A short essay about the future of fly fishing, from the boys at Yellow Tree Fly Fishing

 “Should we fish the Mo today, or go do something weird in bear country?” “Should we drink PBR for breakfast, or go with the classic bacon, eggs, and Jim Beam combo?” Two questions – the only two that ever seem to come up in conversation in Craig, Mt.  Don’t get me wrong, we talk about fishing a lot, we just happen to drink while we do it. When we aren’t working in the shop, you can be pretty certain that we are getting after it on a stream somewhere. 

There is plenty of ridiculously good water within two hours of Craig. Yet, the natural first choice will always be the Missouri River. Our campers (total pieces of shit) are a double haul away from the Mo. The main persuader though is the fact that some of the most prolific hatches in North America occur on the Mo. Thousands of fish per mile all looking up to the surface for their next meal. There are so many Caddis that you are practically breathing them in during the thick of the afternoon hatch, and Trico columns in the morning that look like clouds of smoke. The water is completely covered in bugs, and the fish will sip dries all day during most of the summer. Afternoon floats can be pure insanity with loads of fish in the twenty-inch range on dries, and plenty of shenanigans on the boat. People flock from all over to try their luck at the huge dry fly eating monsters that lurk in the Mo. Unfortunately for people like us, temporary Craig locals, that means big crowds of middle-aged men hogging our favorite spots. This sudden surge of old dudes is also known as the güggen hatch, and it is prolific. We mean wow, holy shit it’s bad. To escape the madness, we head to more unknown locations with some bear spray and beer (must haves for all Montana adventures). 

If you look at a map of Western Montana you will see land riddled with thin blue lines. It is an endless labyrinth of fresh water passageways that carve through some of the wildest terrain on Earth. The trout, and the water they occupy should never be underestimated. Truly wild trout can be found if you search hard enough. When we say wild, we mean fish that are only casted at a handful of times per year, or less. Imagine trout up to two feet long sitting in slot canyons and pools, miles away from roads, crushing flies without a care in the world. This is reality in Western Montana for those who have the drive to search where others do not.

Usually, the booze gets the best of us on the late nights when we are up planning what we are going to do on the upcoming off days. Inevitably, our conversations spiral into all sorts of weirdness. We have noticed a reoccurring discussion that is relevant to Western Montana backcountry fishing. Simply put, sometimes we demolish affordable beer and talk about how we wish people would go explore more often.

There is a sense of pride that comes from finding something on your own. One of the main aspects that created fly-fishing was adventure, a concept that has been lost in recent years by the majority of anglers. Too often we see people on social media asking, “Where is this?” Maybe to some people that seems like a harmless question, but to us it is kind of a bummer. The easy way has somehow become the popular way. Yes, we are part of the new generation of fly fishermen, but does that mean we have to ignore how our predecessors did things? Absolutely not. If you want to find a badass fishing spot, then go find one. Don’t go asking people on the Internet where to fish, but instead pick up a map! Study that fucking thing! Find a creek, circle that damn blue line with a sharpie, and go conquer it. It is up to us to keep fly-fishing awesome. Respect the fish you catch, stay humble about your abilities, and above all else, remember that people have fly fished before us, and it is all of our responsibilities to make sure people are able to experience the sport after we are gone.