
Big bugs over Emigrant Peak!
After a day of taking care of some house hold chores it was back to the Yellowstone for another day on the river. I was excited when I pulled up the necessary websites to check flows, weather forecast and a live feed photo of the Yellowstone river in the early morning hours. Flows continued to drop, the weather was calling for my favorite temperature of 74 degrees and the river appeared to be cleaner than it was yesterday. I arrived at the turn to Big Creek a bit early so I rigged a couple of rods as the tunes from the guy across the highway blared the local college radio station loud enough to drown out the vehicles traveling on Hwy 89. Wayne pulled up right on time and had another guest from the ranch with him. I greeted both of them and Wayne introduced me to Keith. We were not sure if we had met before but it turns out that I have fished with his wife and his father in law on other trips. We loaded the gear and headed for the Carbella Ramp with high expectations of catching fish on Salmonflies. The big bugs were thick near the 26 mile ramp and we hoped that the hatch had made the migration upstream to our put in point.
We arrived at the boat ramp and there were only a couple of other boats rigging rods and launching their boats. I was expecting to see a full boat ramp and was pleasantly surprised that it was not crowded. I started to rig the boat and the crowds that were mysteriously absent upon our arrival made a precession into the access just minutes after we arrived. A half dozen rigs pulled into the ramp while we were getting the boat ready. Fortunately there were casting lessons, rod rigging and boat setup that most of them had to accomplish and we made it into the water and shoved off before most of them even knew we were there.
The river clarity was much better than the day before and as we shoved off I carefully scanned the willows for signs of life. We started off with two different colored Chubby Chernobly’s trailed with bead head droppers. I anticipated that the rods would be bent right out of the gate and after the first mile of the float my anticipation turned into concern since we hadn’t had even a sniff from a fish. We finally got our first look from a fish about a mile into the float, which helped ease my wandering mind that the fish were not going to come up to a dry. The fishing continued on a very slow pace until we hit the highway bridge and our break for a sandwich with all the fixings, chips, cherries and chocolate chip cookies.
After lunch it was time to make a change and get the rods bent. I switched Keith up to a nymph rig and it only took us a few hundred yards to get a fish to eat. “El Blanco” once again saved the day, the rest of the float had consistent pulls on the sindicator! As we hit the ramp many of the bugs from the previous day started to pop off the water. Green drakes, Goldenstones, caddis, yellow sallies and salmonflies all of the sudden made an appearance as we hit the 26 mile ramp. The bushes were dripping with Salmonflies and I managed to get a nice shot of a Green Drake that landed on the floor of my boat.

Western Green Drake
The fishing was less than anticipated but with 75 degree weather, good conversation with plenty of laughs, you’d be hard pressed to find a complaint. Keith caught a bunch of whitefish, picked up a few new tricks and Wayne got to relax and enjoy being outside on such a marvelous day.
I dropped them off at their vehicle and made my way back to Bozeman. As I drove down the Paradise Valley mesmerized by it’s beauty my phone rang and it was my friend back in town who wanted to know if we were still on for a guy’s night on the lake. My buddy Rusty and John were ready to hit Hyalite Reservoir for what may well become a weekly occurrence. We must all be getting old because Wednesday Night trolling used to consist of trolling around Whiskey Wednesday at the Rockin R Bar looking for a date. Now we are all married and we spend our night trolling in a 1974 Larson Tri Hull boat with cow bells and worm harnesses. I might need to go see the shrink since I spent a day working on the Yellowstone and then came home to head for a lake to spend some more time fishing, but it was a beautiful evening and my wife insisted that I go out and spend some time with the boy’s!

Rednecks and Patagonia?
The lake was dead calm and we had a couple of hours before the sun went down and darkness set in. There were a few other boats on the lake, including some crazy person that was scuba diving in 54 degree water which has got to get colder as they descend 90 feet of water to find beer cans and stolen goods that high school kids ditched just for lack of anything better to do. I definitely took a double take when I saw the diver down flag floating on the lake. We began our assault on the lake with two rods rigged with cow bells and two rigged with bottom bouncer weights with wedding rings trailed behind them. As John turned on the trolling motor the electronics were reading our speed as O mph. We were moving but not very fast so it was time for a battery change and an increase in our speed. The second battery got us up on plane at a neck breaking speed of 1.4 mph, or the prefect speed for cowbells. We immediately got our first bite as John reeled in the first fish of the night, a brightly colored cutthroat of about 10 inches. I was next in line to get a bite and landed a beauty of my own that registered a little better than a “Yanni” fish on the new Idylwilde “How Badass are You?” tape measure that I have prominently displayed in my drift boat. As the night continued my cowbells rang one after another as I had the deadly dare devil blade flashing in front of my worm harness. My hot hand quickly cooled off as the line snapped while reeling in a monster, it was really due to the crappy line I had on my beat up spin rod.

Cutthroats love Cowbells!
We ended the night with a 12 pack of empty bottles and 6 to 8 fish that we released back into the lake to swim another day. I am looking forward to next weeks “Wednesday Night Trolling” which will hopefully add another boat and a whole new group of heckling buddies that can give each other grief.