La Niña in Montana April 2023

 In an unreal snow year, we kept to our yearly tradition of heading to Montana during Shaun's spring break at the beginning of April.  After an uneventful day of travel on Saturday and our customary chicken n dumplins from Cracker Barrel, we woke to several inches of snow on the ground in Missoula.  Initially we planned to fish a half day on the Madison before heading over to Paradise Valley, but with some icy conditions and several passes to negotiate, we decided to take it slow and avoid any excessive risk.  We arrived into Livingston, grabbed some groceries, and then checked into our cabin on ten acres with panoramic views of the Absaroka range.  

Digging holes at sunset

View from the back deck

Sunset boy

 We had booked two consecutive days on our favorite spring creek and in the lead-up to the trip, we knew the forecast was going to be challenging.  Not only was it a major snow year in many parts of Montana, there was also a major cold snap moving through the area bringing blustery winds and blowing snow.  We arrived the next morning at 9:30 am to check-in and survey our options.  The creek books out 16 rods each day, but it was quite clear we weren't dealing with a full house.  Initially, we had cloudless, sunny skies and no wind, not exactly an ideal setting on a spring creek.  We explored some new areas where we found and spooked a lot of fish despite our best attempts at stealth.  Post-holing along a snowy river bank with an exuberant herding dog surely didn't help.  Nevertheless, we moved on to one of our old familiar zones where I finally caught a rainbow in a fishy riffle.  Moving closer to the property boundary and the lake area of the creek, Shaun found a quick fish, and then we started to see fish consistently rising.  As I switched over to a tiny midge pattern, the winds began howling and literally did not stop.  Shaun managed to hook into the biggest brown trout I've ever seen, but 6x tippet was no match, and it was off, thundering into the deep unimpeded after an acrobatic leap.  We eventually had to seek shelter from the wind, so it was back to the truck for some hot chocolate.  The wind finally abated, and we thawed enough to give it another go, so we traipsed back down to our favorite spot. I put a cast into my own personal money hole and sure enough, a nice rainbow came up and took me for a ride.  With Shaun's assistance, we managed to get it to the net.  It was a beautiful fish- not the largest we've caught there, but considering the conditions, certainly one I was extremely proud of.  After a quick pic, a tail slap on the water surface as its own form of petty revenge, and the fish was back under it's mossy cover.  We fished on throughout the day but as the wind died down, so did the fishing, and we headed back to the house at dusk, starving yet satisfied.  

Cold but sunny start to the day

Our favorite spot on the creek

Fishing on frozen islands

Snow boy

Boy playing in some snow

Heading back into the wind

Hard fought bow

Another hard fought bow

Creek guardian

Dog tired

The next morning was even colder, blustery with snow showers.  We were able to bypass the check-in process given we were on day two at the creek.  We showed up mid morning as it was clear we weren't going to be battling sunny skies.  We went to the zone we first tried the day before, where we spooked many fish.  We fished the riffle having seen periodic rises and given our previous morning's intel.  The weather was absolutely bonkers.  Windy, snowy, frigid.  One of the ladies working at a local fly shop told us to keep midges handy as there were pretty consistent hatches daily. Still, the thought of catching fish off dries on a day like today seemed improbable, mostly because casting was impossible, and the flat light was worse, making strikes almost imperceptible.  We fished mostly small nymphs under Paulsa indicators as we weren't seeing much of a hatch.  Satisfied with fooling a couple of fish even though they got off, I needed to take a break.  My hands, long past numb, were a shade of red I didn't recognize, and my feet were surely frozen.  I decided to take Birch and seek respite in the warming hut near where we parked.  As I peaked across the river, I spied two other people and a dog inside, so it was to the truck for Birch.  It's just easier to avoid than manage his reactivity sometimes.  I stepped into the hut, where I was immediately assaulted by an elderly but exuberant Labrador.  Like a good girl, she sat when told, and I rewarded her with one of Birch's bribery treats.  I sat and talked with her owners for a while by the fire while sipping my hot chocolate.  Shaun continued to labor in the difficult conditions where he apparently caught two fish while I was warming.  No pics of course because it's Shaun, though on this day I couldn't blame him.  After about half an hour, I summoned the courage to return to the creek, and grabbing the dog and reactivating my hand warmers, we trudged through the wind drifted snow.  By the time I arrived, we were seeing numerous aggressive rises, prodigious even.  We decided to start throwing the dry midges.  There were so many fish rising and visibility was still subpar, so we were having difficulty detecting strikes.  Often we were setting a hook to nothing, but it's better to set than not.  I managed two fish during the hatch, and I braved the weather for one quick pic just as documentation of this remarkable experience.  The hatch was profuse, and the fish behavior during the feeding frenzy was exceptional.  We had no chances of lasting till dusk, but we counted ourselves privileged to fish through that hatch and find some success.  A hot shower followed by a hot meal, and we were extremely grateful for the two days we had. 

