Fly Fishing on Two Wheels

The gang is home safe & sound – no crashes, no speeding tickets, no breakdowns, and no roadkill – save a few million bugs.

Time for me to finish the posts for posterity.

Our second day in Dillon, the 17th, was fantastic. Geoff, Matt & I took a break from fishing and went for a nice 320 mile ride through the area.

We left north toward Dillon, cut west on 278 to Wisdom, north on 43 toward Divide, but took the Anaconda – Pintler scenic byway to Anaconda, north on 1 to Philipsburg, where we had lunch, continued north on 1 to Drummond, then came all the way back south on 90 & 15 through Dillon to the house.

320 Miles Around Dillon

It was a great ride.

Riding out toward Wisdom we got a great view of the Bitterroot Range we had left two days earlier. It looked more majestic the second time around, when it wasn’t framed in our mirrors.

Bitterroot Mountains

The town of Wisdom is a few buildings surrounding an impressive, and suggestive, mural of Sacajawea.

Sacajawea in Wisdom

I had read about the Anaconda – Pintler Scenic Byway in a couple of guide books while planning the trip. Our BMW F800 GS bikes were built for that road, it was steep, curvy, and mostly paved. So. Much. Fun.

Anaconda - Pintler Scenic Byway

The town of Anaconda is an old copper town. As the byway winds down out of the mountains, you’re greeted with a huge smelting stack. The road curves down, joins the highway and heads into Anaconda. Closer to town, along the left side of the highway, there is a mountain of smelting byproduct. I’m not sure what it is, but it was jet black and impressive. Looked like something that could have been used in the Lord Of The Rings Trilogy. Toxic as hell, I’m sure.

We continued through Anaconda to P-Burg for lunch. It is the wonderfully stereotypical red brick western town.

Philipsburg

After a good lunch, that included my first, and probably last, deep fried pickle, I snapped a photo of the carnage created by my helmet.

Carnage

The way home was less interesting and eventful. The most notable item was when we nearly ran out of gas in the town of Divide. Good times.

The other big lesson from this ride came in the form of a wicked cramp. After 5 hours on the bike, my right forearm felt like it was going to fall off. Geoff was kind enough to lend me his Crampbuster. The thing is a little bit of genius. I immediately ordered one and had it shipped to our next destination in Bozeman. I wouldn’t have been able to finish the trip without the thing. Get one if you plan to do any touring.

July 18th was our last day in Dillon. We met our guides @ 8 AM at the Brill’s house. Peter & I floated with Jeremy Garrett the lead outfitter suggested by Marty. We completed two floats. In the morning we drifted from High Bridge to Hanneberry, and in the afternoon we floated from the dam back down to High Bridge.

Beaverhead Floats

We had a great day. There were flurries of yellow sallies and caddis coming off consistently throughout the day. A few PMDs.

We nymphed all day — fishing a pretty standard two nymph & indicator rig. Jeremy had us keep the indicator relatively close to the split shot and separated our two flies by two feet or so. The fish in the Beaverhead hold in the quiet water off the seams.

Some photos:

Beaverhead Caddis

The Good Life

Beaverhead Rainbow

In my last post, I mentioned that we were lucky enough to have some friends allow us to stay in their house on the Beaverhead. Here’s how lucky we really were.

House on The Beav

Near the end of our morning float, I caught a nice brown in a riffle right below the house.

Brown Off The House

Our afternoon float began below the Clark Canyon Dam in the howling wind. After a little debate on wolf management (Jeremy is a hunter, and Peter is a conservationist who wrote a book titled: The Company of Wolves), we dropped the boat into the riffle below the spillway.

The Beaverhead is known for large fish, and it delivered. On our first float through the hole I hooked into a nice 14 inch brown. With the fish landed, our guide Jeremy, jumped out of the boat and hauled it back up to the top of the run for a second go. Second go, second fish. Peter estimates that Jeremy hauled the boat back up stream 10, or 11 times. Each time I stuck a sizable fish. It was a remarkable experience. Jeremy earned every bit of his fee and tip in that section alone.

Beaverhead Brown

We caught fish after fish on a fly called the Crack Back.

The Magic Crack Back

If you’re going to fish the Beaverhead, and are looking for a guide, you really should plan ahead and try and get on Jeremy’s calender. The dude rocks.

