Moe Bird Hunts

A Good Year...

2012-01-08T13:47:00.001-08:00

...
All in all I cant complain. While it was a tough one for most everyone else I talked to; for me it was about the best one I can recall in at least ten.

I had a steady job at a fly shop I loved, which gave me just the right amount of time-off to use the new boat, and float down area rivers over 40 times.

I visited several new waters and stretches I'd not fished before, and met dozens of new fishing friends in the process.

..When hunting season came I got out about as often as I wanted and even though we didn't get an elk or big buck; me and the girls bagged plenty of birds and visited all corners of this great state while 'seeing and photographing' some neat things along the way.

On our very last trip of the year the weather was also about perfect, an odd and sunny 38 degrees on January one, but a little windier than I would have prefered...(gusts of 40 plus).

Oh it was a long way for only one rooster, but the girls pointed several hens and we had a pretty neat time together exploring some new ground.

I usually dont like to think' about such things, but its safe to say for every bird we bagged this season, we logged at least 50 miles-per... and I couldn't help but do so on the long ride back...

We certainly didn't get them all and left some for next year I think its safe to say; these late-season birds flushed a hundred yards out on at least three occasions.

"&%$#"!!

Still, I found this past year to be about near perfect, and just what I imagined they'd all be like when I moved out here some 3.5 ago.

They haven't all been so swell, but I have even higher hopes for this next year; so we shall see...?

"High-five Suzie!"

The dawn of a new day in 2012...

Here's hoping yours' is a great one too!

Moe

"Where in the World have you been..?"

2011-12-30T16:33:00.000-08:00

This' was likely the question both would've asked; if they could speak...

Though I made it clear I missed them too, and loved em up something good, Suzie especially seemded kinda pissed as to "why I left her in a kennel for the past two weeks...?!"

With a visible tan and the smell of sea salt and airplane food it was clear I'd gone somwhere they'd never been before; so without the benefit of actual two-way conversation to explain I'd been in Florida visiting my folks; I instead just loaded them both up' and headed toward where birds were as quick as I could..

Within two hours we had arrived at the preserve and had our first bird in the bag and 'both were over-joyed at being back amongst their best buddy' (me)...or at least I like to think so..

We took four nice roosters and each were actually challenging; given the occasional 30 mile-per-hour gusts, and if it weren't for a complete dimsantle and cleaning of the old pump-shotgun, I'd have never likely hit a one; as 'all four were taken on the second shot' each (meaning I shot 8 shells and still scratched down four birds).

"%$#@ I need a new gun"!?

Regardless of my limted finances, and now lack of steady employment, along with shorting myslef on groceries a bit to pay this month's rent; I wasn't gonna cheat my girls out of a day where we actually see and shoot some birds.

..Tomorrow and the next day (last two of the season) are another story, as its raining like a son of a gun out there right now, but I'm addicted to this shit and have a full tank of gas ....so we're headed toward the Southeast of Montana first thing in the morning

...and hoping to find a wild one or two...

Moe
.

Part 2...Ranch Hunt Continued...

2011-12-14T18:31:00.001-08:00

We got and early start this time too, leaving Bozeman at 6AM

....

Suzie gets a little scratch behind the ears from Alex..

Unfortunately she was mauled by a dip shit Golden Retriever that tore up her precious face, not ten %$# damned minutes after we arrived?!

"%$#@*"!!

I knew when Alex casually mentioned there'd be another dog present when we departed that morning something like this would probably happen, but I kept my cool (and lived to regret it). It never fails, other dogs just love to dominate the little gal whose about as innocent and nieve as they come, and its usually when she simply goes up to strange dogs to introduce herself like all doggys do and all hell breaks lose when that dog is agressive. It doesnt matter whether they be males or females they tear her face open and she looks up at me everytime with that look like "WTF"?

"...why did he do that?"

It also never helps to ask the dogs owner whether their dog is agressive as they always lie and say no; even though they know damned well it is. Then after the inevitable attack, they act all like:"..Gee thats weird he's never done that before..?"

"Bullshit!"

Never again. I will never again have another dog near her. I owe it to her to protect her from these animals and the next dog that does it is dead.

...

So poor Suzie got the morning off and had to sit in the truck most of it, so her bleeding would stop, the EMT ointment would dry, and the three open punctures wouldn't get too dirty.

And Mocha was ready to go...

Unfortunately the river bottom on the ranch is nearly void of pheasants this year too, due to a poor wild hatch; so though she did point one single rooster it made an escape out the backdoor and we never even fired a shot.

She later pointed two hens which held tight for me to flush, then stared at me puzzled I didn't shoot at those either, and we went back to have lunch...no birds bagged thus far.

....

During the day we stumbled upon no less than 30 dead deer, usually around water, as EHD took a heavy toll on the ranch this year (refer to one of my earlier posts on the subject for more info).

....

Now it was Suzie's turn and she put on a good show considering her ordeal earlier in the morning (me constantly checking her wounds, making sure they were well cleaned).

We walked until our feet hurt and even switched dogs again, as tired as each got, but didn't find birds till the last light of day..

And boy did we find them. We entered what amounted to a field of dreams that held well over twenty sharptails easy, and scattered fifty yards apart, along with singles here and there; so a few actually held for Suzie and us to shoot at.

While most 'flushed wild' way out of range, given its late seaosn and they've been hunted before, more than a few should have come to bag; but we just couldn't connect. What was pure comedy at first; with both of us being caught with "safety on" when we pulled up but no shot came on chip shots, it soon was rather depressing as our combined shooting-skills sucked. Not to mention my old beater pump finally failed me and jammed repeatedly while trying to eject shells, but thats just another excuse for my misses on two more easy chip shots.

I tagged and bagged one single bird and then we headed home. Bad bite, bad shooting, but one cant complain when its 38 in December and we get to hunt the ranch; a priveldge I dont take lightly and thank Alex once again.

....

Got one more hunt planned this weekend, then off for Christmas holiday, then back for one last 'road trip' on the closer (Jan 1st).

More Photo Essays to come...

Moe

Ranch Hunt...

2011-12-12T18:54:00.000-08:00

..."Part 1"

......

First of all, let me apologise for my last 'abreviated post' where some of you likely reached a blank page this week; if coming off another blogs' link...

- Reason for this was kinda cool, for me at least, as the last photo essay I posted only lasted a couple days before thankfully I was contacted 'via email' with someone wanting to buy it (the photos); on the condition they be "originals" as far as the internet goes; so I was forced to pull them.

Hey man's gotta eat and I'm as broke as they come these days.

So this' is whats left of that Photo-Essay...LOL

More than a few caught the original pics on that Sunday I posted it, and even a couple actually "commmented"; which I always appreciate (even though doing-so is a huge headache, I understand; given the spam blocking requirements on these blogs).

It was a fun time for sure, for both me and the girls, and we did it again the next week as well (Part 2 coming soon)...

We'll all see those pics again come February I hope, and nobody will be too concerned about this I'm sure cept me...till the check arrives as payment (to heat my single-wide that is).

A special thank you to Alex for inviting me both times (part 1 & 2); as it makes living in Montana during Decemeber bearable; knowing 'we'll hit the ranch a few times after birds'..every year!!

Where was this guy hiding all season..?

On private land of course.

Moe

Tough Year for Whitetail Deer...

2011-11-29T17:04:00.000-08:00

..And a tough year for the deer-hunter too.

Though for us clad in orange, and carrying guns, thing were not quite as tragic of course...

- Montana' this past year recorded one of its worst ever EHD outbreaks' affecting whitetail deer; and in many regions kill-offs were as many as 50% of the herd!

EHD stands for 'epizootic hemorrhagic disease'; which is why hard-core deer hunters call it "EHD" or "blue tongue"; otherwise we'd all sound smart instead of crazed lunatics obsessed with killing big bucks for their antlers.

While death to said deer is ultimately the goal in 'deer hunting', no one wants to see any animal die this way; but such is nature; and she's often as cruel as any of us...(bitch)!

EHD does a real number on deer and its not kind as far as ailments go. It's a virus transmitted to white-tailed deer by biting gnats and once infected takes the life of the deer within a week to ten days usually. Its not transmitted from deer-to-deer as many think, but shows more of an impact when the biting gnats hit in regions over-populated with whitetail deer..as many parts of Montana are (or were) before the outbreak.

With this year’s wet spring and late fall (in Montana), it created conditions for large numbers of the midges to hatch and linger late into the season.

This meant dead deer were found quite regularly by hunters and even anglers this year; as the infected deer go to water as a way to replenish in response to a depletion in body fluids caused by hemorrhaging. Some were even reported found dead beneath the waters' surface; as its theorized they submerge themselves 'to fight off the fever associated with the infection'.

Obviously some survived (as pictured in this PE) and even deer-hunting continued as Montana has had a large population of whitetail deer and they will certainly rebound.

Muledeer,antelope, and elk, also are affected sometimes, but apparently have better imune systems to fight the disease than do whitetails (or so I read).

Some of this was from memory when I dabbled in Fish and Game, but since my memery is about as good as my spelling I gathered a bit too from recent news articles in the local paper to share what we now know about this outbreak.

Some parts of Montana, like the area I actually live in (Region 3), saw no EHD outbreak and wildlife biologists are still trying to figure that one out; as to 'why we are immune on this side of the hill' (Bozeman Pass).

Common sense - at least from my southern perspective would steer toward it being balls cold most of the damned year, but aparently that's not it.

Regardless of the actual reason, I'm still using EHD as an excuse as to why I did not take a monster trophy buck this season; nor an elk either (big surprise on that last part).

In fact, I didn't even take a doe for the freezer since a dozen people offer me venison (and occasionally bison and elk) every year; and then of course had to dodge at least five of the crazy things standing in my driveway - when I pulled in from my last 'hunting trip'.

So I might have to fill one of these 309 antlerless surplus-tags before the year is completely up I guess...just for the sake of doing my part on earth as a deer hunter (can hunt them in Region 3 till Jan 1)?!

....

Oh and for the record: I'd have shot any of these bucks I photographed above (except that little fella in pics 3 & 4), but of course these bad boys all stood there boldy and only let me take their pictures; as they knew they were on private property and I couldn't shoot them with my gun.

- That and these were all taken within the last three days of the season and the rut had turned otherwise elusive bucks into hormone crazed morons.

Moe
.

"Elk and Deer be Damned,....we're going Bird Hunting..."

2011-11-21T15:55:00.000-08:00

With snow drifts up around their elbows:"..A Much deserved' Road Trip" was just what we all needed too I think...

"Good girl"!

And we found warmer climes and some success, in a certain favored corner of Southeastern Montana..

.............

But as things usually go with my spontaneoues plans; the next morning, following a great evening-hunt, was in fact a complete bust.

...........

So we headed elsewhere, and that afternoon things got much better!!

A nice find' for sure...

And a couple nice birds too..

"What's all the commotion about...!?"

Oh my God what a buck this fella took...

Tired and weary we pulled in for the night and slept at a random motel near Big Timber, Montana; before heading north the following day.
......

Anther day, another part of Montana...

"Hey come back here with that"!

Great Falls, MT.
...............

Headed toward the Missouri Breaks..(I'm kinda chasing big deer too, but dont tell the girls..okay..?)

"SHIT" drove all this way and cant shoot a muley after the 13th?".
Being my nature I blamed Montana FWP again for having regs so convoluted in their bloody booklet then ever admit I was wrong damned it!?'...

"Bastages!"...

We road around to see what we could see anyway; even though I held no tags for elk in the region either.

"Looks like an easy climb doesn't it...in 4 wheel-drive.?" - This is what's commonly known as: 'a slide'.

- Until you're on one, you really have no idea what they are when folks' describe them; so I'll just let you find out once you get here...(and good luck)..

.

Let's just say I had to back-track over 22 miles.

We eventually settled in the old wasteland of Lewistown, MT (actually a pretty nice place except I have an unfortunate history here; I'd rather not dwell on..).

Suffice to say I still, after 3 years, dont feel too comfortable even being seen there in daylight...

So the next morning, as early as we could, we left that part of central Montana and headed for home' (chilly as it was)...

I knew of one good-spot though along the way, and let Suzie out to prove her skills on a few nice birds 'that always seemed to be there; when I needed them the most...'