Quite a different look from the day before

Cold and windy

Proof we caught something and also the last pic we took for the day

Before heading to Island Park, for the next phase of our trip, we decided to drive up into the park for the day to do some sightseeing and wildlife watching.  The weather was quite cold, but the roads were in good shape, so after watching the sun rise from our cabin, we headed south toward the Gardner entrance to Yellowstone.  This was our first opportunity to see the remnants of the catastrophic flooding that forced temporary closure of the park and cut off much of that region of Montana from necessary services and throughways.  The road had been rerouted, traversing the terrain via numerous switchbacks in the road before reaching Mammoth Springs.  Per usual, we saw numerous elk and pronghorn as we headed toward Lamar Valley.  As we got closer to the valley, we started seeing bison everywhere.  Walking, napping, scrapping, just doing bison things.  We were hoping to see some wolves but had to settle for several coyotes instead.  We saw one walking really closely to the road and noticed it was limping, a sobering reminder of the harsh reality of life in Yellowstone for its four legged residents.  Satisfied with our sightings and eager to get on our way to Island Park, we departed Lamar Valley just before lunch.  On the way out, we spotted a congregate of people, many with scopes, looking out over a seemingly nondescript landscape.  Curious, we pulled into the turnout and began to listen to conversations for cues of what we were supposed to be watching.  We soon learned these locals had been watching a bear den for weeks waiting for the mother to emerge.  They told us she had poked her head out a few times allowing them to glimpse the sleepy cubs inside through their high powered spotting scopes.  We later learned there had been a wolf pack circling the den several times, but this mother was an expert. The entrance to the den was quite small and craftily executed on the hillside that was in no way conducive to wolf raids.  I had my 600 mm zoom lens which was not as good as the spotting scope, but when a gasp rose from the crowd, I fired off a couple of shots anyway in hopes I could see something.  Looking on my rear screen and zooming in 4x, I saw the outline of a bear paw.  Mama was doing a big stretch in the den, and her paw was thrust toward the den's opening.  We stayed a bit longer, our eyes now adjusted to the distance and lighting.  As the wildlife tours began to roll in, we decided it was time to hit the road.  

Sunrise before heading to the park

Pronghorn

Bison in the snow

A wounded coyote (back right leg)

Bear den

The amount of snow still holding in the West Yellowstone and surrounding areas including Island Park was remarkable.  The snowdrifts on the highway were higher than our truck, and as we wound through the neighborhoods looking for our rental we started to doubt the feasibility of launching our raft anywhere in that area.  We have launched from snowy launches before, but this was another league.  Finally locating our rental (the street signs were obscured by snowbanks in some cases), we marveled at the size of the icicles hanging from the roof.  It created a fortress-like look.  We climbed the stairs that had been carved into the snow and slid our way through the front door as the sun had created a melt-refreeze entryway. The  cabin had nice windows for natural light, but the snow was halfway up the windows, giving it a dark, cozy feel.  We settled in and started some dinner and planning for the next day.  Pretty much fishing anywhere around Island Park was out due to access issues, so we decided we would focus on the Madison for while there was snow, the access was still really good all things considered.  

Welp

A Birch among the Aspen trees

Cool, cool

Yep

Great naps

With frigid temperatures, we had no need to rush in the morning, so we had a nice, relaxing breakfast before heading toward the river mid-morning.  Fishing during the week, in the snow, and walking a little ways will provide all the solitude you need on the Madison in early April, and the fishing is usually really consistent.  This time was no different as we caught several fish at Three Dollar Bridge on various nymphs.  After breaking for lunch, we headed toward Raynolds Pass where we fished the rest of the afternoon catching several fish including a nice brown for me before returning to the cabin for some spaghetti and meatballs.

Heading down to the river

Always great views

My boys

On the board

Majestic

Pupsicle

Working the seam

Fishing some pocket water

Nice find

Fish inspector

Ceremonial brown trout cigar

Fish inspector working hard

And on break

This again

Nothing beats spaghetti, meatballs, and apple juice

Having had success the prior evening at Raynolds, we headed there straight away in the morning, watching a few guys catch fish in our lucky run as we crossed the bridge.  Bummed it was occupied, we resolved to walk higher upstream and fish where we could.  To our delight, as we started walking across the bridge to drop down to the river, they headed downstream and left.  Despite seeing them catch a couple of fish, we decided to fish that stretch anyway.  We caught tons of fish there.  Rather than go to a new spot, we decided to call it a day and enjoy some down time in the cabin as the next day we would be heading out to make our way home.  

Last full day

Shaun working the run

Hitting some pocket water

More pockets

Taking a break to warm the toes

It never feels as cold when you're catching fish

Dark colored rainbow

Buddy

After packing the truck and saying goodbye to Island Park, we drove along the Lower Madison making our way toward Missoula once again.  We picked a couple of new spots to fish and got into a whitefish alley, pulling in fish after fish.  I think we maybe caught one or two rainbows, and the rest were whitefish. While they are important indicators of a healthy river, they fight like a wet towel and smell terrible, so after an hour or so, we decided our hands smelled bad enough, and we continued toward Missoula.  Since we got in early, we were able to go to bed early, rise early, and make it home mid-afternoon, satisfied with another great week in Montana. 

Majestic poops

Fishing the lower Madison

Boat ramp boys

Hotel nap before heading home