West '05 Trip - Day 11

Posted: 2006-02-24
By: Randy Cochran

Morning came and I shook free from my tent to pack up and venture out in the upper reaches of the Big Hole Valley.

Everywhere I stopped was marked with signs of a mandatory closure. Although this was the first time I had ever been there, it was clear to see that the water was extremely low and fishing there would have resulted in overstressed and dead fish. Reluctantly, yet respectfully, I turned away and drove down the canyon to try the lower reaches.

Beyond the Wise River Junction was the first water clear of closures. Many people were out and about, so I kept on keepin' on and ventured yet lower in search of a peaceful place to alight a dry.

It was 11AM by the time I reached the end of a dirt road at a fairly remote access point. A few risers greeted me once I made the stream's edge. A few small mayflies of indeterminate make or model were coming off, so I threw a size 18 parachute Adams out onto the ripply water in hopes of tempting a take.

3 whitefish succumbed to my wares, as did a beauty of a rainbow that gave me a few tense moments on the 6X before my net enveloped her.

High winds and weather moved in shortly thereafter, stalling the action somewhat. I fished up for a while with no success, then found a spring influence as I waded over to the train tracks to hike back. Hearing water running under the tracks peaked my interest, so I checked the other side of the tracks and found a beautiful, deep spring pond full of Browns.

After soiling myself, I regained composure and threw a few small flies before missing a few fish on a bugger. Moving to the deep end turned out to be the best thing. Here I landed a Brown of about 18" and had a rush of 3 fish as big or bigger in a standoff over my fly on the very next cast. After that they cooled down for a bit, so I peeled myself away and continued back to the car.

I decided to call it a day thereabouts, but not before I showed the spring pond to a couple I had met earlier. Jim and Lynette Moore from La Crosse, Wisconsin had been fishing further down without much luck, so I told them about the pond and watched them for a bit before bidding adieu.

On my way to my car I said goodbye to another fellow that I had met, Brent Ollie (?) from Tennessee, who was out car camping while waiting on info about Electrician's work the following day. He had been staying streamside for 2 weeks since talking to a supervisor somewhere, and was getting a run-around of sorts on things. I sure hope things worked out for Brent; like so many others that I met on my trip, he was a good down-to-earth chap, and meeting him and the rest certainly colored my experience in a most pleasant way.

I waved a few times as I drove off toward Dillon and the happy confines of a Super8 Motel.