Spring

When we left for southwest Montana Thursday it was a typical “spring in the rockies” kind of day, every configuration of weather from all points of the compass. Friday was more of the same. Fortunately, the fishing at least held some promise.

Nothing but an occasional Midge was skittering across the surface of the upper Clark Fork so it was nymph’s all way. This old Brown bit on a Ray Charles. He was definitely the highlight of the day. After a couple of hours of wind, sun, snow and water we beat a hasty retreat for the indoors.

Fish seemed to be pretty scarce compared to this time last year. The upper Clark Fork has been beat pretty hard by drought and last years temps climbed fast in early July with flows dropping quickly at the same time.

Hopefully, it was just an off day- it definitely was for me.

The sun rose in a clear, cold sky Saturday morning. Overnight lows were in the low teens- brrrr. It looked good from the inside. First stop was a visit with Paul at “Fish On” in Butte, (406) 494-4218. Paul set us up with the proper bugs and pointed us in the right direction for the Bighole. The day warmed quickly and by early afternoon we were standing in the river, a light wind with the sun still with us. Paul mentioned we should not say the “w” word and of course we heeded his caution.

We started at the Maiden Rock access. Early on it was questionable whether the loss of sensation in the lower extremities was really worth it- one fish and not to impressive at that. After blasting the car heater on our feet and a cup of strong coffee from the bar at Melrose we were ready to go at it again.

Down the road a bit we found a likely spot and headed for the river. On the walk down it was apparent right away that the weather had improved, no breeze, just the sound of the river and the few birds that were making inroads as the cold season retreated.

Fifteen minutes or so of casting a gold Hares Ear in the afternoon sun and I was starting to drift off a bit, the river and the sun were casting a spell. My skin was soaking in some real heat from the outdoors, it was a body thaw. Every few casts I would snap out of it long enough to free my hook of the algae and flotsam I’d picked up off the bottom of the river. Finally, as I steeped like a tea bag in a hot cup of water, it happened. I was on a mental lark in the sunlight, my line was just finishing out a drift and wham. “Beam me up, Scotty!”. With all my particles gathering themselves again, my line went suddenly slack. From the silver sunlit water the fish jumped, once, twice, three times. The first leap was the best, it was like a dolphin, nose up and a spin with the water flying like a thousand little flecks of mercury. Back in the water the line went tight again and he made his runs, a few minutes later, after a quick picture he was back where he started.

Three more followed before we had to run for an early Easter dinner. It was a tough call, being late is the norm, its almost expected, but being late for Easter dinner could bring down some real heat so we reluctantly gave up our little Eden for a spot at the table.

Sunday is always a little depressing because you know its the beginning of the end. As Easters go in Montana, it was one of the nicer days I can remember. Very little wind, mostly sunny, and it was actually warm. So warm in fact that the Browns in Warm Springs creek were feeding at the surface. We were spazzing out! Dry flys! Emergers! Generally these fish aren’t big, once or twice a year you catch one 18 inches or so, most come in around 12-13. But they are willing enough. A size 18 BWO or Adams and its “game on”. Three hours of that (when you should have been driving home) and the well is starting to fill again. Its really spring, and yes, the ice is really finally letting go!