Hello all and thanks for checking in
at The O’Grady Fly Fishing Adventures. As some of you know, Cat and I spent
last week on vacation in Southwest Montana; it was the first trip to the area
for both of us. During the fifteen hour drive home, I reminisced about the trip
and then tried to plan how I would write this blog. We had mixed feelings about
the trip and I think I have come up with the perfect analogy to describe it.
Last year Cat and I were talking to an acquaintance whom had lost her husband to
cancer a few years earlier. Later, when we were alone, Cat mentioned how much
she liked this friend and out of nowhere she said that if she were to ever die,
I had permission to remarry this old friend. I sat there for a second, and even
though I didn’t need any brownie points, I told her that I could never marry
again because it would be “unfair” to anyone not Cat. You see when it comes
right down to it, anything other than Cat would always fall short of my “now”
expectations. Fly fishing in Colorado has done the same to me. Any comparison
is just unfair.
I’m not sure how this ever could have happened
for me, but living in P-town might be like being married to Cat. I live ten
minutes from hungry and ferocious 10 to 25 inch fish. I am three hours or less
away from the Dream, Spinney, 11 Mile, and the Taylor for hogs, and less than
an hour away from rivers and lakes that can produce 100 fish days. So as I
write a little about our time in Montana, keep in mind that my bias for P-town
might show through just a touch.
Montana proved to be a mixed bag of
fly fishing adventures. On our way through Montana it occurred to us that we
would be going through the fly fishing Mecca of Bozeman and decided to stop at
the Simms headquarters. The Simms people were fantastic and we got the quick
“touron tour” and snapped a pic or two. Just being at Simms, made the next two
hours invigorating. We met up with the Clark Fork just after Butte and when our
lips could take no more moisture from the salivating, we stopped and wet a
line. Cat started hot and landed several fish quickly and my success came late
with a monstrous 10 inch cutty. After getting settled in Missoula, Cat and I
went to some friend’s house for dinner. It was great catching up with Tim and
Trac’ee. Thursday morning we headed up to my brothers property for some private
access cutty fishing and that was when things got a little sad. The creek which
normally flows at 10 to 15 cfs was nothing more than a trickle, so the rest of
the day was spent in the Bitterroot valley looking for a place to fish. Fishing
was good on the Bitterroot and we caught fish at every stop. Friday we took a
guide trip with one of the most knowledgeable guides I have ever met. Fishing
at times was good but fishing “big” water was a whole new world. Saturday was
the toughest day; we headed up the West Fork of the Bitterroot and found an
incredibly beautiful area but very difficult fishing. Sunday we made our way up
to Rock Creek and had our best day on the water. The fish were hungry and the
river was on fire, every run produced lots of fish. Monday on the way out of
the Missoula area we stopped and fished the Big Hole River and we felt this
river most resembled what we have here in Colorado…. so it instantly it became
one of our favorites.
One of the highlights we experienced
on the river happened at Rock Creek. Cat and I were fishing on opposite sides
of the river with Cat about eight feet below the road behind her. I happened to
look up river and I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me because I could
see something trotting down the road. I warned Cat that something was heading
her way and that it was big. When it came out from behind a row of trees, I
could see it was a Bull Moose. Fear raced through both our veins as the Bull
trotted within feet of my tiny wife. He turned and looked at her, but kept
going and went down about another fifty yards or so before coming down to cross
the river. It’s hard to really grasp their enormity until they trot within a
few feet of you. Now to make sure I never let a great experience die easily, I
think I spent most of the weekend talking in my Marty the Moose(from Vacation)
voice. The highlights of the fish came from the new species of fish we caught.
I caught my first and second Grayling, I caught my first and second Squawfish,
and even though they got really boring really fast, we caught our first hundred
or so Whitefish.
Now
when Cat and I were newly married I used to warn her about the Anna Kournikova
exception (If I ever met Anna, Cat would understand), but I think in the end, if
anything ever did happen to Cat, even Anna would fall short and on the same
note, Montana is great, but it’s no Colorado.
To
sum up the trip, it was great and I learned a ton. I would encourage everyone
to make the trip if they have a chance. We made pretty good connections to a
really great fly shop and guide there and also have an understanding of what it
takes to be successful on Southwestern Montana waters. We would love to share
this knowledge and help you out if you’re heading that way. And with that being
said, I sure am glad to be home and I’m ready to head to the Ark. As always,
Connell, Cat, Winston, Marty the Moose, and The Drift Fly Shop want to thank
you for reading…..
One friend that we have
made would really fit into this category. If it weren’t for fly fishing, I
doubt our paths would have ever met, but luckily for us they did and we got the
chance to spend yesterday with Mike at Rainbow Falls. Rainbow Falls is a
private fishery that The Drift has access to for guiding purposes. Now Cat and
I had only been there once and that was during the worst part of the summer in
the worst part of the drought a few years ago. Fish caught that day were
nothing to write home about and at times we even felt bad for harassing them.
Yesterday however was totally different; the fish were healthy, strong and way
smarter than I had hoped. It was very fun fishing with someone that was as
“possessed” when it comes to fishing as we are. When we got to the water it
took all of about two minutes to get wadered up and to begin casting, after six
and a half hours of frantic stalking, it was time to head home, and then we got
to the food and drink that was supposed to be for lunch. Yep, the only way to
fish. Well my arm was tired and sore by the time I went to sleep, but what a
way to make myself hurt. Mike and Cat caught way more fish than you could
count, and for 8 hours, I didn’t have a worry in the world. Thank you fly
fishing for giving Cat and I the ability to meet and spend time with so many
awesome people. As always, Connell, Cat, Winston, Rainbow Falls, and The Drift
Fly Shop want to thank you for reading…….