After fishing we made our way into town for dinner, and afterward met up with a buddy from work at a local bar. He happens to live in Dillon. He introduced us to the famous Moscow Mule. Despite being made from ginger beer, vodka, and who knows what else, it actually tasted pretty good.

We closed out our time in Dillon the next morning by making breakfast, cleaning the house, and setting out for Bozeman.

Dillon ranks near the top of our destinations on the trip for me. We had excellent accommodations, good food, the best fishing of the trip, and lots of good conversation.

Here’s one of the more memorable photos I took on the trip. The Hells Anglers on the deck of the house overlooking the Beaverhead. We’re lucky. No doubt.

The Hells Anglers

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I haven’t done much stillwater (lakes, ponds, etc.) fishing. Water that isn’t moving is pretty much a mystery to me.

When given the option to have a guide take me fishing on some private ponds outside of Dillon, I jumped at the chance to learn.

A day in the life of a trout is driven by three principle needs:

• Food – trout seek easy access to an abundant supply
• Cover – from predators like osprey, predatory fish, and fly fishermen
• Comfort – in the form of cool, well oxygenated water, that doesn’t require them to expend a ton of energy

In a river, interpreting these needs will often lead you to fish. Seams in the river current funnel food to fish. Cut banks, submerged boulders, and trees provide cover. Riffles offer comfortable, low-energy, access to breathable water.

At first glance, the ponds I was fishing with my guide Denny, offered no such clues to where the fish were. As we paddled across the first of three ponds we’d fish on the 16th I listened as he pointed me to underwater drop offs, holes in the weed beds, and other pointers to fish. The three basic needs remained the same, and as I clued in to the right things to look for, the fish showed up.

We opened the morning fishing with a scud pattern that imitates small shrimp like crustaceans.

I’d cast to the edge of a dark area of water (drop off) and, after waiting a few seconds for the scud to sink, would retrieve the fly in a slow 10 inch strip – pause – strip pattern.

Before too long, I caught a nice 12 inch rainbow. While I was excited, Denny just smiled knowing there were bigger things to come.

We worked our way to the north end of the lake where things heated up a bit. I landed 5-6 fish in pretty short order. None smaller than 14 inches. A couple were pushing 20. The good fishing continued throughout the morning on the big pond.

Here are some pics:

Rainbow Trout

Brown Trout

Brown Trout

The scud pattern fished so well it got retired into the hall of fame.

Hall Of Fame

I learned a trick from Denny while struggling to get a fly through the eye of a small hook. He suggested cutting the leader at an angle to create a ’sharper point’. It works. Use it.

On one of the smaller ponds, I caught a beautiful little Brook Trout.

Brookie

In the afternoon, we returned to the pond we started on. After a fish, or two, on the scud, Denny switched me to a leech pattern that looked an awful lot like a jig. The fly sported a brown leather ‘tail’ about 1.5 inches long, a red floss body wrapped in red wire, and a lead head that looked like an old school split shot. The leech was fished on a retrieve of two quick tugs followed by a slow 10 inch strip followed by a pause to let the fly sink a bit.

The fish hammered it with violent takes.

After landing several fish, my allergies kicked in. I keep some pills in my vest, but my vest wasn’t in the boat. I sat down for a rest and handed the rod to Denny asking him to show me how it’s done. On his 5th cast he hauled in a 25 inch brown.

Monster Brown

Brown Teeth

Denny pointed out that, like a shark, a trout’s teeth are designed to move food in one directions – straight to the belly. There are several rows of sharp teeth that angle inward as barbs for captured food.

My day on the ponds was good fun, and variety is the spice of life, but given the choice for one final day of fishing in my life, I’m convinced I’d go with a moving stream or river.

Back at the Brill’s, I started dinner. Chicken teriyaki. Rice. Grilled veggies. Came out pretty well. Gang seemed into it.

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The 15th was a travel day for the Hells Anglers.

We fished an hour out of the Bitterroot on our fourth day, thanked, tipped, and bid farewell to our guides. We picked up the bikes, and hit the road for Dillon.

