Every now and then you just need to have one of those days that really gets you fired back up about fishing. It’s always fun and interesting, but you need those days when it’s just lights out good to really keep you hooked. I had one of those days last week.
I haven’t gotten much fishing in this year. With work, girlfriend, work, and other demands on my time I just haven’t found the time I usually do to get outside and on the water. Plus, working in the industry and talking fishing all day, on my days off occasionally I just want to get away from the sport for a while. When you’re constantly surrounded by something, even something you love, it can almost make you a little burnt out. Almost.
But when news of the big bugs hits, you have to go look for them.
It just so happened to line up that my one day off last week was the day or two after Salmonflies had first appeared on the Gallatin in any kind of numbers. We had heard good reports at the shop, and all I wanted to do was go up there and throw big dry flies. So off I went.
The first stop was at a place I have had good days before and I saw a decent number of shucks on the willows and even a few adults in the bushes. One slow take on the dry and an hour later, I moved upriver. Where the Salmonflies are concerned, if there aren’t many around, move upriver. Onward.
Next up was a spot I have driven past and always wanted to fish for years, but have never made the effort to check it out. I’m glad I did this time. My first six casts yielded six strikes, all of which I missed. (I’m not ashamed to admit that). There were bugs everywhere. For the next four hours I made a big loop up and down the river, around an island, catching fish. One spot would get worked over and by the time I made it back it was rested and ready to go again. It was just nuts. Best of all, I only saw three other anglers all day.
Afternoon showers moved in and I decided to call it a day when a big bolt of lightning hit the mountains a quarter mile away. There is nothing like the sound of loud thunder echoing through the mountains. As much as I wanted to stay and enjoy the storm, I knew it was best to get out of there.
Honestly, I lost track of how many fish were caught that day. I do know that I missed twice as many. By some miracle I fished the same fly all day and didn’t lose it. It now has a permanent home on the roof of my car. None of the fish were too large, the biggest being around 16 inches. That doesn’t matter though.
What really matters is the fact that I felt more excited about fishing than I have in a long time. Those days that save your spirit for the sport are the ones that stay with you. It was the best day I’ve ever had on the Gallatin, and I’m sure it’ll keep me coming back for many, many years to come.
