Post Thanksgiving Gluttony

My fishing buddy Donn and I were sitting on the couch adjusting our belts to allow room for a unbelievable Thanksgiving feast to settle.  Inevitably the conversation switched to upcoming fishing opportunities.  Late fall and the winter months are when I get to do most of my fishing.  From March to late October I'm so busy guiding and running the shop,  I rarely fish more than a couple times a month.  Anytime the weather is halfway decent in the winter I hit the river.  We quickly checked the forecast and saw that the Monday after Thanksgiving was promising; forecasted temperatures in the mid 50's and partly cloudy.  All that was left to do was sit back, digest and hope the weatherman got it right.

I walked outside that Monday and it felt as though the weatherman rolled the right dice.  There are firsts for everything!  The overnight lows had only dipped to 35º and the mercury was rapidly rising to the predicted mid 50's.  Perfect for some late fall fishing.  Hell, I was sure we'd even have some  dry fly opportunities.  To say the least, from mid-November to late February the dry fly action is spotty.  We're mostly relegated to watching a bobber or maybe an eat or two a day on a streamer.  At the boat ramp I didn't notice any bugs yet so we rigged a nymph rig and a streamer rod.  What was VERY noticeable, was the lack of other anglers.  If you are brave enough to face winter fishing conditions the biggest reward is having the river to yourself.  No sooner had we gone 400 yards from the boat ramp when my rod was doubled over.  The 18" hybrid had succumb to a stonefly nymph.  Even though the water temps were hovering in the upper 30's, the buck gave a great fight.  He even tried to go airborne but only was only able to clear half his body from the surface.  As we moved down the river we brought a few more up on nymphs.  On one of my favorite runs, in that particular stretch, we were treated to 5 fish on dries.  Even though that is incredible in itself for the time of year, this is not the focus of the story.

Donn's 24" monster...take not of the shoreline in the
background

After being satisfied by catching some fish on dries, Donn immediately turned to the streamer rod.  He refuses to nymph and will only throw streamers in the winter.  They aren't nearly as productive as a nymphs, but there's always that opportunity for a trophy.  He fishes streamers in the Kelly Galloup fashion; type 3 sinking line and light, articulated patterns. We covered several miles of water without even a chase.  However, we did have a few false hookup's on rocks and sticks.  We entered a long, deep run and suddenly Donn's rod doubled over.  For an instant I thought he had caught another rock.  Fortunately, I was proven wrong as the rod bounced and line peeled off his reel.  Immediately I knew we had a VERY special fish.  As we began to fight it everything slowed down and became very quite.  At first the fish put his head down and bulldogged Donn.  This is the moment when fishing from a boat becomes a team sport.  If I were to let the boat be pulled down river by the current too much line would come off the reel.  This would make it extremely difficult for him (or any angler) to control the fish and also a good chance of losing it.  I struggled to hold the boat stationary as the fish held its ground (or I should say water).  After a what seemed like an eternity, Donn was able to turn the fish's head and we slowly headed downstream.  As he fought to gain line he applied opposite pressure to the fish.  This is crucial in battling big fish.  If the fish heads right you need to pull left with the rod, and vice versa.  After about 200 yards, I spotted a soft inside run perfect for landing a fish.  Although we both knew it was a monster neither Donn nor I, at this point, had seen the fish.  As I eased into the softer water the fish was still about 20 feet upstream of us.  Before he could coax the fish any closer, with a thunderous report,  my oar blade hit the bottom.  The fish although tiring, in a blink of an eye, rocketed out of the shallows and shot 100 feet upstream.  With line screaming off his reel I pulled on the oars as hard as possible.  Not only did I need to get the boat out off the bank, but as far upstream as possible.  As soon as I got the boat in motion the wily beast spun 180º and charged downstream.  I looked up at Donn's rod to see nothing; no bend and only slack, piled up line.  As the fish raced past us, I got a good look at just how big it was.  I felt like Sgt. Brody in the movie Jaws when the shark swims alongside the boat.  With all the slack line I was sure it would be the last time I would see this particular fish.  Fortunately, the fish gods were smiling.  After what seemed like a lifetime  Donn regained pressure on the beast.  I quickly spun the bow of the boat downstream and began furiously oaring.  We fought the fish for another 200 yards until I spotted another soft inside run.  After some very tense moments, including when the fish swam completely under the boat while it was beached, we finally had the 24", 5 plus pound male brown trout in the net.  On the Bitterroot River, this fish was, and still is, one of the biggest trout that has graced my net.  I have seen bigger fish but they always have found a way to escape the net.  My personal best is 23".  On shore we relived the battle over a few celebratory beers .  A great story for sure, but this only two-thirds of the journey.

