Sculpin Army: Montana

"The world is full of bastards, the number increasing rapidly the further one gets from Missoula, Montana." Norman Maclean - A River Runs Through It

I was blessed with the chance to visit Montana while driving a friends car out to Oregon from Wisconsin. I planned the trip to include ample time to fish, do-it-yourself style, near Bozeman and Missoula, Montana. Despite people's advise not to, I drove 18 hours straight from La Crosse, Wisconsin to Three Forks, Montana, just east of Bozeman.

I arrived exhausted at 11pm unable to find the campsite. After finally locating a site and pissing dozens of sleeping family's off with my incessant driving the camp circle, I pulled my new tent out of the trunk, having never put the tent up before. Thirty minutes later, tent up, Sierra Nevada can in hand I finally was able to unwind and start thinking about fishing the next morning. I was at the confluence of 3 rivers, 2 of which are some of the most famous in the west. The Gallatin, Madison, and Jefferson come together at this one point and become the Missouri River.

After waking, much later than I had planned, shoving something edible down my throat, I set off to fish. My first look at the day time river was exciting and awe inspiring. I was completely unprepared for this amount of water.

I preceded to fish the Gallatin under a bridge a few feet from where it enters the Missouri. Fish were rising to some thing on the top. Great, but nothing. My feeble skills didn't cut it.
Finally I switched to nymphs and gave up on a giant (to me that is anything above 18") brown trout crushing something on top under the bridge. My first fish came on a wire prince that my best friend and the only fishing buddy I really have, Tyler. This fish taught me a great lesson. Rainbow Trout in MT do not like to be hooked. I swore that fish was going to be 20", it was 12. Thanks, Tyler. After some quick rejoicing and a release, It was time to head back to Bozeman and find a fly shop to get some local knowledge.

Gallatin River

First fish of the trip, thank to Tyler.

After visiting The River's Edge fly shop in Bozeman, I headed up the Gallatin to do some more nymphing. Tyler wire prince was the bug of the day. I was able to hook and land 3 more pissed off bows before a thunderstorm made me call it a day.

I had enough of the Gallatin, and could escape the storm and fish the night if I busted it all the way toward Missoula, and Rock Creek. So I did.

Pure Awesomeness

Your so cute when your mad.

My Montana experience ended on Rock Creek, a river that is noted for being excellent fishing, but also very wadable. My campsite was excellent, but my first night's fishing was not. Skunk... for Rock Creek, but not the day thanks to the Gallatin.

Bull Trout

The next day a friendly neighbor camper took me under his wing and showed me a spot where he said their might be some bull trout. I had never caught one, so I was game. After finding a deep little run, I caught 3 bullies on 3 consecutive casts. In 2 days, rainbows, browns, bull trout and some whitefish came to the net. Rock Creek was amazing. In the end it concluded with more big fish, chasing my fly or breaking off, than came to hand. But, I knew that I would be back next summer to chase those elusive monster fish again.