East Rosebud, August 31, 2008. Air temp 65 degrees. Approx 250cfs. Cool, cloudy, calm. Took the whole family out for some hopper fishing. We were all anxious to hit the water, and it took a while to develop the patience to wait that extra 2 seconds after the take before we started landing fish. All browns, and they were all pretty much about 14 inches. I love the Rainey's hoppers for the strike they get, but they do seem harder to get a good solid hook set with. In contrast, a clod hopper gets a hookup 9 times out of 10. The weather was a tad on the cool side, but the view was spectacular, the fishing steady, the water clear as gin, and wildlife abundant. There isn't a better way to spend a Sunday afternoon. The wife took tons of pics, and even tried a few casts herself. She was afraid she might hook a fish, so she quit... she believes fish not only feel pain, but suffer emotionally from the trauma of being fooled and/or caught, so up until today she hasn't cared to pick up a rod. Hopefully, that may change in time. Had hoped to spray some noxious weeds on Rock Creek Monday and try my luck there, but the steady heavy rain put a damper on that, but hope to try again later in the week.

Slideshow coming soon. Great trip. Lots of fish. Lots of bears. Lots of fun!

Bighorn River, August 4, 2008. Air temp 75 degrees, Water temp 62 degrees. Calm, overcast. Got an invite from Bob Krumm to float the river with a friend of his, David, from Maine. David's son, fiance and yellow lab Trout joined us in a rental boat. Bob had been braggin' up the hopper fishing in the lower river, so we all hooked up at Bighorn Access and launched about 9am. Bob let me take oars, and the fish were on the hoppers right away. Any good cast about an inch off the bank near the grass got a rise. Bob used a X-Hopper type pattern, and David switched between a Rainey's and an X-Hopper. After a fewl miles, Bob took the oars, and the action continued. I was snakebit, and was getting regular hookups, but every fish would throw the hook when they approached the net. After an hour of this, it became a little frustrating. We stopped for lunch at Turtle Rock, where we feasted on lobster, fresh corn on the cob, cantalope, apples, grapes, and macaroni salad. Talk about raising the bar for shore lunches! My snakebite was cured when we left the lunch site and parked in a small sidechannel that is often ignored. The fish in there weren't taking hoppers, and after about 8 entire rig changes, I finally tried an beadhead MFG with a Rainbow Warrior dropper, and just started banging fish every cast. These were large fish, mostly rainbows, sitting off a shelf downstream of a very thin riffle. A couple were up in the riffles that couldn't have been more than six inches deep. I had my drp fly rod, and rigged up just like I'd done on the Missouri: No strike indicator, and the only weight was the beadhead top fly. A short cast, a quick strip to take out the slack, then watch and wait for the line to explode. God, that was fun. I'd still be there if the cooler had been in my boat. Hopper fishing continued to produce fish after that, but it wasn't long before the black caddis came on hard. I jumped back on teh oars for the rest of the day to let Bob fish some more. You could tell Bob was really enjoying getting some stick time. He works so much and so hard, and is so damn knowledgeable about the river. (He packs a small saw in the boat, and can be seen whacking down Russian Olives along the island berms). We found a few sweet spots with some big risers, and as the darkness came on, I'd hover the boat, and those two would pull a big fish out after a few casts. It was a very pleasant evening. We finally made the takeout right at dark. Great day, learned some new spots, and a few new tricks. David's accent and sense of humor kept us in stitches the whole day. Never heard Cheney's helicopters, and only saw a couple of boats all day. Stopped by Buster's on the way home and left a half dozen Corona's with him. Didn't get home until 11:15pm.