Notice anything familiar in the background shoreline?  I'm
standing in the EXACT same spot Donn was the week
before!

Fast forward six days.  We saw another weather window open and decided to float the same section.  The fishing was good, but not as productive as the week before.  We nymphed up a few but none on dries.  About a mile upstream from where Donn had caught his beast, I switched over to the streamer rod.  It just so happened to have the same streamer attached as six days prior.  As we entered the run where we caught the brown, I was just about to say,  "There is no way I'm gonna catch a fish, let alone your brownie".  But before I could say anything, the rod was nearly yanked from my hand!  I looked at him in utter disbelief.  I said, "There's NO WAY this is your fish."  Just then the fish turned downstream as my reel screamed to life.  In an instant, 75 feet of line had been peeled off.  It was deja vu all over again.  Like I did the week before, Donn eased the boat into the first patch of soft water.  However, instead of holding it's ground, this fish decided to continue running downstream.  Donn was quick to get us back in the current and we were off to the races.  He soon caught up and we began looking at the next, very familiar, soft inside to land the fish.  At this point we both saw the fish and knew it wasn't the same brown trout.  Although, it was a very nice fish.  After beaching the boat in the EXACT same spot we were six days prior, a beautiful 20" hybrid male came to the net.  In all my years of guiding and fishing the Bitterroot River, I have NEVER seen two fish over 20" come out of the same run, with the same exact fly, and landed in the same EXACT spot.  We marveled over what had just happened over several beers, each tasting better than the one before.  Before leaving we named the run "Twenty or Better".  Neither of us fished the rest of the way to the take out.  However, we did laugh and marvel at our luck the whole way home.   

Wading Safe

I usually don't wade fish much, I prefer fishing from a boat.  However,  winter conditions usually dictate that any fishing done during these months, is for a few hours of wading.  February 4th was one such day.  We had just come out of several days with lows in the single digits, so there was some new ice formed along the banks.  My friend Donn and I decided to hit a stretch of water that has become our winter fishing grounds  It was a beautiful day; cloudy and temps in the fifties.  We had gotten a late start, so we only journeyed about 3/4 of a mile from the truck to a prime spot.  This is a classic riffle/run that stretches at least 200 yards.  It is a perfect winter run, that is loaded with fish from top to bottom.

The fish I almost paid the ultimate price for

I agreed to start fishing the top of the run, here the riffle plunges into a series of nice deep buckets.  Immediately I picked up a nice 17 inch rainbow.  A few casts later I laced into the biggest fish I have seen all winter.  Fortunately, the fish did not exert its muscle. If it had, I would have been running down the river in pursuit.  This fish was so fat that I was struggling to get it in my hand. I don't carry a net when I wade, but I wish I had one then!  After about the fourth attempt, I finally had the 20 inch, 3 1/2 pound fish in my grasp.  I took a few photos with my phone (both Donn & I forgot our cameras so catching big fish was inevitable) and then released the big hen back to the river.  After hearing my whoop and holler, Donn, who was about 100 yards downstream, asked if I had any streamers. Apparently, he had just lost two large browns due to a "dull hook".  I walked down gave him a streamer and showed him the photo of the large rainbow I just landed.  After sharing some laughs and acknowledgment of how fortunate we are to live in such a great place, I was back up fishing the upper inside of the run.

