Fish 1, Dan 0

I have settled into a routine of a couple of hours of fishing every working day, before or after a shift. I feel like a kid again, this is what I came to Yellowstone for. Waders and flyrod stay in the car. Just a ten minute drive and park at a pullout along the Firehole River.

 It’s still streamer fishing, the insect hatches haven’t formed up. Doesn’t bother me at all, I love to fish streamers.  I see other anglers, fishing dry flies, talk to a few of them. Like waiting for Godot. They miss a lot.

 I have been catching two or three nice fish every day. It’s become regular enough I don’t bother to take a photo of every fish. Unhook, let them catch their breath in slack current, send them on their way. No dinks, typically 12-13” rainbows, occasionally a brown trout slightly larger. I also get a chance or two at a big fish just about every trip. Three days ago, had one of those I-thought-I hooked-the-bottom-then-the-bottom-started-to-move strikes. This is a lot of fun!

Brown Trout on a store-bought streamer

As with any sport, fishing improves with this repetition. The reel drag is set properly now. Casting greatly improves with a clean the line and fly line dressing. Get the angle of the cast right makes for a snag-free drift on the sinktip line. Give a little when fighting bigger fish, or they shake the hook with their strength/bulk.

I fished a late afternoon the other day after work. It was a beautiful day, warm and sunny. As I headed north along the river, the usual turnouts already had a parked car or two. That’s okay, it’s always fun to try a new piece of water. Besides, no need to crowd someone or feel crowded, so I stopped at a new turnout.

Wide, flat stretch; not particularly interesting from a distance

I had been curious about fishing this turnout. From the road, it doesn’t look like it would hold good fish; the river wide, featureless. On the other hand, I had not seen anyone ever fish here. That’s always a plus for a piece of water, lightly fished. It’s about 250 yards across a sloppy marsh to get to the river, enough to deter many anglers. It isn’t meadow water, so you have to watch your backcast.

Where I started casting was knee-deep water, a straight stretch lacking a deep run or trough that holds fish. The bottom here is fishy, cobble and larger. Moving methodically downstream, I swung the streamer through what darker water I could find. Thinking like a fish, ‘where would I be sitting in this river?’ I directed each cast into deeper water, a slack current, an ambush point just off the main flow. 

This wide stretch had one nice thing going for it, very wadeable. I was now standing midstream, able to cast the 30-40 feet to work either bank. That’s good, bigger fish like to lie along the bank where the current slows and concentrates food in the drift.  

A deep undercut bank caught my eye, its darker water as good as a signpost reading, Big Fish Lies Here. The streamer landed on the grassy margin of the bank, the current working on the line pulled it softly into the face of the undercut. Perfect. 

The fly didn’t go ten feet before the fish barreled from the cover of the bank and pounced. Fish on!  Strong, heavy, the bulldog fight of a brown trout. Instantly, the warm, tranquil afternoon tingled with excitement. I was into a very nice fish!  

Worked 500 yards of the Firehole River, all to myself.

I got a good look at it on the first jump. Wow, yes, nice fish! Surely 20”, and deep-bodied. Confident in the 8 lb. tippet I was using with the streamer, I put the full flex of the 5 weight rod into him.  Didn’t even budge him. 

An angler’s self-talk kicks into gear in situations like this. Stay calm…let the rod fight the fish…keep a full flex in the rod…be patient because this is going to take a while. 

The fish jumped three more times, and I stayed with it. It moved out toward the middle, then back toward the bank. No worries, no snags in sight. Minutes had passed, this was a good fight. Then, it jumped a fifth time…and threw the hook. Fish 1, Dan 0. 

That’s the best trout I’ve ever had on while wade fishing. The biggest trout since my trip to Argentina with Tom Quail two years back. It had the strength of a steelhead. It took my fly in broad daylight on a bluebird, sunny day.  

Flat stretch continued around bend, concealing a deep run. I'll be back.

I would have liked to put my net under that fish, and seen how far its tail would have stuck out. I would like to have a photo of it to show you. Maybe next time. That’s the thing about this summer…there are going to be many more next times between now and mid-October. They will come on the Firehole, the Madison, the Gallatin, the Gibbon, the Lamar, the Gardner, Soda Butte and Slough Creek. 

Walk back to the turnout. Crowd of one.

This is a lot of fun!