...She did great on-point and then ran wild with her success; although I'm not sure she could even see where she was going at one point???...

Still no Huns for the effort on this trip, as their numbers in the two coveys we found were already well depleted and few. So we stuck with the sharptails and roosters that seemed more plentiful and came home with near a half-dozen of each.

At the conclusion of our 'road trip' Suzie seemed content, though looked toward the horizon and setting sun as if to say: "I hope this isn't the end of the season..?!'

So I gave her a scratch behind the ears and assured her it wasn't, and then reminded her..."we still have a whole month left to go..."

Moe
.

A Day Trip after Bucks and Birds....

2011-11-12T17:30:00.000-08:00

The three young muley bucks I passed', hoping to see something bigger before the end of the season...the 3 sharptails I did not however.

Not exactly 'pheasant country' per say this trip, and no huns seen which was unusual; but within the next two weeks we should have some on the menu...(I hope)..

Moe
.

Finally got after some birds....

2011-11-05T18:33:00.000-07:00

..and the girls are ready for more..!!!

Temps were chilly and winds were near epic, but we decided to give it a go anyway..

I split the costs for gas with my friend and coworker Allen from the shop and we tried a spot he knew about that likely held birds; and had some success!

"Nice hat dude!?"

Cold as it was and winds at 40+, Mocha still worked hard enough she apparently felt a chilly dip in a farm pond was in order...

"Good Girl.."

"Now do your victory dance.."!

"Team-work.."

"Winner"!

Spotted a nice rooster crossing a road while we were driving along it, so we stopped quickly and put Suzie down for 'the sure thing';...and she didn't disappoint us!

Mocha's somewhere in there - on point!

It was a great time and I cant wait to go again; and think its safe to say both of the girls can't either...?!!

Moe

.

"I’m so Broke all I can do is Elk Hunt…"

2011-10-29T18:17:00.000-07:00

..That those words actually came out of my mouth, without a hint of intended sarcasism still has me shaking my head...

I was explaining why I hadnt been taking the girls out after birds yet this season' with a coworker named Allen when it was mentioned. He's a local of Bozeman, born and raised, and understood without even hesitating; before we continued on in our conversation about hunting and fishing (as thats pretty much all we talk about at the fly shop).

..It was a few minutes later when I stopped and had a chuckle to myself at what I'd just said and the pure absurdity of it all'...especially given everything I went through to get up here to my lifelong dream state of Montana, and to now be complacent enough I'm essentially bitching - 'I can only afford to hunt elk instead of birds' when I'm off work for a few days every week.(at a frickin fly shop)..?!

Thats not the kind of thing one should take lightly, myself especially as I could - had I not decided to throw caution to the wind instead stayed where I was unhappy - be doing something far less atttractive right now in this crazy world...

Truth is, I couldn’t have wished for a better predicament to be in and like nearly everyone else out there, have certainly faced far worse over the years leading up to this.

..And so since moving to this part of Montana I find solace in the mountains surrounding town, when things get especially tight and my future doesn’t look so bright compared to others more financially fortunate. So I go elk hunting or chase mule-deer; or at least dress the part' and do an awful lot of exhaustive hiking around areas where I see tracks and poop that is.

Sad fact is I really am flat broke and busted (again), and now with my hours being cut back already at the fly shop; it looks like this' Winter will require some sort of additional 'odd job' to get me through it.

"%$#@"

...

All that concern can wait till December though, and even if I dont have the funds to pay all my bills and rent, or gas and motel to take long trips this season; I can jump in the pickup truck on any given afternoon and be in and amongst elk within 40 minutes if I plan it right(?).

Never a bad thing as long as you’re not a Brittany or GSP living in the same household; then you’re bummed – big time!

Worse, I’ve twice in the past two weeks laid my shotgun and vest near the door, torturing the two of them as I thought I could swing a bird-hunt, but then went elk hunting instead. I’m usually gung-ho the night before and will even promise them both “we’re going hunting”, but then I awake and sadly determine “a road-trip just isn’t in the budget” (note- Bozeman has little to no public bird-hunting available).

.......

I’m also fishing a lot less since my accident. I was wading below the Dam on the Lower Madison about two weeks ago and took a tumble in amongst the boulders I won’t soon forget. In the fall I nearly broke my neck, leg, and brand new Winston B-IIIX in that order.

Little known fact, when guys who can’t afford $700.00 fly rods work in fly shops selling them; once they sell enough (12) they’re rewarded with a complimentary one (custom engraved no less, so I can’t then sell it on Craig’s List to pay my rent – which sucks as I'd been debating doing so).

Since it arrived right about the time I was in hunting-mode and nothing else, I decided last minute to “give it a go..”

Bad idea, not only was the fishing less than stellar, when I slipped on the slick rocks in the rain and smacked my skull and twisted my knee to where the bottom of my boot was up around my shoulder; I determined I’d likely never walk-and-wade ever again and instead - stick to drift-boat fishing from here on out (all this becoming much clearer after my concussion finally subsided that is).

(Above was taken only minutes before I fell)

(Ennis Lake at Dusk)

......

And so I’m now in my fourth week of elk season and still at it. I came very close to tagging one with bow two weeks back, but passed on the small calf at forty yards, as I was waiting for momma or something bigger to choose the same path.

Nothing did, but I knew they were nearby and rewarded with the sight of two cows and two calves the very next day, but was unaware I was hunting illegally at the time; until the following day when a coworker pointed it out.

"Wait what..?"

...Yes, it appears there’s a ‘7-Day no hunting period’ between bow and gun-seasons' (as stupid as that sounds) and so I was apparently not even supposed to be there – in full camo, bow in hand, and watching this parade of elk - as they teased me into thinking they would still be nearby' every single day since then and I not surprisingly haven’t seen hide nor hair of them since...

Didn’t help not a week later, once I made sure I was complying with all of Montana’s absurd regulations, which to fully understand require a four-year college degree I don’t have, I went to “the exact same spot” and found a dozen college kids playing &%$#@ paint ball on the second day of Opening Weekend!

Not happy and feeling like maybe shooting one of them (as “they did look like critters running around in full black Ninja camo…”); I instead wisely decided not to, but called the Montana Poaching Tips Hotline and threatened to do so if I ever saw them out there again.

With my hours cut the way they are currently, it appears I’ll have about 15 of the 30-something days remaining in the Montana Big Game Season to continue to pursue elk and deer; but am pretty sure I’ll fit a few of those into chasing after birds since my two girls won’t last another week without accompanying me on one of these camo-clad adventures...

Moe

"A bad day of fishing...

2011-10-16T19:35:00.000-07:00

...is better than a good day of work any day".

Grabbed the boat for a quick float on the Yellowstone with the intention of getting some pics of the Fall colors and of course getting into some fish..

I invited Tom and another college kid I know from the shop named Travis, and we had a great time!

The colors weren't as expected and neither was the fishing. I think the trees need maybe another week to come into their epic foliage I had witnessed last Fall; and the browns haven't quite gotten into the right mood either..

We managed a mere 12 fish to the boat (on a 6 mile float) and that included mostly small cuttys and at least 4 white fish - none of which I bothered pulling the camera out for;..convinced as I was we'd eventually catch something bigger..?

We didn't, but still had a blast and though I intend to now 'finally squeeze some hunting into the mix this upcoming weekend'; this wont be our last float down the Stone and that's for sure.

Moe

Lower Madison....

2011-10-09T18:50:00.000-07:00

Calm before the Storm...

I lifted the suspension on Tom after only one week because honestly we get along as good or better than most of the other guys I float with.
Granted he's young enough to be my son, but I'm immature enough we sound like brothers...

...That and after learning the oars right there with me (on over a dozen trips this season); he now rows better than any of the others' so far combined.

The storm was coming and a major one at that, but I thought we might be able to sneak in a short float on the Lower Maddy and went for it...

We did surprisingly well, given what we were up against weather-wise; and in just 2.5hours before we took out.

It wasnt the cold as bad as the wind and rain combined, along with a ramp that was closed (Cherry Creek, which is being modernized apparently); and having to make-do by pulling out at a primitive campsite instead. Plus wanting to get home before the snow really set in that evening.

Not surprisngly however, when I awoke the following day the mountains surrounding my home were, and are still, now blanketed in the thick white stuff; and its not likely it'll be melting anytime soon.

..Oh well, I enjoyed the heck out of this past Summer fishing as much as I did; I knew it wouldn't last forever, but thankfully 'the memories will'.

Moe
.

Missouri River...

2011-10-02T20:39:00.001-07:00

...Better too late than never...

.....

On a whim (and a couple good reports), I called a guy on my list of folks to float with named Arty, and we were on our way...

All the while dodging antelope that appeared to be in RUT, on the trip up toward Helena...
.....

We arrived in the tiny town of Craig and checked out some local fly shops -(the town) has at least five all within fifty feet of each other - but my favorite was Headhunters; as they seemed most knowledgeable and hooked us up with proven patterns and informed us of 'the short-leash method' guides were using to catch fish.

They also informed us they "had fourteen trips out that day"; so when we got to the Dam, we knew we were in trouble when we spied at least 20 more (boats) a few hundred yards down (just out of frame).

They call it “the Shit Show” and for good reason, as before us were no less than 32 drift boats (I counted) hovering over an area roughly 200 yards long and only 50 yards wide and all seemingly working in a choreographed sequence to catch as many of the fish stacked beneath them by the thousands; and doing so quite well it seemed as double-hookups were spotted all around as 'the bite was clearly on’.

What appeared to the untrained eye to be a seamless group of boaters and anglers all happily getting along and working as a team, was far from it the closer you got to the chaos as slurs' were hurled freely and cursing seemed par for the course.

The guides seemed to have the system down pat, but were also the ones throwing around the most expletives when some interloper who was just trying to enjoy what the Missouri offered; attempted to ‘ease into the pack’ and God forbid got even slightly out of sequence - when he foolishly tried to take a picture of a big fish Arty caught - which meant letting off the oars for more than a few seconds....

"Hey you sorry &%$#@"...!

The shit show pretty much comes down to this – the drift boats would float sometimes a mere ten or at the most twenty feet from each other with anglers on-board casting toward the outer banks and then once they reach a certain tail-out point - get over between the two visible thick mats of weeds, suspended in the middle of the river, and 'row like sons of bitches back upstream' only twenty feet apart - until they reached some invisible point where they let off the oars and drifted back outside ...and the flotilla continued without end for hours at a time.

Without built-in rearview mirrors for the rowers’ seat, and/or constantly turning around so you don’t ram into one another; it’s a cluster&%$# of massive proportions I just couldn’t, and wouldn’t want to get into ever again.

Being from the South I felt obliged to hurl my own share of expletives around as well, complete with threatening life and limb if they wanted to pursue it further on shore, and it was at least nice to know Arty 'had my back' he said (though thankfully no one took us up on the offer).

Because of this I recommend if you ever get an opportunity or invite to do it you turn it down and try a different stretch of river on the Missouri below Craig' or elsewhere in the state maybe. Especially if it’s your first trip up here to Montana, as it has the real potential to turn you off in such a way you never want to come back.

...Or its possible this is exactly what you want when you come up for a float, and if numbers are what your after then “a 60 fish day” on the Missouri might be the just the trip to book (those fellas catching that many didnt seem upset about it at all).

For the most part though, we had the river about to oursleves' once we passed by the chaos just below the Dam. Only problem being the hopper fishing, though it was apparently 'the best they'd had in years up there', was now officially over (and the weeds at this low a flow have now taken over).

Still, as the last frame above shows, there's a whole lot of the Missouri River yet unseen by myself or the new boat; and judging by the looks of the amazing canyon ahead...'one that I will be revisiting again very soon.'

Moe
.

My Epic Elk, deer, and monster fish ..."Fail"....

2011-09-25T20:48:00.001-07:00

.....

Day one of my 3 Days off...

I decide to bear hunt in what I know to be "elk country" (first mistake)...

The mountain I must climb...

The 'view' from as far as I'm willing to go, as big and out of shape as I am...

Tight courters in pure Griz Country had me on-edge the whole day, so I was glad to be packing my .270 instead of my bow; which I left back in the truck (mistake number 2)..

