When are you leaving a place and planning a move, you start thinking about the things you have enjoyed the absolute most and will really miss. For me, one of those things was fishing with Shane on the great trout rivers. We’ve spent a lot of time on the water, and have had some absolutely great times.
How do you put a satisfactory end to something like that?
We decided to hit Between the Lakes on the Upper Madison. It is far enough away from town to really make it a “trip”, and the fishing can be just freaking awesome. With it being fall, we also knew we had a pretty good shot at some big ass fish too. The truck was loaded up on Friday, I was crashing in Shane and Steve’s extra bedroom, and we had all day Saturday to make it a good day.
This being big water, and with me moving to the coast two days later, I broke out the Spey rod again. I don’t know what the hell I am doing with it, but my poor attempts at a Snap T cast were good enough to get some distance and good, long swings in the river. We were the first ones on the water, right at dawn. It was pretty damn cold, and clear as a bell.
The first fish of the day was also my last. But what a fish she was. I made my cast, threw a big mend in the line and then was playing around with all my loose running line when I looked up and noticed my line had stopped moving. I gave it a tug, expecting to feel a snag. Instead I felt the head shake that can only come from a big fish. She bent my rod double for more than a few minutes before I finally brought her in.
She was an honest to God 24” beautiful, dark, richly colored brown. By far and away the biggest brown I’ve ever caught. We carefully took a bunch of pictures and marveled at the sight. Shortly after she swam away, Shane tied into a pig of a brown himself. As he fought the fish, sunlight finally hit the canyon, bathing everything in a golden glow that is a photographer’s dream. Many pictures were taken and pats on the back were given. Since all this happened in the first hour we figured it was going to be a killer day.
Not quite so much. We spent the next 7 or 8 hours on the water, pulling only a couple smallish whitefish from the depths. I did hook one big fish on my switch rod a little further down the river. I put a Hardy Cascapedia reel on that switch, and while it looks sexy, it has no fish stopping at all. Shane was across the river and said it sounded like that scene in A River Runs Through It where Paul hooks the big fish and swims after it. Reel loudly screaming, I chased the fish downstream, only to have the hook pop out after it swam over and through some rougher water. Taking a closer look, the hook on my Mega Prince was bent straight….
Once we got back to the car, Shane decided it would be a good idea to take some group photos to commemorate the end of an era. In all of them, I ended up looking remarkably serious. Probably because if I had tried to smile I probably would have broken down.. We ended up with some good ones though.
The day’s fishing done, over 1300 pictures taken, beers drunk and backpacking meals eaten, we headed back to Bozeman. I may have only caught one last trout in Montana, but what a fish. And what a day to end it on. The morning I drove out, I left a little note on the dry erase board on the fridge at Shane and Steve’s place. Below it, I hung my old fishing hat.
Somehow it seemed fitting.
Photos by Shane Rickert and Jake McGlothlin
