Our spring break trip to Montana last year was probably the fishiest trip we've taken, aside from maybe Argentina a few years ago, so we had no expectation of duplicating that success. We were just looking forward to getting away, and the forecast looked promising for some warm weather, so we were both packed by Wednesday night in anticipation of leaving Friday after work. Usually we drive all the way to Missoula, but we got out a little later than hoped, so we stopped off in CDA instead. Saturday we drove the rest of the way to Paradise Valley, making a stop for groceries and also picking up some staple flies for our Spring Creek days on Sunday and Monday. When we arrived to the cabin, the weather was absolutely delightful- like doors and windows open delightful. There was little to no breeze, and we cooked up some burgers, including enough leftovers for the next couple of nights. Birch got his customary post travel bully stick, and we all enjoyed a contented evening, watching the sun drop in the sky and projecting a soothing alpenglow onto the Absarokas.
The forecast predicted sunny and warm days with few, if any, clouds. Our past several trips to the creek have seen similar weather, which can make for tough fishing for clever, wary trout in crystal clear water, but regardless, we checked in around 8:30 AM on a cold, clear, windless morning. Taking the familiar path to our favorite spot, we paused to enjoy the scenery and watch for rising fish. After stopping to take a few pictures, Shaun was pretty far ahead of me, when I saw a couple of fish rise. I texted, letting him know I was seeing rising fish, and he let me know he was seeing the same. Usually we fish together, one of us in the water and the other supervising the dog, but today, since we were the first ones there, we decided to try our luck in our respective stretches of the stream. The risers I had seen had since gone mostly dormant, so I switched from a dry fly to a double nymph setup, including my lucky 0.99 fly that landed me the large brown trout on the last day of 2025. Shaun texted he had just caught a nice rainbow, and shortly after I hooked up with a nice fish that shook loose from the hook. Undeterred, I fished on and landed a healthy rainbow with some huge teeth. Luckily the hook came out quickly, and I didn't have to worry about those teeth taking a chunk out of my fingers. It has happened many times before. I worked my way downstream toward Shaun, and about 20 minutes later I had another nice rainbow in the net. We joined up and fished together until lunch, each hooking several fish but not landing them. We enjoyed a leisurely outdoor lunch next to the creek, basking in the unseasonably warm sunshine.
Despite the warmer temps, post lunch we didn't really see a whole lot of surface activity or consistent hatches for that matter. We moved about the creek, trying a few different spots, hooking a fish or two each but not really seeing the same kind of action we experienced in the AM. Despite the pace slowing a bit, we continued to fish and explore the creek, taking in the scenery and soaking up the precious warmth. Some clouds moved in late afternoon, which we hoped might stir some blue winged olive hatches, but no luck, and after a few more hours, we decided to call it a day and head home for some leftover burgers. After dinner, we decided to stream a new six episode series on Max called DTF: St Louis. It definitely started weird and got weirder, but I'd say it's worth a watch.
Monday morning dawned crisp and cold with a layer of frost on Shaun's waders and boots he forgot to bring inside the night before. The sunrise was rather subdued, so it gave us time for a more leisurely breakfast before arriving at the creek around 9:00 am. Since we were able to get dressed at the cabin and our rods were mostly together, we were quickly on the water just before 9:30. I was making some adjustments to my setup while Shaun fished through our run first. Mid-morning he had picked up a nice rainbow on the same white nymph that was working so well the day prior. Our plan was to eat an early lunch and stay out the rest of the day, so we started making our way back toward the truck, but we passed so many fish, we just had to throw to them. I cast into a small but deep channel where we spied some rainbows holding. Watching from the bank, Shaun could see a chunky rainbow move laterally before floating toward the surface and taking my small nymph. When I set the hook, I knew it was a good fish, and boy was it hot. Run after run, upstream, downstream, before eventually trying not once but twice to twist itself free by diving into the clustered mosses. It's really kind of miraculous we were able to land it, but we did, and it was just a stunner of a fish. A great way to end our morning, and we were excited at the prospect of more fish in the afternoon. Well, as (un)luck would have it, the wind, which was predicted to be nil on this day, surprised us all and showed up with a vengeance. When you have strong, gusty winds, it's not favorable for hatches of these small mayflies and baetis. They may be hatching, but they're being blow all over the place and not usually on the water, which is where the fish find them. Of course there is still subsurface activity happening, and windy days can actually be quite productive, fishing wise. This was not one of those days. Casting was impossible, and there were white caps blowing on the inflow and outflow lakes that hold between the stream. We moved to other sections of the creek hoping to find some areas more sheltered from the wind, but it was harsh and unrelenting stream wide. We had seen several groups already call it a day, while a couple of intrepid souls toughed it out in miserable conditions. We agonized over our decision, knowing it was our last time on the creek for a while as our current summer plans do not have us coming back this year. Eventually we realized this was not a brief bout of wind, this was what was going to be happening the rest of the day, evening, and next day per the forecast, so we broke down our setups, changed out of our waders and headed back to the cabin, a bit dejected. We're used to going pretty full throttle at the spring creek on our trips, so it was strange to have several hours to just hang out and rest. At first it felt terrible, but you just have to accept that weather is weather, and you're either willing to deal with it, or you aren't. It wasn't serving us that day, so we decided to do something else. We relaxed around the cabin, watched some more DTF:StL, and prepared ourselves for our trip into the park the next day to look for wildlife.
