pushed home that night, short on sleep but content with some more wonderful Montana memories.  Unfortunately, we found a second ruptured sebaceous cyst on Birch's hip which was particularly nasty and would impact our summer plans for a few more weeks yet.  

Summer Hikes 2025

Unfortunately, due to a few unforeseen circumstances, our hiking season got off to a late start.  We had a family trip to Italy, which while fun (complete with a day of Shaun and me fishing for big brown trout), delayed our summer plans for two reasons- one, we were gone, and two, when we got home, Birch ended up with not one, but two, sebaceous cyst ruptures which ended up being pretty difficult to heal though thankfully did not require surgery.  With the first one healed, we thought were were in the clear, so during a long weekend in Montana, we hiked up to a lake that held a naturally reproducing population of Arctic Grayling.  We played chicken with an impending thunderstorm, and after catching a few fish each, we decided to head back down to the car as we had a long drive ahead of us to get back toward home.  It was at that point we discovered ruptured cyst number two, which was worse than the first one.  Sigh. 

It wasn't a totally fishless vacation...

With a two night backpack and summit of Old Snowy looming, I had to get in some elevation hikes and quickly.  Shaun and I squeezed in an evening hike at Paradise, and I was able to hike with my friend Laura up to Comet Falls.  Once Birch was healed, we did another evening hike down in the South Cascades.  None of the hikes were particularly long, but the climbing and elevation gain helped prepare my knees for the girls' trip to Old Snowy which was finally here.  

I drove down to Packwood Wednesday night to check into the motel we secured to save us from a long drive to the trailhead the morning of our hike.  My friends, Hannah and Candice, left from Tacoma about an hour and a half after I left Olympia.  Once checked in, I started last minute preparations to organize my gear and make any last minute packing decisions.  About five minutes in, the lights went out suddenly.  Great, but at least I had a headlamp, as the sun was setting, the room pitch black.  How long would the outage last anyway- an hour? Wrong. The power remained out for the next several hours, predictably restored around two AM after we were all fast asleep and awakened to all lights on, TV on, eyes open.  Eventually we all drifted back to sleep for a few more hours.

Up and at it early, we headed to the trailhead, intent to start hiking by 8:30 or so.  It had rained all day Wednesday up high, and Thursday dawned foggy and chilly at elevation.  At the last minute, I threw another insulating layer in my pack, which turned out to be a wise decision.  We made quick time on the trail, reaching Snowgrass Flat in just under two hours, and then it was time to find a campsite.  My goal was to be close to water for convenience, and we were lucky to find a site next to a small creek which would provide easy filtering while also providing a good mix of shelter during the hottest parts of the day and open canopy during the cool mornings.  The downside of the site was it didn't really accommodate three tents, but we redneck rigged it- Candice in her two person tent in the upper spot, while Hannah and I did some real jigsaw puzzle work to cram our two one-person tents in a spot made for one.  The weather was supposed to warm mid afternoon, but that clearly wasn't happening, and since there are no fires allowed, we decided to hike around a bit to stay warm.  We climbed about a mile and a half up to the junction with the PCT, which we would also do the next morning on our way to Old Snowy.  The views on day one were minimal, but the low hanging clouds made for a cozy, moody scene.  We eventually descended and decided on an early dinner before climbing into our tents and warm sleeping bags.  

We got a little later start than I hoped the next morning, but we were finally on our way toward Old Snowy approaching 9 AM.  Climbing to the PCT junction, the views grew much more expansive than the day prior when we were socked in by clouds.  After taking a few pictures at the junction, we continued to climb upward on the PCT, now flanked by meadows of wildflowers against a backdrop of increasingly volcanic scenes.  We now had views of Adams, St Helens, and after cresting the ridge and rounding a bend, Mt. Rainier.  We could also see Goat Lake cradled in its verdant cirque straight across the horizon.  We took lots of pictures which slowed our pace, but we didn't care.  There were lots of friendly hikers out and about, and the overall vibe was grateful and carefree.  We eventually approached the lingering snowfield I had read about in the trip reports.  After crossing with care, we paused for a quick snack and more photos before tackling the switchbacks up the PCT to the junction with the scramble to Old Snowy.  We ate a quick lunch and fueled up on some electrolytes at the saddle before starting the short but steep scramble.  I also snapped some photos of a badass little kid who had summited and was on her way down the switchbacks.  I flagged her dad down and got his number so I could share the photos with him (damn Android users) at the end of our trip, which I did, and he was really thankful to have that memory of his daughter captured.  Candice was not comfortable with the scramble, so she stayed lower while Hannah and I continue upward, picking our way along the user trail that ascended through various sized boulders and scree with one slightly exposed section that made me a little nervous.  Once at the summit, a couple was just descending, which gave us a good half hour on the summit alone.  We admired the endless views in all directions and basked in the alpine sun while reflecting on our 20 years of friendship that started all the way back in Maryland when we met during graduate school interviews.  The scramble down was a little nervy just because we were tired and going down is always sketchier for me than going up, but we took our time and eventually met back up with Candice.  The three of use made our way down the switchbacks, pausing along the way for more photos and truly soaking in our surroundings. The snowfield was less crowded and easier to navigate in the softer snow, and before too long, we arrived back at our campsite. 