Missoula To Dillon By Way Of The Big Hole

We rode over chief Joseph Pass into the Big Hole valley, and stopped at the Big Hole National Battlefield. The BHNB is a memorial to the Nez Percé tribe, who under Chief Joseph, successfully fought a battle against the 7th Infantry Regiment on August 9 and 10, 1877 as they attempted to flee to Canada. We watched a short, poignant, video at the visitor center before continuing on our way. The memorial is worth a stop if you’re in the area.

Big Hole National Battlefield

We followed the Big Hole River out of its enormous valley and continued on to Dillon through the beautiful Pioneer Mountains. Approaching Dillon, the winds kicked up gusts of 20 MPH. It was the first serious wind I’ve experienced on the bike since the crazy Christchurch to Queenstown ride in New Zealand. Like there, we resorted to watching the grass by the side of the road to help us predict and brace against the gusts. It was a hot day and adjusting for the gusts was made a bit more tricky by the tar seams on the road that had been used to repair cracks in the pavement. The tar softened in the heat and made for uncomfortable tire slips as we crossed them. The first one I hit made me sure I was going to dump my bike.

In Dillon, we met up at Safeway, did some food shopping, then rode out to a friend’s house on the Beaverhead River.

Our Friend's Bunkhouse

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Our third day on the river was marked with abundant hatches of drakes, PMDs, yellow sallies, caddis flies, and golden stones.

The bugs are the acknowledged base of fly fishing. They crawl, swim, fly, mate, and die, above the plants, and below the fish, in the Bitterroot’s pyramid of life. Without the bugs, there would be no fish. Without the fish, there would be no fly fishing guides.

It was a trip to listen to these guys talk about the bugs. They understand, and appreciate, their own dependence on these arthropods. They lustily speak the words; Plecoptera, mandible, subimago, midge, emerger, thorax, nymphal, and benthic.

The appreciation was contagious. Here are some photos of Bitterroot stoneflies.

Bitterroot Stonefly

Stonefly Husk

Stonefly and Boat

Plecoptera Husk

I snapped a pic of the gang before braking camp on our third day. Left to right: Me, Rob, Terry, Matt, Geoff, and Peter.

Hells Anglers On The Bitterroot

As the bugs support the trout, the trout support the osprey.

Osprey

I got very lucky with this pic. The bird called out. I grabbed the SD780 hanging around my neck, flicked it on, and snapped this photo as the bird launched from the tree. The little camera focused on the bird and produced a nice pic of the huge raptor.

Here’s another pic of a Bitterroot Cut-Bow hybrid. You’ll see the fish looks very much like a rainbow, but sports an orange slash along it’s jaw.

Bitterroot Cut-Bow

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Picking up where I left off in the last post.

7/13 – Bitterroot River

The 13th, our second day on the Bitterroot with the guys from the Missoulian Angler, began with groggy eyes and lot’s of campfire coffee to clear the cobwebs.

A Wee Bit Hungover?

Our first breakfast on the river was a revelation. Bacon, eggs, OJ, granola, and yogurt filled the tank for a second day of casting.

Bitterroot Breakfast

While packing up camp I found a Green Drake mayfly in my tent. The fish love these things. Up close I thought they were pretty neat looking too.

Green Drake - In My Tent

Green Drake - In My Tent

It was a good day fishing. Better than the first. The Bitterroot appears to be a very healthy fishery. The scenery is unbelievable, the fish are fat, healthy, and are excellent fighters.

Here is a good Cut-Bow that came to my net. A cut-bow is a hybrid trout that results when a rainbow and cutthroat inter-breed.

Bitterroot Cut-Bow

I didn’t get photos of the ‘bacon bombs’ but they were an equally exciting and dangerous way to close out our second day on the river. After dinner the men became boys when beer, fire, and bacon grease were combined to make mini mushroom clouds of flame. Casey, our outfitter, set a coffee can of bacon grease from breakfast in the fire. He let it sit there for 10-15 minutes while the ‘impurities’ crackled into the fire. With the grease can good and hot, he inched his way up to the campfire with an open beer and a wicked grin. He poured a few sips worth of beer into the super-heated grease. A 7-8 foot column of flame erupted into the darkness. I’m only a little embarrassed to admit the glee it produced. I’m also only a little bit embarrassed to admit that my glee was quickly followed by wondering what we’d do if that can of grease tipped in the wrong direction and hit someone in the face with the bacon bomb. On the river, in the middle of nowhere, the victim would be in deep shit. Guess I’m getting old. Reassuring to know a little glee still accompanies my age induced worries.