Weary from little sleep, we decided to slow play the morning and head toward the park mid-day in time for the evening wildlife watching shift. Normally, I would prefer to be there the whole day, but that's really unfair to Birch because he has to stay in the car the whole time due to National Park regulations, which we support and follow diligently. We took him to an open area on the banks of the Yellowstone on our way toward Gardiner to let him run, play, dig, and do his business. Once he seemed worn out, we continued onward toward the park entrance. I was relieved to see my pass was still valid and I could avoid having to purchase the abomination that has Trump's stupid face on it. What a loser. Anyway, we passed several bison, pronghorn, and elk as we made the drive toward Tower Junction, where there had been some wolf and bear activity over the previous week. We typically go to Lamar Valley, but per our sources, it had been relatively quiet there, so we opted to try some new spots. We stopped at several pullouts to scan the hillsides with the binoculars and spotting scope and saw a few other vehicles doing the same thing. At one pullout, while giving my eyes a break from scanning through binoculars, a raven pair landed right next to me, and I snapped a quick picture with my phone and noticed they had bands on their legs. Apparently they were part of a really cool study on ravens and wolves. The gist is this: ravens leave their next and return every day, sometimes covering as many as 120 miles roundtrip in search of food. Also, they remember where wolves have executed kills in the past and fly to those places in search of food. It used to be believed they followed wolves, but through this study, researchers realized the ravens are often already there, waiting. Magical creatures.
Eventually we parked for a sustained period at a pullout with another vehicle who had a personalized plate with the word grizzly on it. Now it could have been a proud University of Montana parent, but we banked on it being a fellow enthusiast, and it turned out we were right. This person had been out the day before and was chatting with some of the tour guides they had come to know over the years and was given some tips on the location of a sow grizzly and a second year cub. Sure enough, this person had spotted them, about five miles away, via their scope. Shaun quickly set up, and before long, he also had the pair sighted as well. While the cub was a second year cub, it was dwarfed next to mom. We watched them graze, moving closer and then further apart. Wind whipping and a restless doggy in the back cab of the truck, we decided to wind down for the night as tomorrow was getaway day to West Yellowstone and the Madison River. We finished DTF: St Louis before heading to bed. A bizarre, dark comedy, but very clever and well done. No Way, José! (IYKYK)
The next morning, we were of course up early, but since we had organized most of our packing the night before, we were in no hurry and enjoyed the last of our bacon, oatmeal, and bagels before completing the check-out tasks for the cabin and heading toward the Madison River. We drove along the lower Madison before stopping for gas and a quick fly shop stop in Ennis. The guy working in the shop gave us some great suggestions to explore new-to-us water in the next three days, but for today, it was straight to one of our favorite runs. We enjoyed a tailgate lunch before walking a quarter mile to our spot. Shaun jumped in the run first and caught a nice rainbow pretty quickly, and shortly after I took my turn, I had a decent brown in the net. Sadly, our first brown to net of the trip (we each lost at least one at the spring creek). Looking for a change of scenery, we headed to another, typically crowded spot, but given it was Wednesday, we were pleased to see evidence of few people in the parking lot, so we made our way downstream past some nice pocket water to a flat where we catch fish every time. This was no exception. I caught an average rainbow or two, followed by the biggest whitefish I've ever caught on the Madison. Shaun also caught a few fish, which of course Birch dutifully inspected.
As evening approached, we headed to our token evening spot where Shaun quickly got into a nice brown trout and I got into yet another rainbow. Needing to check into our next cabin and lacking dinner plans, we decided to head out for the day with plans to return to the same spot in the AM. Nothing had changed at the cabin, which is a comfort to both of us. Well, there was one notable difference. There was absolutely no snow. A welcome shower, some dinner, and a post river beer were all we needed to drift into a peaceful slumber.
