Sight Fishing, Bent Bamboo and Bows

" I believe cats to be spirits come to earth. A cat, I am sure, could walk on a cloud without coming through".
- Jules Verne

I was hiking downstream returning to where I parked. It had been a good day on the water. Two anglers were across the river. The younger one had a good bend in his rod. The older fellow wasn't packing. Maybe he was a guide or he put his rod down to help his friend land the fish. I watched him fight the sizable trout and commented from a distance that it looked like he was fishing with Bamboo. A big smile grew. The other fellow said proudly they had spotted the fish rising two feet from the bank and hooked it on a size 18 dry fly. Stuff like that happens on this river. I stood there and took it all in while he landed it. We talked and agreed it was an accomplishment: a big fish on a small dry...and on Bamboo!



As I continued my walk clouds rolled in. I had my success earlier in almost full sun when trout spotting was best. Now things were very challenging. I used the dark reflection of the high cliffs to my advantage to see through the grey surface. These were the same cliffs that blinded me earlier when the sun was out. Now they were my friend. I stopped at a section of the river that held a good fish as I had spooked one there several weeks earlier. My angling memory is good. I stood still for ten minutes watching the water. The trout's movement gave it away otherwise with the poor visibility, I would have never seen it. Movement always catches our eye. I casted. A large trout ate my dry fly.

I won't have a chance to get back to fish the Prairie rivers before the season ends. I'm going to miss the promise of the day on the drive from the mountains out onto the Plains in the early morning light. I'm going to miss hiking the undulating coulees and their late day shadows. I'm going to miss the big broad winged birds riding the afternoon thermals and their shadows on the river. I'm going to miss the Pyrenees sheep herder. I'm going to miss staring into the water for hours on end in search of trout as it is so mesmerising and crystal ball like. And of course I'll miss tricking the occasional big beautiful trout in shallow water. The Buffalo, the ancient High Plains Grizzlies, and the powerful Nomadic Hunters are out there somewhere roaming the Coulees. Next year while walking along a river, I'll find them.



mayfly: mahogany





The Mighty Mo

"All water has a perfect memory and is forever trying to get back to where it was".
- Toni Morrison


Coffee in a take out cup simply tastes better on cold Autumn mornings. With the recent frost, leaves are dropping. Pumpkins are on porches as Halloween is just around the corner. My dog's outdoor water bowl has a layer of ice on it. My wading boots are semi frozen. After tugging them on I walk like Herman Munster. Hay bales are stacked high in the nearby fields. Waterfowl are passing overhead. The big Winter sleep is coming but not quite yet. Don't put away that fly rod. From all over people are converging on the Missouri river affectionately called the "Mighty Mo". It is Baetis time and they are throwing the small greenish-grey coloured flies at rising trout, or slinging streamers in search of big browns. As it is cooling down, things are really just heating up.

-Craig, Montana   October 11, 2013



the rise



morning frost on fly covered boat cooler



I just spent a week on the Missouri river....and it was heating up. I can't think of a better place for a dry fly angler to plant himself in mid Autumn, whether it be for a day, a week or a month. The larger Baetis (Olives) didn't really pop when I was there, so I fished Pseudos (tiny olives), size 22 and 24's. I've been back home for a couple of days now and my eyes are still aching. There were plenty of the small guys hatching from 2 to 4 pm. And the fish were up. Most were subsurface feeding but some poked their heads through the meniscus and munched on top. I sight fished and focused on the slow flat water sections of the river. It was challenging angling...picky trout in knee deep water. I did best with cripple and emerger patterns: flies lying flush or dangling through the surface. The impressions you tie and choose can make or break your day. Many fish (probably most) let my offerings pass overhead untouched...but I did connect. Trout in a quick feeding rhythm (gorging) meant a much better chance. A couple of afternoons I fished on my knees to feeding trout only a rod length or two away. Here I was on the broad "Mighty Mo" fishing it like I was casting to trout in a bathtub. Micro-flies in a microcosm. I grew up fishing small streams. Maybe, like water, I'm simply trying to get back to where I once was.

 

walk to river

 



clear water and weeds



flat water side channel

weed mats: fish often prowl the edges

the occasional brown trout, nice surprise