East Rosebud Creek, August 3, 2008, Air temp 82 degrees, Water temp 58 degrees, approx 350cfs. Sunny, calm. The eBud really dropped since the last visit. Everything is wadable once again. Despite the heavy runoff, not much changed. The fish were still in the usual places. I started just after lunch with a size 6 Rainey's Hopper, and finished the day with the same fly. The fish were really looking for hoppers, even the small fish. Two little fellas were approx 4 inches, not much bigger than my hopper. All browns, and never saw a rainbow all day. Didn't land anything of any size, the largest being about 13 inches. Saw once nice brown working the side of a rock, but after his first miss, I couldn't get him to come up again. We've had three black bears move in to the area and settle in. One is smaller, older sow with a single cub, the other a medium sized cinammon colored bear, and the last a rather enormous black. One or the other will often appear on the cabin deck, or up a tree, or working a bird feeder. Lots of sign down by the river, but I didn't bump in to one. With the griz spreading out, I'm wondering how long it'll be before they show up, which makes an afternoon on the creek a bit more exciting since your visibility is usually always less than about 50 yards. Oh well, it does tend to thin the crowds (not that that's a problem on the East Rosebud). Anyway, had a great day, and planded a good two dozen browns, which is a sman good day on the eBud. Looking forward to getting back after the Alaska trip.

Rock Creek, July 20, 2008. Air temp 88 degrees, water temp 52 degrees, approx 550cfs. The creek is still running high, but its clear. Its real tough to fish at the moment, as wading is damn treacherous. The high flows gave the creek a good scouring, and best off all, knocked a bunch of trees in to the creek, so I'm anxious to explore all the changes. I only had a couple of hours to fish, as I helped my brother in law run concessions at the Harley rodeo in Red Lodge. I had to do a lot of bushwhacking to even find a place to stand and cast, but like the eBud, once I found some resting areas, I found fish. As usual, the fish in Rock Creek love a Royal Wulff, and just about any decent drift through some holding water got a strike. Didn't find any big fish, and I suspect they're holding in some deeper stuff that I couldn't get to. But I was glad to see the fellas made it through the runoff. Landed seven fish in all, although I'm guessing I only made 30 casts in the two hours I was fishing. Like the EBud, another couple of days, and it'll be a lot easier to wade up and down the creek.

East Rosebud Creek, July 19, 2008. Air temp 80 degrees. The eBud is finally fishable, although flows are still way up, and wading is very difficult. Water is cold and clear, and bugs coming off everywhere, although no hoppers yet. I did see PMDs, Baetis, and Callibaetis. The number of large Callibaetis was surprising, as where I fish is about seven miles down from the lake. Mosquiotes were also out in full force, and in the time since I've owned the cabin, I'd not seen a skeeter until now. I suppose the great deal of moisture this year really brought them on. I only hope it doesn't hurt the hopper population. Fishing was good when I could find some water worth casting to. It was extremely tough to find water that wasn't ripping, but any spot that looked like a likely spot for trout to rest held fish. I started with a large tan Stimulator, but after seeing a few fish rise, look and refuse, I switched to a black Chernobyl and they were all over that. The first couple of fish were nice 13" browns. I also picked up two nice rainbows in a bit fast water. The browns were dead up against the bank. Another week, maybe two, will open up a lot more water, and I plan on being back there on Aug 2nd.

Bighorn River, July 13, 2008. Air temp 85 degrees, water temp 60 degrees, 6,225cfs. Floated Bighorn to Mallards again. This time was with a couple I've known for years. He's a rodbuilder, and she's an attorney and fly tier, both highly skilled at what they do, and great folks. The bad news is the lake turned over, leaving some color in the river along with a bunch of suspended colonialized algae that made fishing tough. Fishing was slow most of the day, although we hit a few spots where we found some fish and could keep the moss off our hooks for a few casts. The fish were all decent, healthy fish, just not a lot of 'em like the week before. We took RodBuilder's boat, an early 17 foot Clacka, and while it took a little getting used to, turned out to be a nice boat to row around the river, and had plenty of room for the three of us and Reiver, the black lab. Despite the paucity of fish, we had a great day and the weather cooperated nicely. Turned out the BuRec began dropping flows the next day, so our timing was perfect to have one last float with the water up.