As I stated earlier, the days prior had been relatively cold and ice had formed along the bank.  On this particular run, the ice was several inches thick in the middle of the floe and stretched about 25 feet from the bank.  It was not stable enough to walk on, which I don't like to do anyway.  Ice scares the shit out of me!  The only way we could fish the run was to wade along the outside edge.

I wish I had my real camera for a better photo

 Donn had already been though the run and reassured me it was doable.  As I began skirting the ice, I knew it was gonna be iffy.  I have a rule that I NEVER wade much past my waist when I have on waders.  Once you get much beyond your waist, the margin of error becomes extremely small.  If something goes wrong and your waders fill with water, it is game over!  Donn has come up with an ingenious idea in dealing with this very issue but I am getting ahead of myself.  So there I was, skirting the ice as icy water was licking the tops of my waders.  I was at the point of no return but, in just a few more steps, I could tell the water would begin to shallow up.  It was then that I felt a slow push from behind, the kind you would feel from a surge by a large crowd of people.  I started to feel the 35 degree water entering my waders, which was like thousands of tiny cold needles piercing my skin.  I tried pushing back, but realized that the ENTIRE ice shelf had separated from the bank.  It was moving with slow, deliberate purpose toward the middle of the river; carrying everything in it's path, including me.

This was no small piece of ice that I could simply dodge.  The floe easily measured 150 feet long, 25 feet wide and was about four inches thick in the middle.  I have no idea how much it weighed, but I would guess several tons, at a minimum!  The outside edge, where I was, was very brittle.  As I was being pushed toward deeper water, not only was water was entering my waders but I couldn't gain any purchase on the ice.  Every time I tried to get on top of it, I would just break though.  Things were becoming VERY critical VERY fast.  Donn, seeing my dire straights, started coming out toward me.  I kept trying to push back against the massive floe because if it ran me over, Donn would be pouring whiskey over my grave in true Irish fashion.  Fortunately, when Donn got further out onto the floe, it caused it to crack.  The floe started separating between us and creating an escape route. I was initially hesitant to enter the gap.  I had visions of being between both floes, only to be squeezed out and forced under.  However, water was now pouring in my waders and they were getting extremely heavy.  If I took on much more water it wouldn't have mattered if I was pushed under the floe, I was headed to the bottom anyway!  I shot into the gap and Donn was able to help me scramble onto the thicker section of ice.  Donn grabbed my rod, which I threw on the floe when things started going awry, and we got the hell outta there.

Many things could have gone the other way that day but didn't.   However, I should not have been in the situation in the first place.  I broke my one main rule of wade fishing with waders; I went well above my waistline.  I don't care how strong you are or how good of shape you are in, once you get much beyond your waistline, you are setting yourself up for disaster.  I got lucky the other day, but will credit myself for a few things.  First of all, I didn't panic.  If you panic in heavy situations, it will be your last!  Secondly, when things started going bad, I didn't hesitate to ditch my rod.  I was using a R.L. Winston with a Ross Vexsis Reel; a thousand dollar setup.  So many accounts of people drowning in the river include, "The last time we saw him, he was headed down river with his rod in his hand."  Is your favorite rod and reel really worth your life?!  Things can ALWAYS be replaced, life can't!  Lastly, and most important, if Donn were not there I would not be writing this.  It is always good common sense (it should be called "uncommon sense" because common sense is not so common) to practice the buddy system.  When things go bad, it is good to have someone come to your aid.

I mentioned earlier that Donn has come up with an ingenious idea to help in situations such as these.  It is no secret that waders are extremely dangerous.  Every year, anglers are pulled to their death due to their waders filling with water.  Wading belts only offer a false sense of security as it will not stop the waders from filling.  However, after Donn had his own life threatening situation, (see his story http://wadesafe.blogspot.com), he began to develop WADESAFE Wader Technology.  He has created a patent pending design to completely evacuate the water from the waders.  I have helped with the field tests of these waders and can attest to their effectiveness.  The day will soon come when every pair of waders will incorporate Donn's technology.  The following is the link for WADESAFE's website http://wadesafe.com. When I got back on the bank after my ordeal, I told Donn that I sure wished I had a pair of WADESAFE waders! In the mean time, be careful out there and wade safely.