When your guide friend texts you one afternoon with the message “You busy tomorrow?”, you know something good is in store. You kind of start smiling involuntarily, and that smile gets even wider when you learn about a 5:00 am departure for the Henry’s Fork in pursuit of salmonflies the following morning. Even though I was in Billings helping a friend move all day and was going to get in really late, this was one of those deals you just can’t turn down.
Since this would be the first trip in God’s country since my return, I set an alarm for 3:30 so I could get all my stuff in order before hand. Let me tell you, that rolls around pretty damn fast when you get in late. But, the anticipation and excitement of a fishing trip is much more effective than even strong coffee to get you out of bed and get going.
My fishing partners for the day were Ken Stock and a guy I had never met named Dave. Ken and I have known each other for a while but we have never had the chance to get out on the water until now. I could tell right away that Dave was my kind of people, and that we were all going to get along pretty well. The drive down to the Henry’s Fork is damn beautiful, especially after being away from it for so long. We took the Ennis route, and watching the sun rise over the mountains is a sight to behold. I could watch that every day for the rest of my life and it would never get old.
The day dawned clear and cold, and we had high hopes as we stopped for a fishing license and breakfast sandwich. For someone who has lived so close to it for so long, it is kind of shameful that I had never fished the Henry’s Fork until now. Hell, I hadn’t even fished in Idaho since I was a little kid. Part of that is having a shitty, unreliable car for so long and part of that is just having so much great water in Montana. But the Henry’s Fork is special. It is one of those places that every trout fisherman needs to cross off the list.
One of my goals with fishing has long been to fish with people who are better and “fishier” than I am. You can learn more in a day with a couple of better fisherman than you can in months or years or reading articles and watching instructional videos. Watching Ken and Dave fish, I learned a ton. Flows were down to about half of what they were last time Ken had floated this stretch and it got pretty skinny in a few places. The water was just a tich off color too, which no one on the boat minded.
The day started a little slow, but over the course of a few hours we were able to bring a few fish to the boat. My first fish upon my return to the West? A whitefish. A bruiser of a whitefish, but a whitefish none the less. Ha. When the fish started rising to the thingamabobbers, we switched to a dry dropper rig. I haven’t chased the salmonfly hatch in years and had forgotten the joys of throwing a dry that that floats like a battleship and is two inches long. That will never get old.
Dave managed to coax a few fish to the surface, but as we looked around on the bank we found a ton of empty husks. We were just a little too late. Even though the fish were gorged, there were still a few willing to eat just a little more. The highlight of the day was probably the nice double that Dave and I managed to pull off. (The real highlight of the day was the superb Gin and Tonic Ken made for us. But more about that on Thursday).
We all had a blast. And when it comes down to it, that’s what really matters. For the first time fishing the Henry’s Fork, I would call this a damn successful trip. Fished with some great guys, caught some nice fish, explored new water, and got a good sunburn too. Yep, not too shabby a way to spend a Friday.
Last two photos by Ken Stock.