Bighorn River, July 6, 2008. Air temp 90 degrees, Water temp 60 degrees, 6,225cfs. Calm, sunny. Floated Bighorn to Mallards with old friend and new guide BlackOtter. Saw a couple of driftboats and 3 jet boats all day, along with the game wardens who checked our licenses and PFDs. We were pretty much in to fish right away, and although the fishing wasn't lights out (which is very rare in the lower stretch), it was consistent. A pink soft hackle and an LBF seemed to be the best flies, although we did pick up a few on wire worms. In general, the fish were damn healthy and on the fat side, and full of fight. They were in the shallower water, although we didn't work the middle of the river much. The usual spots held fish, and some new spots created with the higher flows also held fish. It was a blast trying out some places that are normally high and dry. One side-channel produces a 3 -4 foot snake which we spotted drifting towards the boat. There was a few tense seconds until we determined it wasn't a pissed off rattler, and BlackOtter wisely drew the oar in to the boat as the snake was clearly intent on using the oar to gain access to our private parts. BTW, that side channel created a deep slow pool that held some damn nice fish. Other than the last mile or so, we caught fish pretty much all down the river. BlackOtter has not only kept his great ability to catch fish, but has refined it some, and has become and excellent guide. If you're ever in the need of services on the Bighorn, I highly, highly recommend you hook up with him. I'm not only in my praise, either. On our way home, his cell was beset with numerous calls from outfitters all looking to acquire his services this week! Thanks again, David, for the great float. Let's try and do the lower-lower next!

Bighorn River, June 25, 2008. Air temp 86 degrees, Water temp 48 degrees, 7,600cfs. Sunny, calm, gorgeous. Met Buster at St X around noon, stopped for ice and a shuttle, and launched from Afterbay around 1pm. There were two rigs in the parking lot and not a soul in sight. We'd see two other boats all friggin' day. What can be better than having the river to yourself, a cooler full of Coronas, perfect weather, and a bud that insists on rowing all day? We got in to fish right away, and they all came on the no bead LBF, which I had below a red wire worm. T.O. had suggested a wire worm with a large copper bead for a sex gland, so I didn't add additional weight. Fish didn't touch the worm but loved the LBF. First stop was Red Cliffs, and Buster hammered 'em using one of his own patterns, which I'll let him reveal, but suffice it to say its a black thread midge with ostrich herl. The LBF wasn't working for me all of a sudden, but then, I have trouble concentrating when I surrounded by so many large, visible fish. Once back in the boat, the LBF worked again. We explored a few new side channels and hit one that was just jam packed with fish, both trout and huge whitefish. I mean HUGE whitefish that easily went several pounds. One memorable moment came just above the rapids where by then we were well into the ice chest, and I had just cast and laid my rod down across the gunwales to retreive a fresh brew (with lime), when a very, very large brown jumped next to the boat, causing the usual "Whoa!". The ass end of my rod suddenly leapt in to the air, and I somehow managed to grab it before it departed the boat. The resulting clumsy late hook set broke the beast off, but the next cast landed another one. Fishing was great all the way down the river. A tan scud seemed to work best from 3 rivers on down. The water clarity remained quite good all the way to the takeout. A trip with Buster is always loads of fun. He knows so many spots on the river that hold fish that I've never known about. The amazing thing is he's prefectly content to catch a couple of fish and row all day, despite my best efforts to get him to take the front of the boat. Tomorrow, he's donating a trip to a returning vet, and my hat is off to him for his generosity. Thanks again, Buster!