Once back at camp, we decided to eat an early dinner and head to Goat Lake to watch the sunset which would require a hike back in the dark via headlamp.  It would make for a long day, but we were all afraid we wouldn't want to get up early enough in the morning for sunrise.  The hike up the Lily Basin trail gave way to beautiful scenes spread across the valley.  Once at very crowded Goat Lake, the wind picked up, and we decided to move back down the trail into a slightly wind-sheltered area where we watched the sun sink to our west, wildflowers swaying in the stiff breeze.  We hiked out by headlamp and were eager to crawl into our sleeping bags at the end of a long but satisfying day.  

The next morning, all I could think about was a burger from the Huff n Puff, so after we packed our things and made sure our camp was clean, we hiked out mid-morning and made it to the car in plenty of time to enjoy some well-earned burgers and shakes.  

A couple of asides from this trip.  I can't even imagine trying to start this trip on a weekend or even a Friday.  We parked really close to the trailhead early Thursday morning, but when we came out on Saturday, the lot and overflow lot were brimming with cars with other people parked at the Berry Patch trailhead and walking the extra mileage to the Snowgrass TH.  Secondly, when there's a fire ban, there's a good reason for it.  We saw multiple people with illegal campfires, mostly near Goat Lake, which was really disappointing.  Fire season in WA was terrible this year, with multiple wildfires over 20,000 acres each.  It's pretty simple: just don't be a dick, and follow the rules people who are more informed than you set. You won't die from lack of a campfire.   

While I was at Old Snowy, Shaun was hiking to another lake around White Pass to do some fishing with Birch.  We have passed this lake several times but never fished it because it seemed crowded, and we were always on our way somewhere else, but with nowhere else to go this time, Shaun gave it a shot and found some really nice cutthroat and cuttbow hybrids, so the next weekend, he was a good sport to return so I could have a go at some big fish.  We didn't catch many, but they were a good size for a mountain lake.  For a weekend, it wasn't too busy, aside form the one guy who was also fishing and decided to fish closer to us than he should have.  People can be really dumb, but he was nice and also caught a few good fish.  We just prefer space, but when it's a weekend, and the Jerrys are out, you have to make do.  We decided to call it a day as we were tired of sharing, so we turned our attention to picking huckleberries and blueberries on our way back to the car.  I have a patient in their 90's who can no longer go on walks in the mountains, so I had a special delivery of freshly picked berries for them during their next session.  

There is another lake which shall not be named that we had tried to visit in the past only to get turned around by fading daylight. Since it is a full bushwhack to access, you really have to pay attention and stick to your turnaround times.  It was finally time to give it another shot, so we woke early and headed to the turnout where we could access the creek drainage that would take us to the lake, albeit straight up the side of a mountain.  We felt optimistic given we started hiking early and had plenty of time, but after about an hour, we realized we had made a fatal error.  We had ascended the wrong creek drainage!  Finally topping out on the ridge, we knew the lake was below us, but the squished together contour lines on the map did not look promising (usually means steep), and to our dismay, we were very much cliffed out with no safe way down to the lake.  We were both so angry at ourselves for being careless and for not catching our mistake earlier.  We found another creek drainage/avalanche chute and followed that down as our way up was not a safe descent given the loose footing and high consequence terrain.  I am confident saying where we were hadn't seen a human in some time, if ever, so that part was kind of cool, even if we did ultimately fail to achieve our objective.  