...And of course after four hours of stalking through dense underbrush and over rocky terrain with 'my gun at the ready', I grew tired and stopped briefly at an outcropping to rest, take a few pictures, and have drink...Only to look down the trail I'm actually standing on, and see a huge cow elk heading my way...

"%$#@"

At this distance she's at 30 yards and completely unaware I'm in the world..

She's now at 25 steps and wondering what that 'thing' is over there taking snappy pics of her and decides to get the hell out of town before I can take anymore..

Or shoot her with my gun, which I'll admit did cross my mind for a split second or two..

The hike back to the truck wasn't nearly as long as the lonely ride home - empty handed - and cursing myself' the entire way...

...

Day two - and I slept till 3, then decided spontaneously to go back after that big buck on the Boulder (not entirely convinced the first try' was a bad idea afterall) Or that a big muley was neccessary as apposed to just a big buck of any species; given its been four years since I've taken one over a yearold.

Upon arrival (1.5 hours later) though I was surprised to see not one, but three helicopters parked next to a dozen firetrucks "right exactly where I intended to hunt and was not pleased..."

"WTF"?!

A 'prescribed burn' apparently got out of control and required the presence of 200 firefighters from across the state. So after hearing this, I said "%$#@ it!" and hualed ass into 'bear country' to try and slavage another hunt if I could help myself....

I essentially 'road hunted' till dark and the futility of the entire evening began to sink in like the crappy pizza I had on the long ride back home..

End of Day 2 and "Bust number two" as well.

.....

On Day 3 I'd reverted to what I now 'do best'; when I'm not hunting all that well..

I called Tom and we floated from Sheep Mountain to Springdale (below Livingston)...

..And had a blast!

This fish was a bit of a challenge and refused to be netted at one point, wading as we were at the time. The big brown swam into a hole in the undercut bank and with the sediment we'd both stirred up neither of us could still see the fish.
At this point we changed roles and I held tension on Tom's fish (or snag we weren't sure); and he threw the net on shore, removed his hat and vest, and began to 'noodle the big boy out' by hand where it once again ran for 20 feet till I brought it back in and he finally caught his prize.

While I too at one point prior to this had "a big one on", Tom decided it a good time to pull up anchor and move in such a way I had no chance in Hell of catching it. This manuever which threw us into a 180 and was completely unexpected, since we'd just pulled in to an island when I hooked him, now cut off any chance the fish could run downstream or I could climb out and 'play it'.
Instead the boats' position, which was only now a few feet from the fish, forced it to head toward the branch covered bank instead; which of course broke me off in the process.

Tom immediately began apologizing even before the fish got off or I had a chance to curse at him; and has me thinking 'this kid might not be right in the head afterall..?!'

I found the whole thing suspect as a bit of jealousy perhaps with me finally catching a bigger one than him (as I'd witnessed similar attitude when his girlfriend caught one much bigger than either of us have so far); or just plain stupid I'm not sure? But because of this he's on temporary rowing suspension and/or floating at all until further notice..(he just doesn't know it yet).

He did however get a chance to redeem himself when I later "hooked the fish of a lifetime" and screamed it so loud he came running across the island we were on; thinking I 'was being attacked by a bear' (he told me later)..?!

When this massive fish that fought even better than my first, or his fish had, took out 90 feet of line and another twenty into my backing I was at a loss for what kind of monster I'd stuck in too...?
I fought him and regained only 60 feet of line before it was 'a draw' as he gave no indication it would EVER swim back upstream and I didnt want to lose him by unhooking him either. I was by then stuck on a bar and faced with a deep bottomless run between myself and the fish, Tom thankfully waded around 50 feet to net 'the beast' and when he yelled back "its a huge foul hooked whitefish.." I almost cried from the frustration of the last 3 days combined.

The rest of the trip we caught a dozen more small ones on hoppers and nymphs, but was uneventful otherwise; (except for nearly hitting this old bridge above)..which scared the shit out of me as we got closer looking through the viewfinder!?

...

...And so, after looking at the new schedule, I now have '3 more days off this week'.
What on earth I will choose to do during this time is still up in the air...Should I go back after that cow elk (which of course will never stand in that exact same place ever again), or maybe chase after whitetails, or muleys instead, or rainbows and browns on a big river here in Montana...

Hell, I dont know...we'll see...together I hope...

- Thanks for loggin-in weekly guys...I know there's a couple hundred of you doing so..and appreciate it..

Later

Moe

I should have gone fishing...

2011-09-19T19:51:00.001-07:00

..Thats what I told myself only moments after being busted by a doe while bowhunting last night..

I mean sure it was fun to stand there motionless for two straight #@&% hours and not move a muscle, but I could have been fishing instead.

..But nope, I decided to only float one day (picture above and those that follow) and on my second day-off instead I went "bear hunting"... Or that's what I told folks anyway.
Truth is, I just went and checked out the Boulder River for the first time (ever) and fished all of ten minutes and though I did in fact have my gun loaded just in case, to say I was 'hunting' would be a stretch.
Mostly I just cruised around like I often do and "vege'out"....
Not sure thats a word, but you get it...I just turned off my mind and forgot about everything and focused on nothing....

Montana is perfect for that mindset and is why I stick around and now call it home. I dont need to be wasted on drugs or whiskey to get there (anymore); instead it just comes with driving backroads you've never been on, nor likely will ever be on again; and before long your 'lost'...but the kind you know you'll find your way back from.

Either way, I hunted instead of fished, and my random ideas were as futile as my last minute efforts.
I'd spotted by pure chance a monster buck cross a small parcel of 'public land' right at dusk, before it entered another massive piece of 'private' and thought "I could maybe cut him off if I timed it right..."?!

This discovery took place on my way back from the Boulder, and had the younger buck travelling with him not stopped directly in front of my truck, I'd have never seen "the monster" in the first place (an easy 140 class whitetail) that is who was waiting for his pal just off the side of the embankment...

...So I couldn't sleep all that night, and when my ealry-shift at the fly shop ended at 3PM I hopped in my truck and hightailed it back toward the Boulder (a 1.5 hour commute) on the brief chance those same two bucks 'might just take that same path the very next day...'

...and instead was met with a big momma doe traveling with her fawn along the same exact route instead, and she promptly stood mere feet from me and snorted for ten or fifteen minutes till I finally waved my hat at her so she'd "buzz off and go away.."!

..........

No biggie really, since I'm still near dead set on 'a big muley' since moving here; and while that whitetail buck was huge, he wasnt near as big as this fella (above).
Unfortunately he too spends most of his time on private land, so we'll see whether its' fishing I choose for the next few days off, or hunting, or a bit of both...

Moe

Carbella Access....

2011-09-13T20:18:00.001-07:00

..At about 20 miles north of Gardner - considered 'the North Entrance to Yellowstone National Park' - this public fishing-access is the first one most drift-boats can take downriver directly below "Yankee Jim Canyon" (the famed Class IV whitewater section of the Yellowstone).

I've now done this particular float from Carbella down a few times too, but thought we might try it again this past weekend; and I invited two guys along I've grown familiar fishing with as things have worked out just fine so far...

Here's Tom rigging-up before the float...

Chuck doing the same, as I almost always take 'firsts at the oars'; though am still not sure quite why I offer..?

Chuck sticks the first fish and its a huge whitey...

But he recovers quickly and lands a nice rainbow as well...

Tom lands a few cuttys to even the score..

Though I never asked Chuck, I'm beginning to think that must be 'a lucky shirt, hat, and shorts,' he's wearing as he's got the same damned thing on even though we've floated now down the Stone at least four times already - (only just noticed after reviewing my own pics)?

Not that I'd ever say anything anyway since the dude's a stick when it comes to fly fishing (and landing big fish), though still needs improvement when it comes to a strong headwind and rowing us home sometimes'.

No huge fish on this trip but numbers wise we did excellent and boated 30 easy, and nearly all on pink hoppers again.

It was afterall another super long float, now that flows have dropped even more to 2,200cfs, and though we started at 11AM becuase of this we didnt get off till about 8PM.

We started the season floating the Yelloowstone as some might recall, when it was at 9,000cfs and a little nutty I might add, but what a difference this river has changed in the past few months/ "..and this year" if you ask a fulltime guide that is...

It seems both myself and guides who have seen this river day-after-day for the past few are all experiencing the change together as this seasons' epic snow fall and runoff that caused equally epic flows litterally changed the river enitirely as far as what was once a shelf is now a pool and vise versa.

I like hearing this as it puts me at an even playing field with some of the younger guides out there (and they're almost all younger than me) as to how to now fish the Stone.

I still need work on several fronts though, and one important is 'timing my departures at access-points with my arrivals at others it seems'. Thankfully once again the fullmoon shown bright and combined with a fella in front of us who left his tail-lights on at the ramp (thank God); we managed to find 'the takeout' and were on our way back to Bozeman in no time.

Moe

The Bird Float...

2011-09-08T19:32:00.001-07:00

..Thats what its called floating from 'Grey Owl Access to Mallards Rest' on the Stone...

Thats what guides call it, what locals know it as, and now what just about everyone whose ever booked a trip does too. Because of this unfortunately, its one of the more crowded stretches on the Yellowstone (but still consistently fishes well)...'if you know what your doing'...?

Its rare I can claim such things, but have to say my friends and I are boating just as many if not more than guides at our shop are; so think (maybe) I'm catching-on a bit better than years before...?

...

This was just two more floats down the same stretch this past week (a few pics from each, as one post); which makes the last 'Bird Float' about my 7th on that particular stretch I think, and close to my 15th on the Stone this season...

I'm thinking I need about a dozen more though before I'm ready to call it quits, and then store the boat through Winter..

Might have to incorporate some actual bird hunting in here somewhere or maybe a cast-and-blast...?

We'll see...

Moe

.

A cutthroat, a rabbit, a 22, and a broken toe…

2011-09-03T20:42:00.000-07:00

For weeks that blasted rabbit had been torturing my dogs behind the fence and when they gave chase this morning and disobeying calls raced across the road after the bloody thing; I said enough is enough or I’m gonna have two dead bird dogs right before bird season.

So tonight after sharing my dilemma with my coworker Allen, he went home during lunch and returned with an ancient Savage 22 that he lent me to kill said rabbit, along with five rounds and I promptly went home and chased the bloody thing throwing my hat and a fishing net at it to corral it back into ‘my yard’, and out from under the neighbors’ car, and then went about missing it with four straight shots and losing the fifth somewhere in the grass while trying to reload!

“%$#@”!!

“Screw this” I said and went inside and rooted around in the dark till I found two shells of some sort of load and went back out with my 12 guage and then couldn’t find the damned thing in the dark. The cows were also a concern since they were close, like less than 100 feet, but I surmised the 22 hadn’t scared them off; “what’s a quick blast of the 12 gonna hurt..?”

Then I spotted it not twenty feet out into the pasture and if its ear hadn’t twitched I’d have never seen it again as dark as it’d gotten. I took careful aim and clean missed it with the first load and after the dust settled I could no longer see the rabbit or the cows.

The herd disappeared to about a 1,000 yards out and I jacked another round and spotted the rabbit just 30 feet further to the right and set the bead on it and let another one rip.

“%#@&”!?

I could see the rabbit take off even further to the right and toward the fence, but I was out of shells and had likely 'pushed the tolerance level of my neighbors’; so thought best of continuing - even though my mind told me to run back into the trailer, grab more shells, and keep shooting...

Still, I was convinced "that last blast had to have done some damage"; and told myself so as I searched my truck for a flashlight, then letting down the cattle gate, I walked the fence line till I saw where I’d hit the ground.

“No rabbit, shit!”

Then I walked a little further and spotted it shaking not two feet to my right in amongst some tall grass and I promptly stomped on its' neck and felt it squirm underneath.

"Gotcha ya"!

I’m not the tortuous type, nor do I enjoy death; in fact I’d been up till now reluctant to deal with the cute little fella in such a way, but I’ll be damned if I’ll have my two best four-legged friends die because of him; so I picked up a large stone and threw it hard toward its head with my left hand and hit my right big toe instead and about died from the pain and stupidity of such a move.

“%#@&”!!