Bighorn River, June 16, 2008. Air temp 75 degrees, Water temp 45 degrees, 8,700cfs. Sunny, winds calm, gorgeous day. Floated from A to B with Toolman and his friend Scott. A persistent rumor had been making the rounds that a dark olive scud was the pattern to have, and having tied up a few the night before, I started with a steel worm and an olive scud. We pushed off from the ramp at Afterbay, and I tossed my rig in the water while I dug in my pockets for some more split shot, and immediately hooked up. This was a bit of a rodeo, as I was in the back of the boat, didn't have my rod in hand, you know the drill. My first cast also hooked up, and fishing was damn good. Lots of fish seen, and the river looks absolutely gorgeous. We stopped just above 3 Mile to take in the river and marvelled at the chanfges occuring. Fish were moving all over the river, and I swear I senses the fish were getting a big kick having all this water and room to move about. Below 3 Mile, things really slowed down for me, and eventually never boated another fish after leaving 3 Mile. Had a could of nice hookups, but never touched a fish from there on down. Scott, fishing from the front, did land several very nice fish, including one rather hefty brown. I went through the usual cycle of flies until finally tiring of lobbing an ounce of lead around a fly rod. I swtiched to dries, and had a few takers on a Tarantula, but couldn't hook up. I'd been waiting for some baetis to appear, and had BWO emergers ready, and was MORE than ready to cast something a bit more delicate, but it was not to be. Others were hooking up, and I don't want to give the impression fishing was anythign less than spectacular. It just beat the crap outta me the second half of the day. There is almost no safe places for folks to wade fish on the 'horn right now, so plan accordingly. I'd say half the trips are ending before 5pm just because there's not a lot of places to stop and fish. Even our group, that started before 8am, and had a long stop for grilling burgers, pulled out about 4:30pm. Do plana trip to the 'horn while the waters up. Its a sight to behold, and absolutely gorgeous.

Bighorn River, June 1, 2008. Air temp 75 degrees, Water temp 42 degrees, 5,500cfs, sunny, occasional cloudiness, winds calm. Met up with Buster at his place in St. X, had an enormous breakfast (outfitter Joe Caton joined us and provided a lesson on how to eat pancakes). By 9am we had launched from Afterbay behind a massive flotilla of drift boats and we stayed behind them most of the day. The first thing one notices with the higher flows is how breathtakingly beautiful the river is. Rocks 5 or 6 feet deep twinkled up from the bottom while big fish scurried out of the way. The banks which normally show exposed rock and dried up moss were submerged. The river clearly is rejuvenated with the extra water. Fishing started out pretty slow. The consensus had been a red wire worm with an LBF in the morning and a pink soft hackle in the afternoon. The worm did pick up some fish, but nothing on the LBF. I was changing my dropper every 5 minutes looking for the right bug. It wasn't until we anchored over the gravel bar across and down from Red Cliffs that we started picking up fish with any regularity, and those came with the help of a leech pattern off the worm. All big, fat rainbows in there. We did discover that the fish were not holding along the redds between the gravel bar and the bank, but on the river side of the gravel bar, kind of lined up head to tail. Not much between the Drum Hole and Snag Hole. Once past the Snag Hole, we maneuvered towards the Duck Blind Channel when we spotted three distinct pods of fish rising along river left just above the entrance to the Duck Blind Channel. We were able to anchor about 60 feet across from them, and I rigged my Helios rod and Sharkskin line for dries, initially starting with a BWO emerger pattern and a midge dropper (no knowing what they were taking). The first cast yielded a big brown on the emerger. Second cast another big brown on the emerger. Took the dropper off, and we pulled fish after fish out of the pod. Buster and I took turns landing 5 or 6 while the other sipped Coronas. We worked those pods for hours until the beer started running low, and finally left, assuming that we'd find fish rising all over the river. Much to our surprise, we didn't. We had just lucked in to a couple of active pods. We did continue to get in to fish down the river. A gray ice scud started working just above the rapids and the rest of the way out. Rowing was somewhat easier, in my opinion, with the higher flows. The last mile was especially enjoyable as there's enough current to actually drift a boat through now. Water clarity was outstanding the whole float, and we saw fish (but no small fish) the entire day. Sure was good to see the river with some water in it.

