Christian, a buddy of mine from Denver, came up this past week for several days of fishin'. He was looking to make up for last Fall's fiasco, when temps. dropped from the 70s, to the 30s, in early Oct. I promised him this trip would be better. And after five days of fishing from sun-to-sun, we figured it was -- considerably.


We started on this remote stream, to get our fill of slaying fichies.


Ariell, again waited patiently along the banks.

My idea was to fish the stream above a reservoir, hoping to catch the Cutthroat that I assumed would be making their way upstream to spawn. It took a little exploring, but we found some.



The pale color on this Westslope Cuttie, indicates it has been in the reservoir, and a recent arrival to the stream.


We got in to a run of Suckers, also! Christian is letting one go, here -- trying not to touch it. He landed easily a half dozen fish out of this run.



This one is all colored up, and getting ready to make new Westslopers! Look at the size of fly it took -- a #4 streamer.

One more beautiful WSC (Westslope Cutthroat):




The fishing was pretty good most the day, and we got about 20 or so fish each, then the fish seemed to dissapear. We worked our way downstream, closer to the reservoir. We found clusters of fish throughout the stream, all chromed-up and ready to race upstream. I didn't take any pics. 'cause I was too busy fishing. In one hole, Christian landed 19 different fish! Crazy.

So, after getting our fish on numbers of fish, we thought we'd target bigger fish.


Here's one!

The day on that river went pretty well, again with pods of fish stacked in some areas, and other areas seemingly lifeless. The next day was the big "Hoorah," as Christian was leaving the next day. I wanted to get him something special. The problem was my intended stream was brown, high and unfishable. I didn't know what to do.

The morning of the intended float, my good friend and guiding buddy, Tony, called to let me know the river was down and clear! Christian and I packed the car and hit the river.


The river.

It took some work, and some flipping of rocks to get the river figured out, but we started to hook-up in the first hole. Christian broke off on something big, and I had a decent Cuttie hit my nymph just as it hit the water! I missed that fish, but soon we found the bugs WSCs and Whitefish were taking.

The day was amazing. The weather was perfect. The river was perfect. We caught fish -- most of which I didn't photograph, as they were just average. But, about halfway down the river, Christian hooked in to something different.



We couldn't believe the size of this Sucker -- literally! It was a great fight and fun catch, but not exactly what we were after.


I tried throwing streamers in a couple holes, on the 3 pc., 8', 6 wt. I had just gotten fishable. And I hooked a frickin' Whitie! How does that happen? That streamer is about 5 inches long...

But, we kept working hard and enjoying the day. We stopped on another hole, and Christian once again hooked up.


This was a big fish. We knew that even before we saw it. And we couldn't believe what it was.



Yes, the Apex Predator of western Montana rivers -- the rare and mighty Bull trout. This bad-boy measured 27 inches long and 13.5 inches in girth. We guessed around 7 or maybe 8 pounds!


The release.


Back in its lair.

We celebrated with high-fives, yelling, cheering and scotch. That made the trip. Christian kept babbling about that fish for the rest of the float. Well, until I hooked up a ways downstream.


I don't know what this is, but it's BIG! I fought the fish for many minutes, and I couldn't get it near the boat. The rod flexed all the way through, and I just couldn't move the fish any closer to the net. I was afraid the rod was going to shatter.


So, I thought I'd take a break and sip some brew. Eventually, the fish wrapped my line around the anchor rope. I piled in the back and tried to work the line away, while Christian jumped to the sticks (oars), and pulled the anchor. I freed the line, and kept the fish on as we drifted downstream.

Christian had never rowed a boat in his life, excepting the few strokes he took on the big flat river we floated the day before. He wasn't real keen on being on the sticks on this rolly-tumbly river, with my huge fish on. But, he did a fine job of floating us down about 80 yards, where we beached against the bank. The fish shot under the frickin' raft, and I couldn't pull it out for a while. It wanted the dark. But, a few minutes later, Christian grabbed the net, I pulled a bit harder, and we landed 'er!


Another Bully!


This bad-boy measured 25 inches even -- I think. My tape only went to 23 inches. But it is the biggest Bull trout I've ever caught, and an amazing fight on cane! What a day.

Christian and I had an adrenaline rush that lasted 'till we got home. It was everything we hoped for and far more. He didn't want to go back, but he has a real job, and all that crap to get back to. I dropped him off at the Missoula airport, with images of monster fish rolling through his brain. He's coming back this Fall.