My toe was throbbing in pain and the rabbit had been protected by my boot the whole time, but eventually he succumbed to the weight of a 300lb man standing on his' neck; along with some injuries I later discovered which occurred when I blew his back legs off at some point in my shooting foray.

I gathered the little guy up and slipped him onto the barbed wire as I let myself out and secured the gate behind me, then threw him in the bed of the truck to let the girls out for 'a look see'. At first they bolted off as expected toward where they’d last seen him play hide-and-seek, but when I called them to heel, I held the grand prize and both jumped for joy at the reward, then I dropped him to the ground so they could get a good sniff.

Neither seemed to enthused to grab it and run, both content it was finally dead’ which was nice to see, so I picked it up promptly and threw it back in the bed and sent them inside for dinner and a bag of ice for my toe and some aspirin for my head.

Oh, I also went up to Hyalite Reservoir yesterday and caught over 15 bows and cuttys using dries at dusk - a cinnamon ant pattern was the ticket and it was a blast of another sort...

- This little bird above almost got taken by 'a monster' (something)..take a look below?!

"WTF"? I actually didnt see the fish till later when reviewing my images this afternoon...WOW that's a big fish to go after a bird?!...

Was a beautiful evening and I enjoyed the solitude, as I was fishing alone...

Right at last light though I was granted the presence of this toad of a Westslope Cutthroat and felt sort of deserving of such a prize; after catching nothing but little guys all night.

Till next time...

Moe

A Change of Scenery..

2011-08-27T19:43:00.001-07:00

Searching out new stretches of the Stone....

....

First up was 'Loch Laven to Pine Creek' (6.3 miles)

Things were not looking good on my way to pick up my friend Tom for our 'last minute decision to try new water...'

The 15 minute hail storm still didnt deter us as bad as we wanted to float..'

..I'd theorized "this is Bozeman, certainly things will be different over below Livingston.."

"Wrong!"

With wind gusting to 35 miles per hour we were kinda asking for trouble before we even put on, but the shuttle had already been called-in'; so we went for it...and paid (dearly)?!

"%#@&"

This little bit of a clearing gave us hope that the trip could be salvaged, but...

..ten minutes later we were tying up to some random island and running for shelter as lightning split two trees before our very eyes on the opposite shore.

"%$#@"

For all our efforts we were rewarded with only two fish in the 2.5 hour float; not bad considering we only fished about 20 minutes of it. The rest of the time we rowed our asses off and prayed we wouldn't die while trying to navigate a much narrower and faster river the closer we got to town.

..

Next up was "a 2 Day Float" first, I went with Tom and Chuck down a familiar stretch 'from Emigrant to Mallards Rest' and we had a blast!!

At the ramp we me met a crazy friend of mine Angus who was about to float alone the first few miles before he picked up a friend; I suggested he take Tom (who could row) and he agreed and we floated nearby each other the rest of the day bantering back-and-forth'.

My mistake though, as with Chuck's "limited rowing ability" I was now pretty much stuck on the oars, but we managed to boat about 14 nice cuttys on hoppers; on what we all agreed was "...a pretty slow day"*.
Tom, Angus, and his' friend they picked up at Mill Creek Bridge; "..managed to boat 20" - so they said?

* Thats (a 13.8 mile float) and only 14 fish computes to about one-per-mile or 2 per hour depending on how you look at it...

....

- Lately I'd begun asking random customers I'd never met before 'if they could row a drift boat' and a few could; so that's how I met Jack. He was friendly sort and had extensive experience behind the oars having guided whitewater in the famed 'Yankee Jim Canyon' for several years; so because of this we ventured further upriver to float '26 Mile to Grey Owl' (9.2 miles).

For all our combined river rowing experience (mine very questionable) we only caught 7 fish between the two of us; and at the end of that week I was about in need of a doctor afterward as I was plum whooped, my equaliberium all out of whack, and had the beginnings of third-degree sunburn to boot?!

....

Because of the 'limited footage of big fish caught' (or any fish pictures for that matter on the latter trip), I've condensed these two trips into one short photo essay below)...

...

Lastly, after a few days of work at the fly shop 'squeezed in to my busy fishing-schedule', Tom and I hit 'Carbella to Emigrant' yesterday (15.5 miles) and made up for some blunders in the weeks' past...

Amazing views on this stretch and not very crowded on this particular Friday. The high winds were a factor early in the morning, but calmed before noon. The fishing wasn't epic, but good and we boated over a dozen nice sized cutty's, two bows, and a few foul hooked white fish as well (the latter on black whooly boogers, they tried but couldn't ingest).

We'd attempted huge and wild patterned streamers early, based on some 'good reports days before', but only "turned some nice fish" and I personally like to catch them' so we stopped all that nonesense and switched back to little pink hoppers once it warmed up a bit.

It's always nice to be able to pull over into a shady spot and have lunch or just rest a bit...its actually one of my favorite parts of floating.

The predictable afternoon storm on the Stone, is something I've now grown used to and yet we got drenched still; even though we were wearing Gore Tex hoodys. The wind whipped us silly and before we could even pull over the boat had a few inches in her once the first storm passed.
The second one looked "really bad" though, so we 'pushed on through' as the lightning accompanying it was fierce.

Leaving Emigrant Access..(around 7PM)

The forest fires in the western part of the state have created some very cool sunsets as the smoke makes its way across the Monatana horizon; and made for some neat rides home after floats on the Yellowstone.

..I still have several stretches of the Stone to search out, and fish for the first time; so check back and see what we find...

Later,

Moe

Hopper Time!!...

2011-08-13T19:35:00.000-07:00

Just spent two more Wonderful Days on the Yellowstone River...

- Above is a gorgeous Native Cutthroat... One of a half dozen we caught on a short float and each as beautiful as the other; all on dries (hoppers) no less....

............

"The Girls" obviously miss me when I spend my days-off afloat - instead of devoting my every second to them; so I play extra long games of "catch the tennis ball" and at least Mocha seems content at the end...

Suzie seems to miss me to the point of biting me almost sometimes when I finally do 'get home', but even she is content once I throw her a bone.

.....
Day 2

Small rainbows taking hoppers at dusk..(7:00PM)

And 'a few bigger bows' began biting around 8:00PM ..(night float)..

Now thats what we're talking about; a nice big brown taken with a dry at 9:00PM on "a purple chubby" (stone fly imitation).

....

Not that we didnt keep fishing, using the moonlights' reflection as a way to spot strikes (aside from sound)..and landed a few more hungry fish before take-out...

The full moon and its reflection was bright enough to cast a shadow of me onto the front of the boat, and 'just light enough' to guide us into Mallards Rest at 10PM last night.

The end of Another Great Day here in Montana.

Moe

Yellowstone River...Finally...

2011-08-06T22:41:00.000-07:00

...And some great fish caught as well...

...
I did back-to-back days on the Yellowstone in the new boat; the first was with a coworker from the shop named Allen and the second with a young college couple who frequents our store. These two floats marked my own first two days floating "the jelly" in over 10 years (having been guided on it myself back in 2000) out of the very same shop I now work at - what are the odds...

Day One was all rainbows and white fish and an absolute blast!

The weather changed dramaticly over there both days and we pulled over to seek shelter from heavy rains and lighting under cottonwoods twice; not that the latter would have helped much, but what can you do...

Within 30 minutes it was back to floating, fishing, and catching...

We had floated 'Emigrant to Mallards Rest' and it was a very long trip indeed (9 hours and off at dark). At one point, not very far from Grey Owl Access, we just happened to pull over to change flies and turns at the oars - when I spied this HUGE dude not twenty feet away on the bank. We freaked at the proximity to such a wonderful creature so close!

I took several pics before he nearlly knocked poor Allen from the boat when he'd finally 'had enough' of our staring contest and swooped over our heads at mere inches before disappearing forever downriver...

End of Day 1 Trip and what a beautiful day it was..

....

Day 2 Begins...

(Grey Owl to Mallards)

And right off the bat it was monster browns that took the whooly boogers, mega prince, and anything olive and sculpiny lookin' we threw at them..

I'd not really intended on doing two days back-to-back, but when I woke on the following morning and realized I was so wired from such a good first-day and it was only 7AM instead of 10 as I'd assumed (having wanted to sleep in); I litterally said aloud:" That was too much damned fun.." and stood up walked to the phone and called the young couple to see if they "wanted to float..?"

They did of course, and we had another great day of fly fishing on the Yellowstone...

All nymphing and dead-drifting streamers and zonkers at this point, and no dries or hoppers yet, but flows are still a bit high at 8,000cfs; so wont be long now and we'll be back on the water and doing what 'I now live for..'

Floating the Yellowstone River with good friends and after good fishing..

Moe

Signs of Life...

2011-07-31T20:28:00.000-07:00

The camera now works...!!

This was great news as I enjoy taking pictures wherever I go, ...and enjoy sharing them too...

Though I floated this week, it was on a public stretch that I intend to keep "sacred"; as it was that nice and uncrowded because others' before me did the same thing.

..I do however intend to fish it again this week and if the pictures-posted after the trip reveal its' location;...well that'd be just 'good detective work' on the veiwers' part..

Moe
.

I killed my camera…

2011-07-24T20:45:00.000-07:00

....and boats apparently need plugs before launching..?!

- These two are directly related and I’m still cursing myself for such stupidity.

I was quite busy rigging up rods and the boat for two new floating friends Eric and John early this morning, and while doing so assuring them both “..no matter what happened on the river today we were sure not to have a cluster %$#@ as the last trip I took with a stoner friend Paul on the Lower Madison".

I then began to relate the short day trip last week when I invited Paul, who was another one of our customers and a nice enough guy, but had some issues I soon realized. One was his inability to do anything most people do so without a buzz - like go fishing at 9 in the morning. He also was shit for offering to drive and haul the new boat, as this meant I was putting my life and the new boats’ in his hands and when he took them off the wheel and drove with his knees so he could light his one-hitter I cringed at every approaching semi.

He’d smoked in front of me before but it was weaker weed he explained and “had scored some primo cannabis from a dispensary that had just closed”. Not surprisingly Paul was obliterated by the time we reached the ramp and could barely talk, much less operate a vehicle so I took over the chore of backing in the boat.

I could see him in the rearview mirror using all his strength to try and pry lose the small drift boat from the trailer, but it wasn’t budging for some reason and a few fishing guides began scowling at us and blowing their horns for us to move. By now he’d backed me so far into the river I thought the whole trailer might wash away and when he waved to me in frustration I applied the emergency brake and got out.

When I pointed out the chain was still attached, not 2 feet from his airhead, he said:”Oh duh” and then once he loosened the boat it nearly floated away without us.

"Oh shit!"

..He immediately jumped in the river up to his waist and grabbed it with all his strength and held-on as two impatient guides launched right on top of us. By jumping in though he’d forgotten his cell phone was in his pocket and it was now ruined and worthless.

“Oh well, no biggie” he said, then went up to park his truck while I waited and held the boat in place. I asked Paul several times if he’d left the key for the shuttle-driver, as this is "very important" and he just nodded. I wasn’t so sure, but let it go (bad move).

He’d politely rigged the oars before I took the seat to row and we drifted out into the main current quite quickly. This is always good fishing right on the other side of the river after you launch, so I began backstroking with all I had only to quickly realize the oars were in wrong and the locks were on the outside, and not in.

He turned around in a panic and helped me with this task before we lost both of them, and in doing so we missed a pretty good stretch and put on quite a show for some local fishing-guides I hoped didn’t recognize me from the fly shop.
Finally he took his first cast, but only one before he began cursing.

“Oh man, I missed a guide on my rod”

..As he was redoing it...which of course meant taking the flies, spilt shot and indicator off and was about to retie them on; I pointed out he’d actually missed two as the second one from the reel itself had been bypassed.

“You idiot”

He tried to blame it on ‘the bikini hatch’ (above), but I told him it was because he was a stoner instead. Three miles further down river and with zero fish to our combined efforts he somehow out of the blue realized that while he’d left his key for the shuttle; he hadn’t left any money on the visor, and it was determined in all likelihood they would not do it for free.

While I just shook my head at yet another stupid move on his part; he seemed especially upset over this one as apposed to the others..

