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

.....

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...

..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....

..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...

..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…

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