Missouri River, May 16, 2008. Air Temp 80 degrees. Water temp 46 degrees, 4,400cfs. Calm, sunny, gorgeous. Woke up in the truck at 6am. Temperature was a nippy 38 degrees. Washed my face, brushed my teeth, and was on the road at 6:05am. I later discovered you don't need to rush or get up terribly early on the Missouri. Folks don't really start hitting the water until around 10am, unlike the Bighorn. Nevertheless, I had wanted to try a new spot upstream of Craig, and since it was an island complex, wanted some time to scout it out. A short walk from the truck, the flows were low enough to easily move around the island, but high enough to hold fish. I finally selected one side channel that looked appealing. There were no bugs out, and despite that lack of success with the MFG the day before, I tied on a red SJW and an MFG. Before long, I was in to some nice fish, mostly on the MFG. Nice fish on the Missouri are DAMN NICE FISH. They average 18 to 22 inches, and fight like a sonofabitch. They certainly weren't coming every cast, but a good hookup every 10 minutes. The run I was working was about 150 yards long, and typical of the Missouri, when your reach the end of the run, you take a 5 minute break, take a leak or a chew, walk back up the top, and do it all over again. By 10am, I stopped and had a little breakfast, and about that time the BWO started in again. This time very, very heavy hatches, which last until nearly 3pm. Surprisingly, the fish weren't on them at all. This time, anticipating dries, I packed along my new Orvis Helios 5wt lined with SA's new Sharkskin, so I was ready for some dry fly fishing. As I sat eating my snack, I marveled at the density of the hatch, and could only figure the bright sun was keeping the fish off the surface. Wanting to try the Helios, and knowing I was standing in a real honey hole, I decided to try something different. I rigged up with a small beadhead PT with a lightning bug dropper, with a small split shot, and NO indicator. Oh yeah. The lightning bug worked. Same spot, but bigger fish. The first was a 27 inch brown that wasn't heavy like the bows, but fought like one. After releasing him, the light was getting damn good, and I spotted a big bow a good ways upstream along the bank, and made a spectacular cast about 10ft above him. Just a second after the fly hit the water, he erupted from his spot and slammed the fly. I still had my rod tip down, and he shot upstream, and I lined him and broke him off in a fraction of a second. The line snapped so hard it shot back at me. As I untangled from the mess while cussing myself, I realized I'd lost my split shot on the brown before (hence the nice casts to the rainbow). I replaced the tippet and a new lightning bug, but left off the split shot. The beadhead PT, even as small as it was, must've provided enough weight to get it down far enough, because it was lights out after that. Fish after fish. And big honkers, too. God, you have to love the Missouri. I had started with 10 lightning bugs that morning, and finally left that spot at 3pm, thoroughly exhausted, with two left. I saw 2 fisherman downstream fishing the main channel all day (other that drift boats passing by). I booked a room with the Trout Shop for that evening, and found it very nice, clean and modern. Took about an hour nap, and woke to a foul smell in the room, which I discovered was my own feet/socks. I contemplated a shower, then remembered the hatch the night before. I hurriedly got the waders and boots back on, ran across the street to get more lightning bugs (just in case), and when I opened the truck, found the heat nasty, and suddenly had the urge to walk across the Craig bridge and fish downstream, which always seem to hold a fisherman. Seeing it was void of anglers, I wandered down. Alas, the hatch wasn't coming off, although there was the occasional boil appearing, and often enough to get the blood running. I decided to go with what had been working earlier, the weighted PT and the lightning bug, and no indicator. Now, the sun was at a steeper angle, and despite the excellent floatability of the Sharkskin line, I was having trouble seeing the end of it in the glare when I made a longer cast. Nonetheless, I'd cast, do a quick mend, and strip line until I had the slack out, all the while holding as much line off the water as I could. Here's where I learned another lesson (or two). This time, I was casting to a spot where the river narrowed, and I was standing out off the bank, casting to the inside of the bend, to about 2 to 2.5 feet of water, letting the line drift towards the middle of the river. Casting upstream to my left, as the fly got in front of me, I had the rod tip high, and would lower it gradually as it passed. Standard procedure, right? Well, most of the strikes came at the end (Leisenring lift?), where it would find me pinching the line tightly with my rod tip pointing at the fish ready to start my backcast. Suddenly a violent, AND I MEAN TEETH RATTLING violent strike would come, and the tippet would part before my brain could register what the f**k just happened. This happened more times that I care to admit here, but finally I started slip striking. This would involve the initial straight and good cast, a mend, a stripping in a few feet of excess line, and then instead of holding the line in my rod hand, dangling it from my open fingers. This still gave me enough feel for the initial strike, and you'd be surprised how well you can feel them! When the fish took, using great willpower not to close the fingers in my rod hand, I'd snap the rod back, and let the excess line fall through. Now I was getting and keeping hookups. I finally got to the point where I got pretty good at it, and am sooooo anxious to try it on the Bighorn. The next time you find yourself in a spot that has willing fish, give this a try. It brings a whole new dimension to nymphing, and adds an intensity to it that has to be experienced to be appreciated. I am now a believer of those guys you read about that espouse the virtues of nymphing without indicators. Anyway, I fished until the sun set, but this time left myself enough light to wade out safely. Went back to Izaak's and more crab cakes. Not needing the knockout power of Moose Drool brown ale, I went with a couple of Fat Tires, and then to the air conditioned room. Had a TU state council meeting, and did a presentation on the Bighorn issues. Great group of folks, who really do one helluva job for Montana, and I'm proud to be a part Montana TU. Can't wait to get back to the Missouri soon!