"Oh man I wish I hadn't remembered that now and instead when we were down at the take-out ramp"

"What the %#@& difference does it make?" I asked

"It just ruins my buzz is all" he said and in mid-cast before bothering to retrieve, he reached into his vest and procured his silly looking faux cigarrette one-hitter and proceeded to remedy this situtation.

"Oh for Gods sakes!"

Consequently the rest of the trip resulted in 'putting the very first skunking on the new boat'..and I was determined to remove it.

......

Eric and John assured me they "...would do their best" as to not experience anything remotely close to such disasters and with complete confidence we launched with little fanfare and were on our way across the river in no time.

They’d both rigged up without incident and were confidently casting nymphing-rigs instantly off both sides of the boat; while I pulled on the oars with all I had.

Within less than a minute though I knew something was terribly wrong' as with each backstroke a literal wave of water would wash around my feet in the boat and I screamed;

”Oh shit we forgot to put the plugs in!”

Eric, who’d always seemed cool and calm in the shop completely lost it' and began yelling:”...we’re gonna sink for sure!"..."Oh man your gonna lose this new boat”... and began threatening to “jump out”?!

“Don’t jump out, help for God’s sakes”! I yelled

and began searching for the plugs hidden beneath my seat. It was pandemonium and I really did think she was going down, and not two hundred yards from the ramp no less. Once I found the plugs I found them completely disassembled for some god damned reason and I cursed Alex aloud for this and began putting them back together then said”%#@& it”..and immediately rowed to shore as fast as I could to drop anchor!

"Holy shit that was close.."!!

In the mayhem we managed to successfully plug the two large manufactured holes and stop the inflow, but quickly began bailing as things were still sketchy. It was several very tense seconds, maybe five minutes combined, and included a moment when John without any warning decided to climb out; which nearly capsized us in the process - even though we were now safely on shore!?

“You damned idiot, don’t ever do that again without saying so”! I yelled

“Who you calling an idiot you forgot to put the plugs in?”

He was right and I apologized as we’d only met a half-hour earlier and I did feel somewhat responsible. I should mention though in my defense, I had woken with a severe case of projectile vomitus and diarrhea after eating something rotten at a local BBQ place last night and it was a miracle I showed at 6AM when I did.

While we cut two Gatorade bottles in half Eric suggested I "keep a bucket or pump on board in case it happened again"; stating the obvious’ as would later realize he is noted for (asshole). In the chaos I looked down and spotted my camera bag floating on the floorboard and not in its waterproof protection either. At first I opened it and all seemed fine, more than a little wet all around, but still it would come-on at least.

Later, once downriver further when I reached to take a picture though, I noticed it was stone cold dead and not surprised or happy either.

"Shit!"

The whole event exhausted me, but I still had ten miles of river to go. An entire bottle of Pepto and John, a pharmaceutical salesman from Phoenix, suggesting the 4 Tylenol I’d just chewed up was not the best idea; and I stubbornly swore at him to “..just try and catch a damned fish and forget about me”.

It was all I had and wished I’d taken some Benadryl or something stronger, but between his' nearly dumping us once we were safe and Eric’s panic and threatening to jump out I was wondering how I found such a pair of pussys to go float with. By now we were well on our way down river and I rowed hard to stay in the shade of the mountains and canyon walls as even this early in the morning we were feeling the heat and rays down upon us.

The boat was responsive and I was glad to be back behind the oars of it, instead of: "the Tank" I was in last week; which felt like it was made of pure metal and the rocks made of magnets.

Still, with my condition and inexperience I wasn't 100% yet and when I nearly hit a submerged boulder and split the boat in two Eric began laughing at my panic. I got angry and told him I’d laugh if he ever wrecked his car and his whole family died.

“Whatever” he responded and this further infuriated me.

I told him with that attitude I likely wouldn’t trust him at the oars, and he casually said:”that be fine, I’ll just fish…” (and he meant it and never offered to row once, not that he knew how anyway).

Eight miles later I was wishing I’d brought someone who could, and wasn’t so moody to boot. His brother-in-law John wasn’t very talkative either and the five fish we 'could have caught' unfortunately hit his rig; and his reaction time was retarded slow and he missed them all - apparently unaware that when an indicator was a foot under water this meant you should actually try and set the hook..?

So by day’s end we’d put the second ‘blank’ on the boat and even though I never left the oars or wet a line myself; I still felt the effects of a skunking just as if I had. Especially having watched carefully as John the novice standing in front of me whipped every single cast – hooks, line, and sinkers - inches away from my ears and head and I winced every other time.

...

..And so my camera is dead.

It showed brief signs of life again this evening, after a thorough drying out period and battery recharge, but there are clearly issues' that require professional rehab/repair to make it work properly again.

(Above - is the very last image taken with it, and ironically 'exactly the stretch across from the ramp' that we nearly sunk her in - and taken only minutes before we launched too.)

No telling when I'll be able to fix this as I'm still behind on my rent, electric, and everything else which requires money; but I think I’ll still fish this week and take the boat out to get that skunk off it...

...We’ll see if I’m able to record any images along the way..

Moe

.

Salmonflies on the Upper Madison....

2011-07-17T20:12:00.000-07:00

Great day on the water..

....

We put in at Palisades (meaning - A line of bold cliffs usually along a river) and not only was the description of the access accurate, but the fishing was just as reported too; 'hungry trout were still taking salmon fly patterns'...

Clarity was improving which helped the fish see our surface presentations..

Scenery wasn't bad either...

Fish were responding well and though I missed far more than I boated, we still caught a fair amount given the conditions and circumstances. The latter being I'd spontaneously invited a customer of mine Ralph, who though he'd once worked at a fly shop and was an avid fisherman; apparently knew less than I did how to row a drift boat in sketchy conditions?!

Because of this Bob was none to pleased and he and I continued to switch off several times and Ralph never took the controls once (over the 19 mile float).

It was white knuckle nearly everytime I did anyway and we came very close to sinking "the tank" once while I was at the sticks; so Bob decided it best we not experiment anymore than we already had.

(The above picture is of 'another' nice fish Ralph caught while I took a quick snap without looking thru the viewfinder and continued rowing as hard as I could away from the next boulder..)

"Holy shit!"

....

'The Tank' wasn't the name I'd given the boat, but instead Bob himself refered to it by this often and almost lovingly so. I should have asked more about this odd nickname for a boat before we went out, but given I'd wisely left my own 'new boat' at home; I didnt want to push my luck given he'd initially invited me.

I soon realized though the Tank looks somwhat like a drfit boat, it instead reacts alot more like an old Jon Boat than anything else I've ever rowed before. I was convinced it was built using wood and concrete instead of fiberglass; and once when the oars had come loose from the locks for the umpteenth time I think I yelled something to the affect - of it being:"a piece of shit..", but thankfully Bob was too busy readying himself to bailout he didn't hear me and once safely by the obstacle we continued on and he said very little.

I had nineteen miles to inspect this particular antique watercraft and it was determined to be built sometime around 18 years ago (that much we know). Though it had no name or serial number, it is considered: 'a drift boat' by most people (but not all) and we got the deserved boatload of stares as we passed other floaters comfortably sitting and fishing in higher-end rigs. It might have been the Tank most times, but could have been the sight of all 3 of us in a panic that sometimes resembled a chinese fire-drill; usually when I'd wimp out as we headed toward emminent disaster and insist Bob "..take over the controls" (or a combination of the two..)?!

NOTE: When I start taking pics of snakes, feathers, and flowers, it usually means the fishing slowed down at some point; and on this trip it did and coincided with the forty mile and hour wind that hit us at the 14 mile point (and pretty much shut everything top-water down).

We still found a few places to stop, but still no wading; as the flow was still too strong.

The fishing slowed considerably the further we went down-river and the fish seemed wise to our imitations. Though a few nice ones were later caught, they were of course snagged by Ralph who'd quitely sat behind me catching them the last two hours, and rarely asked for his' picture to be taken - knowing full well the expleteives headed his' way if he got too excited about a certain one.

....
Bob and I were beat to say the least, and I had a prefectly good German tourist sunburn to match my tired windblown head and face (as my hat had been whisked away 8 miles earlier) and the ride home only made nicer by some welcome AC in my truck, a fancy steak dinner in Ennis at the Sportsmans' Bar, and having almost a fulltank of gas for the rest of the week (the latter two paid kindly by our guest Ralph) who was beaming from having caught a mess of fish on salmon fly patterns he'd tied himself.

Even if its not me catching all of them, and instead catching only a few on such a long trip; the day wasn't anything less than awesome and as far as breathtaking stretches of river; I think I've found one better than any before...

The Upper Madison.

Moe

Upper Madison....

2011-07-12T18:40:00.000-07:00

...A Double Rainbow Day....

Last one of course NOT considered: "fish food", but a cool bug still; so I took his picture....

....

..."Oh look a rainbow...?"

"Oh wait,...its a DOUBLE RAINBOW"!?

"Oh my God its a DOUBLE %#@$& RAINBOW..!!!"

.....

This however was one of only three small browns that ever made the bank...

Caught not on a salmon fly, nor a nymph; instead all were caught on a Kelly Gallop Sex Dungeon Streamer. (below/wet)...

..Last bug of last resort ('a streamer' in my book, but worked)

Content with the few I caught, I ate in Ennis and moved on home from there about ten.

Was tempted to steal this cool sign, but realized it was a memorial of sorts for children with some disease so passed?

....

The ride home was a little louder than usual when I decided on a remastered lick of Dure Strait's to set the mood (truck-stop purchase)....

..Made for the end of a nice day actually..

Moe

I’m no “trout bum” ...

2011-07-08T22:16:00.000-07:00

..but I am apparently a no good bum who fishes for trout a lot lately...

....

..The fact that I dont make enough money at my job at the fly shop to afford to pay my bills and for back-to-back trips to both the Big Hole and into Yellowstone National Park is a major part of the problem.
By choosing to do the latter, two weeks in a row, I came home the other day and found both my electricity and internet shut off.

"You sorry son of a..."

Reconnecting the electricity was easier than the internet and I made a small enough payment for it to come back on about a couple hours later; the internet took a little more money and a full 24 hours to be restored (plus left me with large remaining balances on both, and penalties incurred).

"Idiot"

..Maybe my idea to hire two kids to cut my tiny yard every week for $25.00 a pop so I wouldn’t have to devote my days-off to such mundane tasks and go fish was not such a good idea? In retrospect that totals $100.00 a month and is about exactly what my electric bill is. Still, had I not hired the boys to do it I’d have inevitably ignored this task and been “evicted” as promised by the angry landlord who weekly began knocking on my door whenever he saw I was home and threatening to do so “if you don’t cut you damned grass..!”

- Thankfully in the heat of mid July and into August it doesn’t grow as fast or at all unless I constantly water it; and I always forget to do so. Now I can 'ease back on the mowing all together' since it’s mostly dead anyway, and pay my electric on time and continue to fish but may have some unexpected delays in posting about my adventures here...

....

Regardless of my perdicament I decided things was just too damned HOT in the single-wide without AC and thought the girls' might wanna go for a ride...??

My initial intention was to 'simply slip over to Livingston....' around 6PM, have a bite to eat, and "see what the Yellowstone looked like...?"

..Oh she was high and muddy, but not too whitewatery so didn't shoot much more; I was expecting something much more dramatic than what was offered..?

Instead, I got a wild idea to slip into Gardner and maybe take 'a round about drive' through the Northern Entrance, maybe even wet a line the last few minutes of sunlight on the Madison, and then exit out of West Yellowstone then drive back home thru the Gallatin Range. It seemed perfectly logical at the time as opposed to back-tracking; I hate backtracking.

...Entering Gardner, Montana..

Above, is typical Mammoth photo-ops to be honest. No extreme hiking or researching where these critters might be...; the momma elk and their' young calves were right there for display on the lawns of the hot springs' resort; and only because I had a 300ml lens did they come out so sweet...

Pictured is some smoldering 'yellow stone'; and I assume how the park and the river got its name...?"

....

Coming upon this guy however, taking a dust bath, was a huge surprise...

"Gotta problem.."?!

"..Nope, just taking some pics of random hot springs; dont mine me...?"

