I recently returned from a trip to the Bighorn River in Montana, a world away from my usual haunts as a fly fisherman in New England. The experience was a stark contrast to my normal fishing trips, where I often struggle to catch even a handful of salmonids in a day. But in Montana, the prospects were different. I had the opportunity to fish with expert guides who knew the river intimately, and the results were impressive.
The Bighorn River offers a chance to catch wild, hard-fighting rainbow and brown trout, with sizes of 16-18 inches being the norm. This is a far cry from my local streams, where I'm lucky to catch a 16-inch brook trout or salmon in a day. It's a reminder that I need to recalibrate my expectations and appreciate the smaller, more elusive fish that I'm used to targeting.
However, this trip also made me realize the importance of self-sufficiency in fishing. While the guides did most of the heavy lifting, I still had to make decent casts, hook the fish, and play them. It's a fine line between relying on guides and standing on my own two feet. I enjoy concierge fishing at bucket-list destinations, but I also need to fish locally and appreciate the smaller fish that can be subdued by a wispy 3-weight fly rod.
This realization led me to seek out native brook trout in the White Mountains. These are bony, boulder-strewn trickles, often only eight or ten feet wide, where a four-foot long, two-foot deep pool is cause for excitement. Reaching them usually requires some hiking and plenty of rock-hopping, and long casts are unnecessary. Instead, I use a short, whippy 3-weight rod with a slip-ring reel seat.
My recent fishing trip with a new friend, Matt, who is active in the Native Fish Coalition, was a great success. We hit a couple of small, unheralded brooks, and I was amazed by the survival skills and tenacity of these little brookies. I learned to fish pretty much any water that is wet, and my usual fly selection was not complicated. However, the trout clearly preferred Matt's size 12 Royal Wulff to my size 16.
Despite my initial struggles, I eventually got into fish, and the strikes were lightning quick. I came up empty more than half the time, but the experience was rewarding. The brook was full of three-to-five-inch trout, and I caught a few larger specimens, including a five-inch trout that rocketed a great distance to intercept my offering and struck it with unbridled enthusiasm. It felt good to be back on my home waters, and the experience brought with it a healthy dose of perspective.
In conclusion, my trip to Montana was a valuable lesson in recalibrating expectations and appreciating the smaller, more elusive fish that I'm used to targeting. It's a reminder that fishing is a journey of self-discovery and that the joy of the sport lies in the pursuit, not just the catch.
