The other day, during the big push to get the first issue of Swing the Fly done, I needed a break. And what better way to get a break than to go fishing? So Shane and I piled into his car and headed north.
The creek we fished is one of those you hear about now and then back in Bozeman, but no one really seems to say much about it. In other words, just my kind of water. It also flows through one of the biggest ranches in the area, and they are quite anal about access and have been known to hassle anglers just because.
It was a scorcher that day, and the AC in Shane’s rattletrap doesn’t quite work. The water sounded, looked, and felt oh so good when we finally stepped in. However, much of the creek was just barely deep enough to cover an ankle. And this was almost two weeks ago. The first deeper run we came to, Shane couldn’t resist cooling off bit:
The bottom of the creek was almost completely covered with a thick mossy weed. With the low flows and hot weather this year, this place could be in some serious trouble. The water felt like bathwater, even in the deeper runs and pools. Unfortunately, much of the state is about to be in the same boat…
The fishing was shitty for a couple hours, but as soon as the sun went behind the hills, fish started rising. I was fishing my 2-weight rod for just this occasion. Even Shane, Mr. Streamer and Nymph, tied on a dry fly. The next hour or so was filled with hoots and hollers, taunts, and congrats.
It’s evenings like this that really make me love dry fly fishing. Small water, small rod, small flies, and small-ish fish. You see a rise, you call it out, get a good drift and watch that little head come up and sip it. Bloop.
My biggest fish of the night was probably no larger than 13 or 14 inches, but he peeled line of my little reel and bent my rod almost double. It’s amazing though, the adrenaline rush even small fish can produce when they hit a dry fly. There’s nothing like it.
As the darkness closed in on us, we made it back to the car and cracked a couple beers as we put everything up. It had been a good evening, and just the break I needed. I’m sure by now that little creek is too warm, weedy and low to fish. But this fall when things cool off.. I’ll be back.