Six %#@& hours later after being stuck in an endless "bear jam" I was still in my truck, unable to even see the bear itself, nor able to wet a line, and I was seriously contemplating seeking phsycoligical help for my uncontrollable spontanaity and for taking on such a fruitless route at dusk during peak park season.

"You sorry son of a..."

I eventually got home around one in the morning, let the girls run for a bizzerk minute in the darkness (they having ridden in the backseat all this time), and then we all hit the sack.

What the hell was I thinking...

Moe

.

The Beaverhead....

2011-06-30T18:41:00.000-07:00

Some really good fishing right now can be had around Dillon, Montana...(if you hurry...)!?

The above picture it was guessed is the profile of the beaver itself; hence the river bares its name. It took Steve and I a few seconds to "see" it, but with the right kind of eyes it shows up across the entire horizon.

Or its entirely possible we're both wrong, which would mean we dont have a clue.

....

No dries used on this trip, it was mostly tailwater stuff and a nymphing game. Though I had several to choose from and caught a few on my own emerging patterns; we did stop in Tim Tollets' shop in Dillon and grabbed a few "local favorites". His crane larvae and PT Cruiser are must-haves on this river as the fish ate them up just like promised.

Unfortunately it appears the lower flows wont last for long and as soon as the engineers checkout the Dam; they intend to alleviate the problem flooding in the Resevoirs' campground by intentionally letting out a shit load of water!

So while we'd intended to return as early as next week and with the boat,its now looking like at least two weeks before we make a return trip.

..Until next week's adventure..(to where, as yet undetermined..)

I'm signing off till then, a man's gotta work you know (at a fly shop no less).

Moe
.

Fire Hole in Yellowstone...

2011-06-29T20:03:00.000-07:00

So nice last week, I went back for seconds...

....

I cant recall who it was who said that 'going down through Ennis was quicker to get down to West Yellowstone'; but if I ever remember I'll be sure and tell them they're liars!

Not that I mind the town itself, in fact I find it about perfect, its that I'm the worst when it comes to seeing things worth stopping at and fishing waters as I pass; its no wonder this trip took 3 hours instead of the usual time which is at least half..

The Lower and Upper Madison however, are a high running and deep muddy brown; and though there's bugs (and likely fish eating them); I wasted over an hour before I realized they werent interested.

....

It wasn't all bad though, as I managed to stumble upon a few elk sheds...

'..The Mother Load' it seemed and I offered the old guy "$500.00 for all of them" and he accepted.

Not true, but was nice to visit the old Rocky Mountain Antler Museum (now no longer a museum), but still ships the things all over the world for artists and chandelier craftsmen to do what they will...

Once I left Ennis, it was smooth sailing for miles upon miles and it was about right here somewhere when I began cursing the fella who told me of this "short cut" as it was near 6 o'clock and I was still not in the park...

..Once beyond Quake and Hebgen Lakes (above), I eventually entered thru the west entrance; and was once again on fish within minutes of stopping and rigging up...

The caddis hatch was something to behold and the surprisingly few fishermen and lack of pressure only added to the experience..

It was solitude at its best (above on the Firehole) and wasn't uncommon to have hundreds of yards or even close to a mile all to ones' self..

...

Once up in 'the Flats' however it was a bit more crowded, but nothing close to shoulder-to-shoulder as I've often heard it gets. While it was decent fishing, it was not even near as good as down lower on the Madison below the Gibbons Junction I thought.

Not only that, but the mosquitoes up in the flats were near unbearble. As picturesqe as it may look, I was miserable and was only to happy to head back down toward faster running water...

...
All in all it was another wonderful day in Montana, and besides the near death collision with a monsterous bull elk who thankfully stopped before catapulting into my windsheild (true story); it was a pleasant trip and one I'd recommend you do as soon as possible..

Moe

Salmonflies on the Big Hole....

2011-06-23T19:06:00.000-07:00

Before I sent another guy toward that river, I thought I'd better at least fish it once; so I knew what I was talkin about...

Knowing next to nothing about this river or how it came to be called:"Big Hole", I found this sign very informative...(blow it up and read - its pretty interesting)

..Of course also do as I did, and get info from 'the locals' about what's hot and visit this little shop if your ever near Divide, Montana.

"Signs of a recent hatch" were everywhere, but most concentrated below Maiden Rock down to Brownes Bridge.

Once I crossed at the town of Melrose and entered the public access of "Salmon Fly" it didnt disapoint as it bore its name in numbers of bugs and HUGE ones too...!?

I chose this one because it had a nice bright salmon color and matched the bug itself about as good as it gets. It also ended up being the right choice because of its better foam body and while others I tried often sank once they hit the faster current; this one stayed higher and was taken more often.

A brief rainstorm passed through, but it didn't negatively affect the fishing much. In fact things turned better, as the strong winds it brought knocked a bunch of salmon flies out of the bushes and into the drink, and the fish ate them up...

Still, though the access had lots of bugs it didnt have lots of access; so determined to learn the new river, or as much as I could on the first visit; I ventured onward and found a smaller public access and campground and also found it empty of other fishermen (which I understand is rare).

Things were tight however to cast from shore and because of unusually high-flows this year - areas usually wadeable were instead four feet deep.

Here though I did quite well the rest of the evening, using solely fat salmon flies and some odd techniques I made up as I went along and caught 6 nice browns all within a fifty yards of each other and my truck.

I had almost no back-cast possibilites because the overhanging trees were so thight, and even roll-casting was a bummer as I'd often snag a limb; sometimes even on the opposite shore.

What I'd stumbled upon was a channel of sorts and it was loaded with fish looking to get out of the high flows in the mainriver located not twenty feet out on the otherside of the island; and all were keyed-in on slamon flies it seemed.

Because of the limited area, I switched to my 10' 6WT and essentially 'high-sticked em' as they were in deep undercut banks and unusally flooded-runs near shore with little if any wading possible.

..I'll admit it was sort of sloppy fishing, kinda like cane poling in the south, as I'd splash the fly down on the water upstream and sometimes unintentionally skate it on the retrieve. These are all things 'you should definately avoid while fishing dries', but for salmon flies it worked perfect as thats exactly what the clumsy bugs do when blown in. They panic fluttering their wings about and make a poor attempt to swim back to shore; often triggering a viscious strike.

I know this as I threw at least a half-dozen in the river myself and watched how they reacted; some eventually geting back to an overhanging branch and crawling out, and others devoured by huge and hungry trout (the very same I would then fish too).

As an aside: This was sometimes called 'chumming' on the Big Horn, when some guides are known to "take a walk" upstream of their clueless wading clients during a hopper-infestation and whack the bushes with their nets creating a sort of chum-line down river; where of course their fishermen are casting in to.

............

Being a sucker for percieved 'short-cuts' on a map or Atlas, I unwisely chose to sneak over to Twin Bridges along the Melrose Bench Road and paid dearly for my last minute decision.

In broad daylight this 30+ mile dirt road is probably doable (this is a much brightened pic of 10PM), but being a newbie at hitting its' quick turns, washed out gullies, high ridges, and dodging the occasional black cow; I was at about 20 mls per hour most of the way..

"Shit"!

I even stopped at one point at least twenty miles in and contempleted turning back, but using a tooth pick I measured the scale of 1/4 inches-equals-10 miles and determined to forge ahead...

Once I crossed over the Beaverhead and pulling into town around 10:30 the place was a shut-in; and the ride back home just as lonely as the one across the barrens.

..Still, it felt good to have explored new grounds and waters I'd never once fished before; and cant wait to go back again...

Moe
.

Madison River, Yellowstone National Park...

2011-06-22T09:58:00.000-07:00

Spotted these 3 bulls before I ever entered the park...

They were an entirely different group than the two others I've taken pics of recently, and I'm keen on where these dudes hang now too (though still on private land I'm certain).

Neat encounter none the less..

.....

After this I entered the park through West Yellowstone. I had a new pair of Korkers Chromes to try out as well as a Demo Sage Z-Axis I'd snagged from the shop.

I was all geared up and ready to cast my first fly into the Firehole when I took an errant step and nearlly became the first idiot in history to drown in the silly thing. I mean ass over end I fell into a deep pool and was over my head!

"Holy shit!"

It werent the new boots fault. Instead I'd simply misjudged how shallow it wasn't and had intended to wade out a bit before making my first backcast. Its a miracle I didn't lose the rod and even managed to hold onto my hat.

I cant be certain no one saw me, but I'd be surprised if they didn't given the amount of traffic passing behind me; it being peak season in the park and all. Regardless, no one bothered to stop and help thank God and I just acted like it never happened though had 3 gallons of water in my waders and eventually needed to change.

After no bites, except an unexpected swarm of mosquitos and along with my underwear and socks still soaked, I back-tracked a bit below the Junction and had some luck in a spot I did about the same time last year.

I'd began with a stone fly nymph and indicators and had some luck, but then saw surface action and switched to a salmonfly...

They ate it up.

Even though the hatch was nowhere to be seen, I assumed it was close enough to try ...and a dozen fish later I was glad I made the switch.

As with all the big ones and little dudes too; each was carefully released back to the waters they came..

....

That little brown spec on the horizon I'm pointing at...(above)

...Is this huge dude and his friends who followed the same exact path of their brotherin who'd passed earlier; and each time I was forced to get back in my truck to avoid a potential disaster if I stayed put.

At one point earlier in the day I'd climbed back onto the foot path leading back to reapply some sunscreen and saw one headed my way not 30 feet up ahead. I wisely crossed the road and gave him a wide birth as dozens of tourists scrambled to take pictures.

I'd learned my lesson after last years' Yellwostone bull elk encounter; these guys mean business (above pics taken from inside cab of my truck).

Had a quick bite to eat in West and then headed home.

Moe

Pheasant Surrogator 2011...

2011-06-12T19:53:00.000-07:00

...So far a pretty rough start..

This past Thursday Rookie and I drove north to Townsend to pick up the 120 pheasant chicks (only a day-old) then 2 hours east toward the ranch. It rained pretty much the entire trip and we witnessed extensive flooding all along the way.

After a rather noisy ride, we found to our surprise both roads leading to the ranch closed because the Musselshell River had risen 10 feet.

"Shit!"

Discouraged, chicks and all, we simply turned back around and drove home...

Only problem was "what to do with the chicks..?"

We improvised and stopped in Murdochs Farm Supply and bought two large tin bins, waterers, heat lamps, and feed.

Within seconds of release, in Alex's garage, the chicks took to the food and water and all seemed okay..

Two days later however, at least 20 had perished and we were left with roughly 100 for the second attemtped venture to the ranch...

I was unable to go on second trip so no pictures, but thankfully "both surrogators were still there"(we have two this season and both were pre-situated in areas there was concern 'they might have floated away..')

Thankfully the latter didnt happen, but another set-back was a heater malfunction in one and uncertainty both were fully operational after the recent hail and rain storms that swept through the area...?

We'll see how they faired next weekend when his father makes a return-trip, and I'll 'update' how they're doing here..

....
NOTE: We also have another 120 chicks due for our second-release in about 5 weeks (using both surrogators again).

....

.,Now on to the Madison..(go figure)..

Yes, there's not many dog owners out there I dont think who will drive their beloved pets 60 miles round-trip 'just so they can run...'

But after leaving them alone ten hours a day while I work (and/or play at work, its a fly shop afterall); I feel I owe it to them.

...And so we hit the Lower Madison, where they practicaly know every tree and rock by name'...

I do too by now, but it's just about the safest spot we can go and not encounter skunks, porkys, and snakes..

On occasion, I'll even break out the fly rod and fish a while...

...At 6,000cfs though, I usually just chill and watch the girls do their thing, check the hillsides for wildlife, and chill some more..

...
With even more rain in the forecast and epic run-off due to record snow fall; its unlikely we'll be launching the 'new boat' on any local rivers this month.

Still, I'm jonesing to get out there so might be inclined to dip her into Hyalite Resevoir or Hebgen Lake here soon.

Stay tuned..

Moe

Found Seven Bulls in Velvet...

2011-06-04T21:43:00.000-07:00

...Some real nice ones too!

Its still early, but these three show real potential of developing some magnificent racks..

There were actually four, but one of the largest held up in timber and wouldn't join the others down low.

