Two days off and sunshine mean one thing in Montana….no, I don’t have to say it, but you already know, don’t you? Brad let me out of work a couple hours early and with a fully stocked cooler of beer & brats, I slapped the drift boat to the back of the truck and hit the road. The drive over to Dillon, MT from West Yellowstone takes about two and a half hours and has some darn pretty vistas. Just outside of Ennis and the first scenic overlook makes me wonder what it must have been like when the first pioneers explored the area…wanderlust, fresh air and everything in between; without the care of being out of cell phone service. Pulling into Twin Bridges with the obligatory salute to the R.L. Winston Factory, I recalled that I had already rigged up my 9’ 6wt BIIX and 8’6” 5 wt WT the night before and was already to fish…I just needed water. I got to the campground on the Beaverhead River below Clark Canyon Resevoir and Lloyd was already fishing, having arrived the day before. Apparently the fish were giving him some “payback” for the sore lips he dished out the night before.
We still managed to land some nice healthy rainbows on small olive micro mays and PT’s. It would seem as the payback was both figurative and literal as that evening after dinner and a few beers, Lloyd managed to hook his own upper lip with a #2 streamer hook. I recall the conversation went something like:
Lloyd: “Um, Jed, I need your help for a moment.”
Jed: “Hang on, just a couple more casts.”
It’s moments like these that we remember why we fish barbless. A heavy downpoor and lightning forced us to an early retirement for the evening. Up at 5:30 am and we headed back to Dillon for some advice at the local fly shop. We decided to float the Big Hole from Divide to Melrose in hopes of tossing around some salmonflies. Although a few PMD’s were flying around there were no big bugs and no heads were up. After an hour or more of throwing dries we eventually caved in to our own stubborness and rigged up some nymphs - we didn’t drive 3 hours to get skunked! Eventually a decent brown found it’s way into the net.
Soon after we switched over to streamers as the banks were looking too tasty to pass by waiting for bobber go down. When we figured out that most of the fish seemed to be up in the grass where the water was over the banks, we had a pretty decent bite and several long-distance handshakes. Lloyd eventually let ME fish and got on the oars for the last half mile. Gotta love it when you get off the river, finish putting your gear away and only minutes later the monsoon rains come!