Spring mornings still dawn quite cold, which gives us time to pause for breakfast, leaving for the river around 9:15. We weren't sure what to expect in terms of crowds, but luckily, our spot was open, so we made the 15 minute walk from the car and got right to work! Shaun got into a toothy buck of a rainbow straight away. He barely even had time to get his cigar going. After each catching a few fish out of that spot, we decided it was time to move along so another angler could have a go there (which oddly enough, a lot of people skip right over it or fish it incorrectly). We decided to head upriver and fish some pocket water, which is a nice change from fishing longer runs and flats. Make a few casts, get the fly down among the boulders, and if nothing happens, move to the next pocket. I hooked up with another brown trout just as my fly swung toward a boulder at the tail end of the short run. We fished a few more pockets before deciding we were ready to eat some lunch and hit another spot. On the walk back to the car, Birch got the "tracking a field mouse" zoomies and crashed through some bushes. When he emerged on the other side he was covered with hundreds of small burs lodged at various depths in his abundant fur. He was quite the mess, so in addition to having a quick lunch, we spent a few minutes removing the most uncomfortable ones around his face, ears, and ahem, elsewhere. We headed downriver to our first spot from the day prior, caught a few fish, missed a few more and then headed back toward Ennis to scout out our morning objective for the next day. We had so much luck upriver, we wanted to be sure this new stretch was worth it, which after walking along the trail for a few minutes, we could see it definitely was. We headed back to town and grabbed a pizza to take home (read: eat half of it in the truck).
Because our objective the next morning involved a longer drive to the access point and least a 30 minute walk from there, we were out the door a little earlier. The walk along the access trail was so beautiful and much different character than where we typically fish on the Madison. Navigating narrow threads to small islands and back to larger islands with bigger water, Birch got lots of swimming and waiting practice. We also saw so many osprey, bald eagles, kingfishers, red-winged blackbirds, ducks, geese, and even pelicans. At times it was hard for me to concentrate because I was so enamored with the scenery and sounds. Shaun caught the first fish of the day, a nice brown. I walked downstream and caught a nice rainbow in a shallow riffle before hooking and losing an absolute monster of a brown trout. It was a real heartbreaker, but I was thankful to see it jump and twist in the air because at least we both saw its size and fighting brilliance. Earlier in the trip I missed another massive brown, owing to its pure brute strength and savvy. It was a real screamer as well. It's always tough to lose a large fish, but honestly, it bothers me way less than it used to. It's just part of it, and sometimes you catch them! We walked back to the bank where Birch was waiting impatiently for his snack (kibble) and his turkey bites (from our sandwiches). Traversing downstream further, island hopping, we found more promising water and each caught a good fish out of a short run, mine a rainbow and Shaun's a brown. As he fished downstream I watched an osprey repeatedly dive-bomb and eagle, marveling at its closing speed and tenacity despite the obvious size discrepancy between the two magnificent raptors. Continuing downstream, we caught a couple of more fish in some short runs, stumbled upon a pelican nest, which we avoided, and polished off the slices of pound cake I packed in as a surprise. It was mid afternoon now, and our plan was to walk out and finish up our Friday night at our lucky Friday night hole, which was also our lucky hole the morning prior and two nights before that. We chatted with two nice college age guys who were very interested in Birch and his fishing habits. As they drove off to fish elsewhere, Shaun and I had a cold, crisp river beer and some popcorn before shoving off for the 45 minute drive to our last spot of the trip.
When we pulled up to the lot, we saw a couple just upstream of our spot, hoping they were working upstream and not down. I had to make some changes to my gear, so I sent Shaun ahead of me to see if he could snag the hole. The weather that day had been picture perfect, but now the wind was kicking up and rain seemed certain, so I threw on my rain jacket before gathering my rods, bag, net, and dog. I passed the friendly couple on their way out, the rain threatening to drop on us all at any minute. When I reached Shaun, he told me he ripped a big rainbow out of the run on his first cast, so he had me jump in and try my luck. Just as I did, the rain came in large, frigid droplets that seemed just a step down from hail, blowing back into my face thanks to the increasingly robust wind. Luckily the wind was blowing in an advantageous direction for my casting, and I was able to bomb a few out to the middle of the river and had an immediate yank. Playing it quickly, I had a nice rainbow in the net. We continued alternating for the next half hour, both catching a fish each time we stepped into the run. The rain had finally stopped, but the fishing remained active if not a bit chaotic. I don't even know how many fish we caught, but it was a lot. We both had to laugh at our fortune. Braving the weather and showing patience has paid off for us in this spot many times over. Eventually, we elected to call it a trip with each of us catching a clutch fish on our final casts.
We drove home the next morning, stopping a few times to let Birch run and play and stretch all of our legs. This was another fantastic trip with April quickly becoming my favorite fishing month. I've been off social media for a month or so and have really been focusing on being present in my surroundings. It's funny, I took far fewer pictures this time than usual, especially of the fish. I don't know if it's a byproduct of not posting stories or pics for the 'gram, but I didn't hate it. Until next time, thank you, Montana!