Check out the differences in their coloration, no camera tricks there; they all differ a bit in-transition from their' Winter to Summer coats I guess..

I found them feeding on private property just below Big Sky right along the Gallatin, while searching for a clearer waters to fish. I was just up river of the Taylor Fork; so its likely these are Yellowstone Park bulls, but a cool to encounter none the less..

The three down lower eventually tired of me sneaking in on them and headed back into fallen timbers..

"Single file, single file..."

....

About 30 miles down-river while headed home I spied another group of nice bulls bedded along the highway, but they were up pretty high and unimpressed when I stopped to take a few pics...

They didnt budge much and I was happy to see this; as now I know where to find both groups when I head back in a couple weeks to see how their antlers have developed..

...

Did find a clear stretch and threw some junk, but no bites.

The velvet bull encounters were neat though, and unexpected; so not a total bust thats for sure.

Moe

Baby Bison...

2011-05-25T21:01:00.000-07:00

...About as cute as they'll ever be..?

....

It was my first 'day off' since the maiden voyage and with the weather rather piss, it didnt seem suitable for anything but sleeping-in.

About noon however, I heard Mocha say: "how bout a road trip..?" and decided it a good idea and headed down toward West Yellowstone in search of bears..

...

This trip is one I've made several times and limited on where they can get out and run, but even though we stopped at their favorite meadow; they never left the parking lot and instead did some 'hunting' of their own..(field mice).?

....

We eventually moved on and then found ourselves on the black sand beaches of South Hebgen Lake. The second opportuninty to "run" even in the rain, was too much for them and they ran themselves absolutely ragged;..which later helped them "chill" while I cruised for bears...

I wasnt 'hunting with gun' of course; just camera after the NEWS reported "the 25th sighting in the area of Grizzly", plus two well advertised maulings on Deer Creek - I made my way down for a look-see...?

Instead of finding bears, I became captivated by the opportunity to be in and amongst a small herd of Buffalo, mostly nursing momma's and their rambunctious baby calves...

A "Pointing Bison"..?

...

I spent better part of an hour amongst them, and here's what I captured..

"You mean I cant even take a piss without this guy shooting my picture..?"

...

Another fine day in Montana...even if it was a bit overcast and dreary...

Moe

Maiden Voyage...

2011-05-18T21:10:00.000-07:00

Took the new boat out for a dip this afternoon and she performed nicely; given the rough windy conditions on the Lower...

Rookie couldn't swing the day off so I was accompamied by my friend Bill who owns a drift boat and who taught me a few tricky maneuvers when headed toward danger. We switched off and on thruout the day and I did just fine when it was my turn to row (kinda)....

The caddis were out in big numbers and swarmed us from the minute we stepped out of the truck to the end. Saw more than a few heads too and Bill managed to land a couple small rainbow on some elk hair imitations when we stopped to wade.

Had this pair of Mergansers (I think) swim near us off and on thruout most of the trip.

Bill is also one of our shops best customers, so between the two of us we had more gear than a half dozen fishermen could ever need..

"The boat is very responsive" Bill said a couple times, but didnt elaborate on what that meant exactly.

I only picked up on what he was referring too after I was in control of the oars and he was fishing on the bow and sarcasticly remarked:"Okay I guess were headed to the otherside of the river now huh..?"

It was pretty cool, but kinda took some getting used too. You'd make two deep backstrokes with oars and she'd scoot way out into the river away from the bank and before long you were trying to put her back where she just was instead.

Once Bill took over controls I too managed to hook and net a few myself using a tied crayfish pattern and fished deep with lots of split shot; given the flows spiked up to 2500 this morning..

Nothing huge, but at least we had a great first trip and caught a few fish, so she wouldn't have a skunk on her when Alex and one of his' coworkers takes her out this Saturday.

....

And best of all we the finished the day without putting a scratch on her.

..I was especially glad of that!

.

Cant wait till next time...

Moe

Drift Boat Dreams...

2011-05-17T09:44:00.001-07:00

For 3 years since arriving in Montana I've been invited a few dozen times with friends to float the area rivers, but only on their schedule. Most of the time I've wade fished or simply snoozed on the shoreline and dreamt of one day having my very own drift boat...

I even came close last season by contemplating spending my 4K in hail-damage money from my truck on one, but decided quitting my stupid convenience store job was a better choice.

As luck would have it not two weeks after quitting said job (last summer) I landed my second gig at a well known outfitter and fly shop in this wonderful state and slowly but surely everthing from then on sort of fell into place...

It helped to have a friend who also had always dreamt the same dream ...and one who had a fulltime job..a career infact.

...And so after months of planning and a few false starts Rookie and I finally found ourselves on our way to Idaho last Thursday and arrived at the HYDE Drift Boat Dealership around noon.

....
At that time God decided to shine down upon me and bless us both with something very unexpected..

While we'd intially near settled on 'a used 2002 one' for more than just a little change, but still had many of the features that we wanted; I off handedly mentioned my having worked at a shop on The Bighorn and currently at another in Bozeman and the sales guy equally casually mentioned we'd honor the "pro rate" on a new one if we were interested..?

This honor is usually reserved for fulltime guides, outfitters, and owners of shops, but I having been a shop bitch for going on 3 years (and pretty well known one); I think he maybe took pity on me...not sure.

Regardless, I eased over to Alex who was mulling over the clunker used one we'd seen online and mentioned what was offered, and as they say - the rest was history..

For the next 3 hours we had them build one to our specs and it started out as nothing but a shell (only a week out of the factory) and later turned into a fantastic drift boat neither of us could have imagined we'd be driving home towing..

Kudos to Lamoyne HYDE and his team of superb drift boat designers and builders as the final product was really impressive. We were even priveledged to admire their handywork up close as they built and painted several others on a tour of their elaborate factory in Idaho.

Our salesman was a real fly fisherman and about as laid back as they come (no pressure whatsoever); as it turned out a rabbit hunter too who knew Alex's cousin 3 states over and had hunted with him a halfdozen times (small world).

A few hours later than we'd planned, having assumed we'd be buying 'a used one' and not brand new; we headed home toward Bozeman and along the Gallatin (now kinda blown out a bit by early runnoff)..but still picturesque along the way.

We spotted elk, sheep, bison, and even a moose; along with a few "bears" Alex slowed to point out, but turned out to be dark furry rocks instead...

Our maden voyage had been planned for Sunday evening on the Lower Madison (below)..and since neither of us really know how to row the silly thing were anticipating taking one of my shops guides along to show us what to do and not..

30 Mile per hour winds however forced us to sctratch this trip, but were hoping to get out eitehr later today or tomorrow..

....

You know its funny how things work out when your flat broke but have cool friends. Yup, old Rookie's pretty lucky to have me there by his side when he buys expensive drift boats; the fact he has nowhere to keep it and it'll reside hidden behind my singlewide for the next couple years is a sacrifice I'll just have to make I guess..

Moe

Spring in Montana......

2011-05-01T19:38:00.000-07:00

All kinds of critters both big and small out and about...

From the ones I've grown used to seeing and they use too seeing me...

...To some I almost never lay eyes on and feel privledged when I do.

While momma 'kept watch' a few yards behind, her youngin fed on suptle spring grasses that required kneeling to reach. Then once full, spent another few minutes stretching and scratching what itched and ached all to the amusement of yours truly who kept snapping away..

"hey look Ma...if I use my back hoove I can scratch my face...!?"

.....

This week I also came upon the miracle of birth as it happened..and did my best to record; while having a little chuckle at the calves efforts along the way into this world..

Though my camera missed the seconds preceding this where he fell to the pasture floor, I caught it in my sight while driving and pulled over to capture what unfolded after...

"hey Ma...I'm either blind here or got a bunch of shit in my eyes..?"

..Lets try this again..?

"Yup, had shit in my eye. Thanks Ma for the last big lick!"

(Above sequence took less than five minutes from calf hitting dirt too reaching her momma's teet').

"Amazing"!

.....

I also revisited Ennis Lake Dam for the second time this month and checked out the damage caused by the massive boulder which scheared off and caused so many headaches late last year..

Though the damage seems much now fixed; the above images give an idea to the scale of the rock which fell; it now mostly covered in strong grate along the face of the cliff.

Though I busted out the new ECHO 10' 6 WT and gave it a few backcasts using some pink soft hackle, I had this eary feeling I was being watched' and released the few fish who kindly accepted my imitation as quickly as I could..

Though it says 'Spring' on the calendar; me and the girls are still not convinced its officially arrived (..a half-foot of snow in last 24 hours)..

..But the big game critters up here dont have time to wait it seems; and are 'getting their fill' of the few nice days in between...in preperation for the next...

Whatever's over the horizon can only be better than what's been in the past..

I hope you'll join me and see what we find..

Moe

Paradise Valley, Montana ..............

2011-04-12T22:40:00.001-07:00

..and a thousand head of elk..

Just how does one even try to explain there were 1,000 elk on the range anyway..?

Take LOTS of pictures and hope for the best...and so I did..

...

Mocha and Suzie weren't nearly as impressed as I was by the spectacle, and instead wimpered and moaned until I eventualy let them out at Mallards Landing - along the Yellowstone.

They had their usual blast of energy while I sat against a tree and chilled as I'm accustomed to do every other day off work.

As the sun began to set I assumed the elk we'd seen earlier higher up might have moved further down so off we went..

Note the two shadows in left hand corner - as that's Mocha's noggin along with Suz's - stickin out the back window...as we pulled out of Mallards Landing an headed south..

.............

Here they come, but were taking their sweet time..

The elk were still plentiful and moving about in-mass (as seen thru my binos), but still not down as far as I'd expected yet; so we ventured on till we ran into even more critters - and were very suprised at what we found..?

As we rounded a bend near 'Carbella Access' on the Yellowstone, we ran into this beautiful small band of Bighorns feeding along the roadway..

Though they stuck around for a few minutes and 'put on quite a show'; as usual I ventured too close and they tired of me encroaching and hightailed it up to where they knew I'd never climb..

One didn't seem to mind and let me take a few more, but he too eventually decided to join his kin.

...............

So back down to the valley floor we rode and spotted a thousand more mule deer as well as the intended elk...

They were 'everywhere', scattered by the dozens and hundreds. At least four seperate herds of them showed at dusk on either side of the road along the Yellowstone and had invaded almost every pasture along the way. All grazing as if not a care in the world.

There truly were at least a thousand head of elk and possibly more, but I'd given up counting. Most of the bulls, with exception of two smaller ones I saw had already dropped their head gear, but I didn't come across any racks I could spot from the main road. Same for mule deer; ...absolutely ridiculous how many were out and about.

At least 500 stood on the expansive Dome Mountain Ranch and it was on the eastern side of the river, along a narrow road where most were grazing.

Still, even up on the main road into Yellowstone Park (another 10 miles down)at least a few hundred more had made themselves at home; much to some ranchers dislike I'm sure.

.."Are we done yet, I've seen enough elk?" Suzie asked.

.....

..And so we left the massive herd of Paradise Valley to do whatever it is they do at night; once we men drive home in our heated trucks and sleep in our warm beds (with our warm dogs)..

But we'll be back and that much is certain. It'd be a shame to visit such wonders only once in ones' life.

Might even head back tomorrow ...Heck, I never know what I'll do from day to day until the notion strikes me..

Moe
.

To Big Sky and Back.....

2011-04-05T20:16:00.001-07:00

..The Girls were as happy as I was to get outa the house and go...

Neither seemed content to just sleep thru another 3 day hiatus from work; though I dont have near the trouble with such things. Still, I felt I owed it to them to at least take advantage of this rare window of sunshine we were having and loaded them up for the drive..

......
(With exception of the above two images; taken last week, all of the following were taken on todays trip - as with all my presvious photo essays)..

And a picturesque trip it turned out to be...

On the way down the sun came out and went back behind clouds and mounatins so many times I wasn't encouraged to stop till we reach Big Sky, but given once we arrived and the bighorn sheep (our intended species today) was so far up high; I instead just let the girls "run"...

Unfortunately the place I chose was far too deep and crusty which concerned me Mocha might just break a leg; so I put a "whoa" to the mischeif as soon as I could.

