A Martin Photo: August 2021

Every year for Shaun's spring break, we head east, to "the West", taking advantage of a drastically shrinking shoulder season to enjoy Montana, Idaho, and Wyoming before the tourist crowds descend. This year, however, we would be bringing our raft along, intent on floating the Henry's Fork, as well as wade fishing the Madison, and hitting up a spring creek in the Livingston, MT area. We rented a cozy but comfortable two bedroom cabin in West Yellowstone that looked to be a perfect base camp location for all of our activities except the spring creek in Livingston, but we were willing to sacrifice some driving distance for the coveted scenery of the West Yellowstone area.

Big Sky Brewery hang

As I've mentioned in prior posts, we've developed a penchant recently for taking our time on the drive out, knowing if we exhaust ourselves early, we'll suffer for it on the tail end of our travels. We stopped over for a night in Missoula and had our customary Cracker Barrel dinner before making our way eastward to West Yellowstone the following morning. Because we couldn't check in until after 4:00, we decided to fish for a few hours in Rock Creek, despite knowing the water was high and not exactly ideal clarity. After striking out in a few places, we decided to head toward the Madison despite the fact the weather was calling for wind gusts in the 40's. If you've spent any amount of time in Montana, you know the best way to check the weather is to go outside, so spurning the advice of the weather report, we aimed to fish the late afternoon on the famed section of river just outside of Cameron. Being Easter Sunday, we weren't sure what to expect in terms of crowds, but we at least knew the water would be in good shape. We pulled up to the access site at Raynold's, which is usually crawling with cars and a real breakfast club cast of anglers- the local, the cliche, the originals, and the newbies. We were taken aback by two things: one, there were only two other cars, neither appeared to belong to anyone fishing, and two, the weather was amazing. A few breezy gusts came and went but nothing like what was predicted, and the later afternoon sun cast warming glow across just the right spots in the river. We agreed we'd fish as long as the weather held or until our stomachs betrayed us, whichever came first.

We moved to a familiar run we have fished many times in the past, still in disbelief over our fortunes. It wasn't long before I had a solid and forceful take on a black zebra midge. I could feel it was a decent fish, and when I finally coaxed it into the net, I was not disappointed. A brightly colored buck of a rainbow was my first foray into Montana fishing for the week. Other fish came soon after, and after catching a few each, our rumbling stomachs let us know it was indeed time to grab a pizza to go and head for the cabin.

Heading to the spot

Fishing dog

Never trust the weather forecast

Beautiful fish on the Madison

Beautiful scenery as well

Ready for the next day

The weather looked bleak for Monday, but we elected to go out and explore some unfamiliar sections of river in hopes of finding some other promising water. Driving across a bridge and along some national forest land, we found a nice run that was a little past my wade grade, but worked fine for Shaun. He almost instantly hooked up with a screamer of a trout that unfortunately wriggled its way off the hook and back into the riffle downstream. Losing a large fish is bad, but following it by catching a whitefish of any size is salt in the wound. The weather continued to deteriorate, dropping into the low 30's, the rain now snow, and we elected to head out mid afternoon so we could warm up, rest up, and prepare for the long drive the next morning to Livingston and the spring creek.

Making the best of the weather

Eye candy

Over it

Neighborhood full of Aspen trees

Welcome

Resting Birch face

We woke early to several unexpected inches of snow on the truck and on the roads, making an already long drive even longer. We battled some traffic but arrived at the creek just after check in time. This spring creek is an adjacent tributary of the mighty Yellowstone River and sits on private property. You pay the landowner a rod fee and can fish all day on their property. This particular creek offered 3 miles of fishing, capped at 16 people for the whole day. We hardly saw any of the other people fishing, as the creek was broken up nicely to give each group plenty of space to explore, and most people come to a spring creek for some solitude anyhow (at least this time of year- during tourist season, I doubt that is the case, more on that in a future post). The snow had since stopped, but it was still cool with a breeze, and while that seems less than optimal, the conditions were actually quite prime. We found a few pools containing pods of cruising fish but couldn't get any takes on our flies. We moved around the river a bit, hiking to some water with more current and structure where we each caught a small trout- on the board, but not exactly what we came here for, so we kept moving. We found a stretch of water that looked intriguing, though neither of us knew what to expect. Shaun fished through part of the run first, and then it was my turn. Just off a riffle and into a small eddy, I drifted my wet fly and hooked a nice sized rainbow, which I was able to get to the net. Then another, and another, and another. Sight fishing to big cruisers with wet flies. Beautiful blue cheeked browns and chunky red sided rainbows. I even saw a trio of Sandhill Cranes on their migration across Montana. Seemingly elegant, they shatter that illusion with every maddening squawk. We fished until dusk when the wary whitetail started to emerge and the bald eagles perched high in the trees. The weather, having done a full 180 blessed us with a stunning golden hour and sunset.