Missouri River, May 15, 2008. Air Temp 80 degrees. Water temp 46 degrees, 4,400cfs. Calm, sunny, gorgeous. Left the office at noon, stopped for a quick oil change, and hit Craig at 5pm. After a quick stop at the fly shop for some MFGs ( a local caddis pupa pattern made with dubbing that's tough to duplicate), I was feet wet by 5:15 at one of my favorite wading spots, and not a soul in sight. This spot is ALWAYS known for its big, big fish everything third cast with the MFG. After 30 casts, it was obvious I was a bit early for the caddis. Reports had been saying caddis were coming off much lower on the river, and weren't expected for nearly a week. Note to self: Always take the time to ask the locals what's workin'. Anyway, just as I was pondering my stupidity and considering some trusted Bighorn patterns, I heard the distinct sploot of a gulper. I clipped off my MFG and watched. Right along the bank 60 feet way, I saw noses coming up. Deciding now was a good time to settle down and start paying attention, I saw bajillions of BWO emergers in the surface film, and even a few in flight. By the time I located and tied on a sprout BWO emerger, changed leader and tippet, the air was heavy with 'em, and the risers intensified. Its funny how tough tying on a small fly is with the sound of rise after rise in your head. My first was a bomb. I had my trusty Winston 6wt, and had momentarily forgot how to cast a line without split shot on it. The fly landed about two inches from the end of my fly line. Before I could mend it proper, I had a solid take, and soon had a fat 18 inch rainbow in my hand. The rest of the night, well past sundown, the rises continued, and the fish kept after the emerger. At sundown I had to take off my prescription sunglasses, and with the regular lenses back in the truck, I soldiered on until a missed strike found my fly hooked somewhere on my vest. The whole time I had been standing in pretty much the same spot, about 30 feet from the bank, casting towards the bank, in 2 feet of water. wading out wasn't so much of a problem as was navigating my way up the rip rap with the rod. The flashlight was also in the truck. Satisfied with the success of the night, I headed back to Craig, and had a spectacular dinner at Izaak's. They must've hired a new chef, as the food was incredible. They serve the best crabcakes I've had west of Maryland. Two tall schooners of Moose Drool had me ready for some sleep, so I rolled in to a deserted Stickney Creek FAS, and slept in the back of the truck (the Craig FAS was full). I wouldn't recommend sleeping in the back seat of an F-150 crew cab unless you've had at least two schooners. Except for the geese that came visiting about 4am, the evening was uneventful.

