Fishing Montana

The first time I laid eyes on the river it seemed like your typical river with bends and long straight stretches lined with Cottonwoods along it’s banks.

But then I stepped into the river for the first time and felt the icy cold waters from high in the Rockies flowing across my waders. The river seemed much bigger now that I was standing in it.

As I began to make my way to a spot that looked like it might hold one or two of the famous Yellowstone Cutthroat Trout the first thing I realized was how slick and slimy the rocks were on the bottom. It’s been said that wading the Yellowstone is like walking on bowling balls barefooted with axle grease on your feet.

Other than one or two other smaller rivers, the mighty Yellowstone may be the slickest river I have ever waded.

Charlotte and I pulled into a small campground along the river at the bottom of Yankee Jim Canyon and set up camp along in the trees not more than 75’ from the river. We could here it gurgling and see it running past our campsite.

We decided to get into the river just downstream and realized within a few minutes that I had made a mistake in thinking we could just walk along the edge around the next bend and find a nice spot to start fishing. My buddy JB Klyapp had mentioned a nice little riffle just down the way.

We spent about a half an hour struggling to keep one another from slipping and being forever pulled down the river to our own personal destiny. It was scary to say the least.

After much spirited conversation about my choices of places to fish we crawled up the bank and under a barbed wire fence to walk above the river down to our fishing hole.

When we arrived JB and his wife Lynnae were fishing the best spot as only a good guide would do. We moved downstream and started chucking huge Salmon flies into the swift current. On my third cast I hooked and landed a nice 16” native “cutty” as the locals call them. It’s golden color with reddish blue dots along the lateral lines made my smile. When I saw the telltale bright orange stripe under its jaw I knew it was a cutthroat.

Not long after that, Charlotte landed a nice 16” cutthroat as well. The Salmon flies were everywhere. They are like grasshoppers on steroids. These things are like miniature 747’s and they seem to love clinging to you and crawling inside your shirt and under your hat and behind your sunglasses. It is a little creepy to say the least.

When I looked into the setting sun, the sky is filled with flies. Mostly giant Caddis flies and the 747’s. It is a fisherman’s dream to be on the stretch of river when the flies are so thick it looks like the Apocalypse.

Just before we quit for the day I found a riffle that held many fish and managed to land a 20” German Brown trout. Many others won the battle and will be carrying some of my precious flies in there lips for a couple of days.

As we walked back to camp we talked about how amazing Paradise Valley is and how fortunate we are to be here together.

Tomorrow we are heading up to Mill Creek in search of big fat Brook Trout and then come back later in the day to fish the Salmon Fly hatch again.

This is Paradise for sure.