It had been raining off and on all night. The raindrops dripping off the eaves was melodic and soothing. It is a welcome sound. And of course, the consistent rains keep everything green. It’s not something I’m used to where I come from.
I woke up bright and early to go explore and possibly wet a line, though that was secondary.
The Bitterroot River is flowing fairly fast, not unnormal for this time of year. Even the side creeks are flowing rapidly. It makes getting in the water more dangerous and the fishing a little more difficult. But with enough perseverance, one can still be successful in their venture.
My exploration led me up to Painted Rocks State Park. On the way up, I determined to stop at every fishing access sight I found along the way. And, sometimes, I just took random dirt roads to see where they led. I probably stopped three or four times along the way just to get out and smoke a cigar. “Damn! This cigar smoking is getting out of hand.” Each place I stopped was equally as beautiful as the last. The drive up was spectacular as well. After returning from Painted Rocks, I decided to stop at one of the fishing access sites I ran across on my exploration. Perhaps out of sheer convenience, I chose it because it’s so close to home and I wanted to give it a whirl.
I pulled out my rod from the back of the van, strapped on my chest rig and walked to the bank. “Damn, that water is moving fast.” Rigged with a white trout magnet, I made my first cast onto the seam where the faster water meets the slower water. Jig, jig, jig, stop. Jig, jig, jig stop. I continued that pattern of reeling my line in for several more casts. Each time as unsuccessful as the last. “I know there are fish here. It’s the perfect refuge from the faster current.” I decided to put on a spinner; silver body with three dots on a white blade that had a hint of brown on it. First cast, nothing. Second cast, nothing. And so it went with each cast, not even a hit. I cast that lure out about a dozen times with no success. “Well, let’s try a different spinner.” I tied on a gold body and gold blade spinner, nothing fancy. First cast, nothing. Second cast, Fish-on. I managed to land my first Brown of the trip. Up until this point, I had been landing bows and cutts. It wasn’t anything to write home about, but it affirmed in me I may have hit the color of lure they’re after. After releasing the trout back into the water, I moved up river about thirty feet. “Whoa, will you look at that.” Even with the river condition as it is and raining to boot, there’s some fishermen floating down the river in a boat. They were still about a hundred yards away when I noticed them, so continued fishing without paying too much attention. First cast, nothing. Second cast, nothing. Third cast, nothing. Fourth cast, Fish-on. “Cool this fish is bigger than the last.” As I played the fish and brought it to the edge of the bank I reached for my net. “Damn! It threw the hook.” Sure, I didn’t land it, but I had it near me. I’m good with that.
“How you do’n?” I heard a voice from out in the middle of the river.
“Caught two, landed one. How about you guys?” I asked
“Sounds like the same as us,” one of the men responded.
Well, considering they had a guide and I was fishing solo, I’m not feeling too bad about my luck.
By this time, I was getting hungry and decided to head out. “Ribeye here I come.”
