Ruby Springs

The Galeton River right now is very low. A river runs through it, but very slowly.

Nevertheless, it does run and the rivers are still open. So my friend Mark Koide, who resides in of all places New Jersey, flew out to meet me for a few days of fishing in the mecca of all fishing – the land of the Madison and the Jefferson and the Galeton and the Big Hole and the Beaverhead. And, perhaps most importantly, the storybook Ruby Springs.

The highway west out of Bozeman from the airport takes you right to the Galeton and by early afternoon we were itching for some fishing. We exited the highway, double-backed a few miles and found a pull-off where we could switch to wading boots, gear-up and start casting within an hour or so of landing.

The heat kept most sane folks in air conditioned parlors, but we started flailing away at this riffle and that run as if we were Orvis himself. We were comforted in the fact there was the occasional rise and so clearly fish were present. But we had yet to land our first fish. Ahead I noticed a slack water to the right of a nice, cool riffle and so I switched to a streamer and cast a few times to a shady area just above a fallen tree.

Cast, sink, sink, bam! Fish on.

After a nice little fight I had this gorgeous 14-inch brookie in the net.

 

With a thunderstorm gathering we made our way back to the bridge but on the way found rising brownies, and I managed to land a nice 10-11 incher on a dry.

Montana, like much of the West, is suffering a drought that will likely soon turn into emergency conditions. It will surprise no one if some of the great rivers are closed this month. The rain has been fine this season, but the snow pack is at or near zero and so flows in early July are closer to what you would expect in early August.

Our fishing lodge expected us for cocktails and dinner by about 7 so we got off the water and hustled south and west to Ruby Springs Lodge, our home for the next three nights.

In the movie Field of Dreams, the young ballplayer asks his host, “is this heaven?” Kevin Costner replies, “no this is Iowa.” Same line applies for flyfishing at Ruby Springs. No, this is Montana.

Paul Mosley and John Sampson have created something other-worldly, yet amazingly comfortable and familiar. The lodge cabins are what I would build for myself – in heaven. Yes they are comfortable and yes they are spitting distance to a great fishing stream. (Photo: our deck rail and the Ruby just beyond)

 

We made it to cocktails and dinner, but the rising brown trout – many of the them quite large by my Seattle standards – were too much for us to ignore at our sumptuous table. We impolitely excused ourselves after devouring a great steak dinner and were on the water again before sunset. We landed some nice brownies and of course a few more by sunrise after just a few hours of sleep.

 

A word about my fishing companion, Mark Koide. Koide must be the Japanese word for, "I love to fish." Koide is the CEO of a construction company that makes custom swimming pools, and he's a very accomplished business guy. But I've never seen a more passionate fisherman. John Gierach wrote in All Fishermen Are Liars this about fishing lodges and guys  like Koide:

I enjoy and appreciate fishing lodges, but not everyone does. Balls-to-the-wall types may see regular mealtimes and other necessary regimentation as a waste of valuable fishing time.

Let's just say Mark maximized his fishing time, and he was rewarded with a lot of great fish and a lot of great fishing stories.

Our guide, Jason Carrico, chose one of the mystical rivers mentioned above for our first morning. The dam-controlled water flow was at a nice 1500 CFS, which seemed perfect for floating and finding hungry fish. I had read about and dreamed of these rivers for years and so this was a particular treat. We left our lodge early, climbed the mountain elevation through Alder and Virginia City and descended into a spectacular valley. We used a nice nymph rig I won't describe here, and I got started with a 20.5" rainbow that was full of color and energy.

 

Jason is a knowledgeable, patient and authoritative flyfishing guide. We were lucky to have him. There is nothing like fishing with a guy who is at the top of his game. He managed the boat with great skill while keeping Mark and me focused and on the best buckets. We worked hard and reaped the rewards of lots of very nice fish. Jason also makes an extraordinarily nice streamside lunch.

Next day we floated the Jefferson which may be the most beautiful and diverse river in the Montana cannon of rivers. We did dry-dropper rigs this time and fished quite well early in the morning before the searing heat. We had a lull mid-day but it really picked up for us right at the end.

Both Mark and I continued to supplement our intense guided fishing trips with solo jaunts to every part of Ruby Springs. And we had great results in the mornings and early evenings.

RSL may be the best managed and most positive culture I've encountered in the wide world of sport and hospitality. I plan to be a repeat visitor and hope to meet my new friends again there next summer.

 

Maui

Someone once wrote that he had to quit his job because it got in the way of his fishing. Work certainly got in the way of my fishing last year as this seldom updated blog indicates.

A good (out of work) friend texted me at regular intervals this past year inviting me to fish for trout over the summer and salmon in the fall. My reply was always some dismal excuse to say no, usually related to work.

Looking back over the blog I managed just one post the whole year, and it was a highlight of the year -- serf perch in Carlsbad. I failed to write about my wonderful, if brief, guided trip on the Roaring Fork near Aspen where I landed a beautiful wild trout about 16 inches and lost a very big one due to the high and fast remainders of snow melt. I also caught a few small trout over the summer in my home waters, but nothing worth reporting.

This Christmas holiday I finally got some time away from work, and with relaxation came fishing. In the month leading up to our vacation, I did two things. First, I booked a guided trip with Brian Edmission of Maui Shore Fishing. Second, I invested in a new saltwater reel to go with my 7 wt. Sage flyrod. Both investments were aimed at catching my first bone-fish or O'io as they are known in Hawaii), which didn't happen, but both paid off with a lot of learning and fun.

 

There's Brian above throwing you a shocka with one hand and holding Hawaii's state fish, the Humumunukunukuapua'a -- with the other. Ryan snagged that reef fish with a little plastic grub. Ryan also caught some large needle and trumpet fish.

 

Brian is a knowledgeable and genuinely enthusiastic San Diego surfer dude turned Maui fishing expert. He's been fishing these waters for awhile now and has really learned the terrain and the techniques.

 

He gave me a good tip on casting to the edge of the reef and then dragging my squid pattern along the sandy bottom. "Imagine a little worm making itself along the bottom. That's what you're trying to imitate."

 

He was right. I caught a small Bluefin Trevally as well as this beautiful Leatherback Jack.

 

 

 

Brian tipped me off on a good place to find bone-fish in the flats not too far from where we were staying in Wailea. I headed there at sunrise before the Hawaiian trade winds kicked in, and found a healthy population of bones dimpling the surface and generally swimming about. It was exciting to sight-cast to bone-fish but alas I got no takes. Next time.

 

The pleasure of fishing stayed with me, and a few days later back at home in Bellevue I stumbled across a collection of stories by Ernest Hemingway called Hemingway on Fishing. It's not cheap but it has an interesting little essay by his son and then a series of short stories, book chapters and some journalism in which Papa writes beautifully about fishing.

 

Last night, New Years Eve, my fishing luck continued when I again found by chance a documentary on television I had not heard of before -- The Rocky Mountain Fly Highway. It is easily the most beautifully filmed and romantically written film I've seen about fly fishing.

 

All of this -- Hawaii, Hemingway and Fly Highway -- have restored my love and excitement for fishing.

 

Happy New Year!