The next week, I took a chance on a little known/trafficked lake also near White Pass, intent to see if it also held big fish.  It is kind of a mystery to me how few people know about it as it seems to be hiding in plain sight, but their loss is my gain.  I started off on the PCT, an easy grade at first, before climbing switchbacks for about 3/4 of a mile until it leveled out at a small lake that didn't look very fishy but had been stocked in the past.  I scoped it for a few minutes but felt the access was not ideal and decided to push on to the next lake.  Finding the faint footpath, I walked through thick brush, ladened with the morning's dew which soaked through my shorts, socks, and shoes.  Once at the lake, I was pleased to see no signs of people, and I made my way around the lake to a rocky point where there was a discernible ledge that looked to hold fish.  It was cloudy and overcast and not very warm, and I didn't see much bug activity happening.  I watched carefully, looking for signs of life, when I saw a couple of very sizable darts moving through the water, indicative of a cruising fish, just below the surface.  I decided to throw a white streamer to see if I could get one of those fish to chase.  Casting as far as I could toward the deeper water, I let the fly sit for a few seconds to sink below the surface before stripping the the fly toward the shelf where I thought fish would be cruising.  Sure enough, as the fly approached the shelf, a fish yanked it really hard.  Instantly I could see (and feel) that it was a large fish.  I worked it to the shallows and thrust my net forward and landed a beautiful cutthroat.  It barely fit in my net.  The shallow water was warm, so I didn't spend much time taking pictures, before releasing it back to the depths.  I decided it was a good time to eat lunch, so I sat and shared my PB sandwich with Birch and watched for more fish.  I saw a few more darts but also started to see some isolated rises, so I decided to put on a dry fly and see if I could coax another take.  I went with the old reliable for high lakes, a black elk hair caddis, and after a few casts, another cutthroat came up and nailed it.  This one was smaller than the first but still a more than respectable size for a lake this small.  I got a better photo of it as it was more colorful, and soon it, too was back into the sheltered dark water.  With some showers moving in and potential for thunderstorms in an area that already had several lightning caused fires nearby, I decided I was content with my catches and a day of solitude with the pup, so we headed home with some helpful intel on this lake. 

Perhaps buoyed by recent lake successes, we felt motivated to give our nemesis lake another try, this time ascending the correct drainage.  We found remnants of some user trails and some markers that were accurate about 50% of the time.  Eventually, we just decided to tackle the last quarter mile by climbing up the creek bed, which of course when straight up but did terminate at the lake's outlet.  It was a bit surreal to finally reach this place, its emerald waters glistening underneath a sunny, cloudless sky devoid of even a slight breeze.  If we were hiking only, the weather would have been perfect, but when fishing, a few clouds and a light wind can work in your favor.  Since we can't control the weather, we had to press on and give it a shot.  We saw a couple of rises, conveniently out in the middle of the lake, but otherwise, there was not much happening.  After a couple of hours, Shaun caught about an eight inch golden trout, which gave me hope we would be able to find a few more.  Nope.  We fished all day.  Hard.  We saw multiple profuse hatches come and go with no rising fish.  I even launched my packraft and explored the entire lake.  Nothing.  Some days are just like that, especially with golden trout who are notoriously spooky, so the weather definitely did us no favors.  I was pretty disappointed to not get my golden this year, but now we know exactly how to get back there, and while it is a little bit of type II fun, it's more worth it than not, and we will be back again.  

I had one more lake hike in me before summer officially gave way to fall, and it was the first lake I hiked to once my fly fishing journey began, also near White Pass.  I caught a big rainbow there on a blue damsel, and after that, hiking to lakes to fish became one of my favorite pastimes.   Unlike in the past, Birch and I hiked almost all the way around the lake and found a secluded beach with a dynamite campsite for the future.  This lake sees a fair amount of traffic for the area, even midweek, and on this day it was no exception, but we were far enough away that we still had our solitude despite voices echoing across the lake.  The fishing was a little tough because while I do like a little wind, I do not like a LOT of wind.  The wildfires in the area were creating their own weather, and while we had clear skies, there was a hint of smoke in the air, and the winds were all over the place.  I managed to find a few fish, the nicest rainbow coming just as I was about to lose my patience with the wind.  At that point, we decided to call it a day and head home.  

All in all, not the summer hiking season I hoped for, but I did check off a big goal in Old Snowy and we caught some nice fish.  Luckily there's always next year, and I have some big plans.  Stay tuned!