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Connectivity has been hard to come by, and I don’t have a lot of time this morning, so this will be a quick update on our adventures so far.

Geoff & Matt arrived in Missoula by truck and bike. My dad, brother, and I arrived by plane in the afternoon.

7/12/2010
We were picked up at the airport by the guys from the local Harley dealer. They had been holding our bikes since the shipping company dropped them off a week earlier. While my dad waited for them to finish putting on his wind screen, my brother & I went to get gas and a new set of headphones. The GPS paid for itself on the first day. If you plan on moto touring in an area you don’t know well, I highly recommend one.

After the Harley dealer we all met up at the Super 8 Motel in Missoula, got settled, then headed out for dinner.

The Hells Anglers in Missoula

Our outfitter Casey Hackathorn met us at the restaurant and talked us through our trip while we finished eating.

The next morning, Casey, Jeff, and John met us in the parking lot of the Super 8 and we followed them & their boats to a fly shop on the Bitterroot river. The owner was nice enough to let us store our bikes in a garage for the 3.5 days we’d be floating down the river.

On the ride to the shop, we passed a beaver that had been killed by a vehicle. Not sure why beaver roadkill struck us, but we’ve been talking and joking about it since.

Matt Hoover & I paired up with guide Jeff Lucas, and while our first day of fishing wasn’t stellar, we had a great time with Jeff.

After a day long float in rafting type boats (my first time in anything other than a Hyde-style boat) we pulled up along the banks to camp.

Russell, his dog Austin, and Taylor, our swampers, had floated down ahead of us in their two boats and set us up with an amazing camp. We ate remarkably well, then had drinks and sang cowboy guitar songs by the campfire.

Russel, Austin, and Our Camping Gear

Here are some photos from our first day.

Rob, Casey, & Geoff

Bitterroot Mountains

Matt's First Cutthroat With Jeff

3 Boats in the Bitterroot

You can see all the photos from our trip on my Flickr page.

I’m out of time.

More to come when I get back to an internet connection.

Mike

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We arrived in Missoula tonight.

Geoff & Matt by bike & truck.

Matt With Both Bikes

Terry, Mike, Rob, & Peter by airplane.

When we landed, we called the guys from Montana Harley Davidson who graciously came and picked us up at the airport.

We picked up the bikes and met Matt & Geoff at the motel.

We met our guide Casey Hackathorn for a quick dinner to cover the details of our first three days.

The Hells Anglers in Missoula

We’ll fish the Bitterroot river here in Missoula for 3.5 days. We’ll camp on the river Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday nights. It sounds like the river has been fishing well. We’re excited.

Peter arrived after the rest of us had packed our dry bags.

We’ll send a dry bag with the swamper down the river to camp. We’ll keep a small bag with us in the drift boats. The remainder will remain in the trucks.

So much anticipation, but it’s time for bed. Tomorrow morning will be here soon.

Oh yeah, Viva Espana! We caught part of the game during our layover in Salt Lake City, but the final goal was scored in overtime while we were in the air on the way to Missoula.

Many more photos, and stories, to come soon.

Sun sets on the eve of our adventure.

Missoula Sky

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Here’s Geoff, and Matt’s bike, somewhere in Idaho yesterday.

Geoff & Matt took turns driving the truck on the way to Missoula.

Geoff & Matt's Bike

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Geoff and Matt set out on the drive for Missoula tomorrow.

Geoff has kindly volunteered his truck as the ‘chase vehicle’ to carry our camping, fishing, etc. gear.

He’s also rented a trailer so we can rotate drivers by putting a bike, or two, in the trailer.

Gotta get a Hells Anglers sticker on the side of that bad boy.

The trip is here. The journey begins.

To quote Geoff, “Giddy Up”.

Geoff's Truck & Trailer

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We struggled for a long time to come up with a name for our biker / fly fishing gang. Then, in one of our meetings, Peter threw out the Hells Anglers. Perfect.

With absolutely no offense intended to anyone, and a modest fear of being run off the road and/or beaten with a chain, I present you with the Hells Anglers t-shirt:

Hells Anglers - Ride. Fish. Spawn.

Closeup

Thanks, Teedles for pulling these together!

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