The Yellowstone is just over the bank from the spring creek

Shaun getting on the board

Watch that first step

Dropped all his flies, now in recovery mode

Fine scenery

First larger fish, looks to have tangled with a bird of prey or two

Big brown

Another colorful rainbow

This dog will sleep anywhere

Finally a brown for me

Sandhill cranes

More naps

Some blue skies peeking over the Yellowstone

Late in the day

Took a few minutes to really absorb the scenery

Geese swimming toward the horizon

Spectacular day

We woke the next morning to frost, again, but thankfully no new snow. We readied the raft and headed toward our launch point on the Henry's Fork, near Warm River. We had read reports the boat ramp was cleared of snow, and it was, until it had snowed almost every day for a week, requiring us to improvise and fully realize the wonderful versatility of the Flycraft. Scooting it across the snow, we easily slipped down the ramp, and we were off. Only one other boat had launched, and they were anchored up fishing the first visible run. We floated downstream, also anchored up, and had an immediate frenzy of action. One massive fish took off on a mammoth run downstream before breaking off the fly, one crossed us up and broke off the fly on one of the oars, and of course, the one we landed was a foul hooked whitefish. Sizable but still a disappointment when we knew the others were trout. We continued on to another run where we could anchor the boat and both get out and fish. Shaun hooked into a nice rainbow, and I grabbed the net from the boat and headed downstream to help him land it. Lunging forward, I felt my boot slip on a rock and not catch footing, so down I went, water into my waders, all the way down to my feet. I netted the fish in water up to my neck- I was not going to let that fish go after Shaun has been rowing my ass downriver for a couple of miles already. I handed him the net and tried to compose myself, all the while thinking, it's 45 degrees, and I'm soaking wet. Stripping down to undergarments, I dried myself with the boat towel and then put on my light synthetic insulation layer (with no shirt underneath- grosss!) paired with the gym shorts Shaun wears over his insulated tights. I was making quite the statement, but coupled with the warm winter sun, this patchwork ensemble would keep me dry enough. We caught a few more fish and then hit a less active portion of the river. We saw plenty of fish but couldn't really figure out what strategy to employ. It was an enjoyable float nonetheless, and we saw numerous eagles, osprey, and signs of moose.

Very on brand for Idaho... you're on your own (not a bad thing)

Birch refused sled dog duty

Those peaceful moments before I fell in and flooded my waders

Birch has to inspect each fish

I'll allow it

Had solitude the whole day

Nap mode

Pulling over to fish another run

The sunshine was a welcome treat

I'm shirtless under that jacket- literally so uncomfortable with wet skin under a puffer

Juvenile bald eagle eavesdropping

Top notch shuttle service from Yellow Sally Girls

Flooding my waders wasn't the only consequence of falling in

A welcome sight after a long day

Cute little forest friend

Later that evening while relaxing in the living room, a curious fox made its way on to the property, and I was able to watch it for a few minutes from the window before it hastily retreated out of our sight.

The next day we fished the Madison at Three Dollar Bridge until a full on hail and snow storm ran us off the water but not before we landed several quality rainbows in just about one of the most picturesque settings you could imagine. This is where Birch's unquenchable curiosity for trout really blossomed. Because we were the only ones around, he was able to roam off leash, always staying close to us, even when the river zoomies kicked in. Each time we landed a fish, he was right there to stick his speckled nose in the net to investigate. Splashing through shallow pools, climbing up on slippery rocks, and hopping from bank to boulder, he was so interested in the squirmy, slimy creature that captivated the attention of his humans to this degree.

Fishing with my boys

The only time to fish here anymore is when it's too cold for everyone else

Still great fish to be had

Birch going in for a closer look

Spectacular views of the Madison Range

Always a Birch lurking over my shoulder

Camera shy

Scenery on the drive home (taken with 600 mm zoom lens and from the truck)

Tired boy

Reluctantly, we packed up and headed out the next morning. Our original intent was to return the way we came, but as we were so close, we decided to spend the last day and a half of our vacation in one of my favorite places- Jackson, WY. We rented a small cabin in town and spent the day driving around viewing moose, bison, deer, basically all critters except for bears. As customary, we got pizza from Pinky G's and made plans to finally watch the sunrise from Mormon Row, a place I've always wanted to photograph but never wanted to deal with the annoying photography brigade. Nine degree temperatures do wonders for crowd control. We had total solitude for the near duration of the sunrise, aside from the coyote choir and one lone tourist who also braved the frigid temps for a few sunrise shots. The sunrise was nothing special, but it was memorable.