Suzie however would have none of it, she'd been patient for the past halfhour in the truck and was determined to run herself ragged no matter how many times I said no. Still, I have to laugh at her snow shoe hare-like abilities and cant stop taking pics while she doesnt listen to me...

..............

Considering the bighorn sheep were a bust, we tried for even bigger game and weren't dissapointed...

These pics were taken on the road into Spanish Creek which runs right thru Ted Turners place south of Bozeman. For those that dont know or realize - 'his place' encompasses something along the lines of 180,000+ acres if I'm not mistaken, but in a bit of hilarity does not preclude anyone on earth from driving right thru the middle of the damned place;(much like the frustrations I had with the old plantation and county roads)..

But now as you can see, with me being the guy on the otherside of the fence, I have little concern for his minions tailing me in black dualeys and instead of waving I'm fond of flicking the bird.

The bonus for the public road as you can see, is it allows for an awful lot of wonderful wildlife viewing and "up close" too - if you dare.

Recalling the sign I saw on the way in though; I decided it was best I adhere to the rules of ettiqutte amongst giants that would crush me like rag doll if I took another frame and backed off..

Out here, when it comes to bison or "buffalo" whichever you prefer; its not so much Ted's ranch bitches doggin you that ya gotta be worried about - as much as the game itself and how much they're willing to put up with (think bears too)..

....

And so we moved along..

..And onto the exact highway we'd took in...and unbelievably there were about 50 head of elk that weren't there an hour before...?

This all caught me by surprise and with the light fading, I made the best of it along the side of the busy road..

.............

As cool as it was to seen them, the lighting was bad; so we moved ona bit further to a great place I like to fish, but its name will remain unknown for the time being...

Problem is its already 'a hot spot'; no need to make it any worse..

On from there we ran into even more game...

And the sun came out again to help guide us on the way home..(.Aargh..!!.this dang horse refused to run around no matter how many times I whistled)..

...

Right after this we came upon a hundred head of young bison, all tagged, and being well fed; who curiously seemed as intrigued (..as much as Mocha and Suzie) as to why we stopped without 'giving chase..?!'

Me thinks some of these critters are 'destined for greatness' -- on a dinner plate --at the local Main Street restaraunt which serves my favorite dish.

.....

On the way back we dodged our fare amount of whitetail as usual..

..And even a few young muleys appeared at last light...for good measure..

....

All in all, it was another wonderful way to spend a day here in Montana..

Moe

.

I’m happy to report….

2011-03-27T22:57:00.000-07:00

I’m not a total geek after all?!

Oh I still have zero social life outside of the fly shop, and financially I am pretty much a loser still; but at least I’m not a total geek loser.

- I was just fired from my part-time job at the video store today.

This is the same one I was a loser customer of for well over a year and would go into the crummy place near every single night and pace the isles for 30 minutes calculating all the hours I’d wasted watching all the movies I’d already rented; then randomly grab a favorite title I’d seen half a dozen times and head for the counter.

Once there I’d talk the poor geeky guys ear off about how ‘good this movie was’ or how ‘bad another sucked’, then wander out to my truck and waiting dogs for the umpteenth lonely ride home to watch another action flick or romantic comedy till my eyes closed and fell to sleep in a Montana winter.

Now, or at least for the past three weeks leading up to today, I was instead the big fat geek standing on the other side of the counter and had to deal with hundreds of total losers in town who would do very much the same thing to me; too where I eventually told one of them to “go %#@* off and get a life”; ...which brings us back to why I was just fired.

...

...This isn’t my first video store I’ve made friends in and then later enemies, in fact as far back as I recall, I don’t think I’d be allowed in most I was ever a member of.

Many of these incidents of the past were due to excessive drinking and living within such close proximity to video stores; and of course being completely shit faced as a customer and wanting to rent movies at eleven o’clock at night when they were closing.

This is all well and good when you’re the customer 'you think', shitfaced as you are, but when you’re the clerk it sucks I now realize – irony still haunts me at every turn.

...

Larry was a nice guy and still is and even Carol was cool too in a geeky middle aged sort of way. They both are essentially total geeks and have been since high school I’m near certain. I on the other hand at least dabbled in popularity once I left high school, but admittedly was king of the geeks while in; no matter how hard I tried not to be (reason being: puberty didn’t arrive until I’d damned near already graduated).

Kelly and Patsy were also employed at the store, but I rarely worked with either; except during ‘training’; which at one point - after my 6th day of tutorial and still cashing-out hundreds of dollars short when left on my own - they decided to give it “a team-effort”..

My poor math skills having not improved since the convenience store debacle, and fly sales at the fly shop in Winter slow enough I could keep up; I still struggled daily when it came to fast paced checking-in or out of movies at the store and I was as confused as I was on an SAT in 8th Grade; occasionally throwing a similar tantrum as I did then; calling myself “a %#@* idiot” or worse until concerned customers would console me and talk me thru the transaction like I was five.

Why I ever thought it would work out at all is the biggest question given my record.

.. And yet I somehow found myself working at a video store and it was equally embarrassing as it was depressing; so I for one am not too terribly broken hearted over the results.

In fact, I was just minutes away from calling Carol to come in and “cover for me” given I hadn’t had a solid BM in four days; when both she and Larry mysteriously showed up in tandem and said they: “needed to speak with me….”?

...

It’s my own fault you see, I admit it. I thought while wandering the isles one afternoon: “I could do this job, hell its easy” and so when they offered and I was only pulling Winter hours at the fly shop; in a moment of weakness financially – I accepted. But now realize I cannot and no longer will accept anything less than exactly what I want to do on this earth.

It’s too mundane and stupid, jobs like these – same goes for convenience stores. Your mind simply can’t compute how boring it is till you’re actually standing in the position on the other side of the counter, and then you begin regretting applying then getting hired, and begin looking for ways to get fired and/or suicide as is my nature.

I’m also pretty sure I have permanent brain damage from hearing those same five incessant movie trailers over and over on a continuous loop every %$#@ing five minutes for each five-hour shift. It was bad enough having to hear the highly inappropriate punch line in the ‘When Do You Know’ trailer with Owen Wilson asking 'when do you know your in love' and his teammate replying:”I know I’m in love when I wear a condom with the other girls..”

That’s not even funny, much less how the joke actually later played out in the movie itself - with much more dialogue in between the pitch and hit - so to speek. It was like some hollywood geeky editors' input later after-the-fact or just a bad joke to begin with, but worse than that was to have to hear the damned joke literally every five minutes on the TV not five feet from my head for five hours straight; and worse still to have to look up and see the shock on parents face when they too heard it while holding their inquisitive five yearolds by the hand renting Megamind for the umpteenth time and me frowning uncomfortably back to them.

Then there was the Black Swan preview where Natalie Portman walks around like a stoned out ballet dancer and seeing herself staring back and have conversations with a ghost I think. I’m not sure and have no intention of watching such gibberish, except slightly intrigued when Larry told me:”there’s a scene where that Hispanic chick from the 70’s Show makes out with her in it and their both almost totally naked”.

Worst of all though was to find out Cher was still alive and still making movies and to hear her horse manly voice say: “I want someone who can ‘do the routine’, you wanna show me something; show me that…” in the Burlesque trailer. I am quite sure I heard that line no less than 755 times while working there and will hear it still when I’m either lying in my cell incarcerated and facing the death penalty for killing Cher or when I’m in hospice and the black nurses are walking around me concerned how “That old pervert Mr. Moe keeps repeating something about ‘doing the routine and show me something..?”

...Nothing though will top the song that accompanies the Rabbit Hole trailer and plays in my head even as I type this and will haunt me well into my grave and beyond; the one that makes no sense whatsoever and its lyrics are the stuff of complete garbage I don’t care who’s singing them. They flow over the images of Nicole Kidman at her worst –trying to act and cry at the same time. She’s absolutely balling like a baby in the driver’s seat of an automobile over the apparent death of her child, but every time I watched it I was more concerned whether the vehicle was under power and whether she was just another distracted driver and who would die because of her self-pity.

That admittedly rather sour of a response to seeing such things could only come from hearing the screeching lyrics of what I assumed was a woman’s voice coming out of what would later be revealed to be a man’s mouth (an English prick of course) over and over until I began turning the volume on the thing down within minutes of the owner leaving and getting caught later whence she came in to see ‘how things were going..?’

“Hey you cant turn the volume down!” “Its important people can hear the trailers play”.

“Yeah well its driving me #@%* crazy and I’m thinking about consulting a lawyer cause its affecting my sleep”!

...

I’m famous for threatening lawsuits. It’s one of the main reasons I’m often fired. The fact that I’ve never successfully sued anyone except myself (long story) is no reason not to continue to threaten doing so to others. I’ll get someone one day you just watch and see.

The threat in this case “had validity” I was sure, as near every night I would later come home and be unable to sleep. Instead, I’d begin sorting and checking in DVD’s from the drop-box alphabetically on the shelves in my REM sleep and ‘greeting customers’ in the same rude way I did while awake until I’d literally wake up angry at myself and say:”Dude, your not at work; go back to sleep…!!!!!”

Doing something repetitive over and over for hours on end without interruption and nauseatingly boring has that effect on me. I cannot be the only one who suffers from its’ extremes but feel like crap when I wake after another restless night at the video store and my days following were never good ones.

So it’s not all bad I was fired. I mean sure I can never go back in the place, and its probably best I just avoid that whole entire section of town for the remainder of Spring and Summer....

....

I’m damned near certain it was the guy A.J. who came in right when I clocked-in that day. I didn’t recognize him at first, but when he asked about some guy who he’d seen tick me off a few days earlier I vaguely recalled the transaction.

“That guy been in who pissed you off last week…” he asked?

“Which one”

“The one who didn’t have enough to pay his late fees.”

“That narrows it down to about fifty dipshits in town; wanna be more specific”?

...

A.J. caught me at a bad time. He did, it wasn’t fair. Had I known he was in the store when I clocked in and recognized him from the earlier transaction I’d have never said a word and waited till he left and still have a job; but it’s too late. What happened after that happened and the poor dumb bastard just kept egging me on...

And eventually I exploded as usual.

...

“You know it might’ve been like when my ex-wife used to rent movies and never pay the late-fees and he ran into that and didn’t expect it…”? A.J. continued.

“Yeah, and thats somehow ‘my fault’..”? “What kinda dickcheese doesn’t even have 2 bucks on him or a credit card”? “That’s what it was – 2 bucks he owed. His late fees were 6 bucks and only had four ones then threw them down on the counter and stormed out without the 3 movies he made me pull for him telling me to:’ keep em’. ……..Like I care. ……What a complete moron and this towns #@%* full of them!”

“Whu..?”

“If he’d have kept runnin his mouth I’d of walked around the counter and beat his stupid ass…”!

“That doesn’t sound like very good customer service…”

“I don’t give a crap, the motto:”a customer' is always right” only matters if they aren’t complete buttholes; then they’re fair game.”

I was on a roll and have been threatening that ”I’ll walk around the counter…” thing ever since I began working in retail and behind one 3 years ago (never fortunately following-thru with it before getting fired for threatening however).

Most folks in the human chain would’ve never gotten themselves into this conversation to begin with, and even desperate lunatics have breaking point of common senses, but apparently I’m just a few unnecessary words away from jail or the grave if a cop was ever present and I continued...

“You know, I don’t need this video store job; I only work here two days a week. I’m not used to dealing with so many druggers, truckers, and inbred mountain %#@*..- they can all go to hell”?!

Whatever made me think he would not repeat this to either Carol or Larry next time he saw them; is of course why I am constantly confused when employers no longer want to work with me or have me anywhere around and sometimes call the police.

Yes, it appears, this dude named A.J. (I’ll be looking for him from now on), took it one step further and somehow called Carol afterhours and told her all I said (small town); of course leaving off the parts where he spurred me on.

...

And so, it appears I'm instead destined to continue working part time at the local fly shop for those who dont seem to appreciate the vast inexperience I bring to the field, nor the carefree attitude and laziness I've aquired.

I'm still my worst enemy and critic, though now apparently have several locally to contend with too.

What better time to grab up the girls and hit the Madison. A little time to clear the old head is what I need...again.

Moe