Rock Creek, May 4th, 2008. Air temp 68 degrees. Water temp 42 degrees, 30cfs. Sunny, calm, gorgeous weather. Headed down to Rock Creek mid-morning for the first outing of the year to Rock Creek. Flows are still way down, and it looks like runoff is still a ways away. Was able to cover a lot of ground with the flows being down, and had to be extra stealthy approaching the pools that held fish, having seen a couple of really nice fish dart away because of my clumsiness. I started with a small Royal Wulff, and go a couple of takers early. But as the sun got higher in the sky, it was all sight fishing from there. After noticing my Wulff drift over a couple of fish without even a refusal, I added a size 18 Red Copper John, and lucked out with the choice of flies. The fish were all over the John, many of them hitting it a second after it hit the water. While I continued to pick up a few on the dry, the majority went for the John. About noon, a sparse hatch of BWO's came off, but I was having such success with the current combo, I never changed flies the rest of the day. The fish were all rainbows and browns, and a varied mix of size ranging from 5 inches up to one rainbow that went almost 16 inches. The largest fish, a chunky brown, broke off after an interesting battle. I discovered a narrow bend in the creek that fished in to two downed trees laying parallel to each other about 6 feet apart. As is the fly fisherman's curse, the best water was at the base of the trees, and I spotted this bruiser laying along side the deep fast water up by the bank. Wading slowly and carefully through the banches, I got to a position about 45ft from the fish, with branches to each side of me towering up to about 60 ft. There was room high and behind me for a backcast, and I got lucky on the first cast. The brown hit the John within a second of it hitting the water, and the fight was on. Of course, I hadn't consider what would happen should I hook up, but the brown apparently had. He immediately made for the sunken sweepers, and I was lucky to extricate him twice from his wrapping my 5x tippet around some snags. His final burst free from the downstream tree and in to the few feet of open water towards the next tree proved too much for me and the tippet, and the line parted. My trusty little 7 foot 4wt, and a BIG bend in it at the time. When the line cane free all of a sudden, the line shot back over my left shoulder, took the tip section of my rod with it, and landed about 35 feet up in the branches of the tree to my left. You can imagine what was involved getting everything back. Nonetheless, I was due for a good ass kicking, and I got it. Man, I love that little rod, though. If you fish some small streams, you gotta get yourself an Orvis Superfine Trout Bum 7' 4wt. Most fun you can ever have with a fly rod. Trust me. Anyway, that fish was a good 20 inches and heavy. He lives just a few feet from where a recent ancestor of his lived that also grew to large proportions. I'll get another shot at him soon. Fishing remianed good the rest of the day. Other than replacing the John, I never changed flies. There is an extraordinary amount of downed trees from a wind storm late last fall, and runoff should really change the creek when all that debris starts to shift and settle. I'm hoping there'll be lost of new holes and pools. Looks the the resident populations held up well. Saw lots of turkeys, geese and deer, one beaver, and lots of black bear and moose sign. Didn't see any sign of the griz reported in the area.

Bighorn River, April 19, 2008. Temps to 60 degrees, Water temp 40 degrees, 1,900cfs. On an invite from PaulM and his pal Al, we launched from Three Mile at around 7:30am, and were the second or third boat in the water. We had hopes of running into the other Gathering members, but we never did cross paths. Paul and I intentionally held off landing a number of large trout so as to leave some for our comrades. I can only hope at this point it paid off!

We pretty much got in to fish right off the bat, although it wasn't hot and heavy, but it was steady. After the first half dozen landed, we began to notice that the fish were all very nice sized fish, especially the rainbows. This continued for the rest of the day, much to our delight and amazement. By 11am, we started seeing a pretty good number of boats on the water. Our first lengthy stop was at the Corrals, where Paul absolutely began banging fish after fish. Every time I looked downriver, he had a big bend in his rod. Al and I did well, too, and Al was fishing the main river channel on the other side of the island. Next stop was the $20 hole which also yielded some ginormous rainbows. The Snyder Channel also held some big fish once we were past the island, but it was getting crowded. Our last good stop was just above the side channel above Soap Creek, where we saw some risers. Al was the first to discover the right bug, which turned out to be a size 20 parachute Adams in the film (i.e. no floatant). Worked like a charm, although it took about 20 casts per fish to get a hookup. For kicks, I tried a size 20 Royal Wulff and picked up a couple of fish with it. Again, the fish were all very, very nice size, and it was GREAT to be dry fly fishing again. We continued to catch fish until just short of the takeout. By then the wind had come up and we had to row to get out. A big thanks to Paul for the invite, and for the introduction to Al. Both guys are TERRIFIC fisherman and a blast to fish with. I rediscovered a sequestered love for fine whiskey to boot. A big thanks to pal T.O. for the pattern of the day.