The Fishin' Line

Fishing Stories from the Great North (as told by Dick Wedel)

Thursday, September 23, 2010
Dudes!! I wrote this to my dad last week after a trip to Yellowstone. Thought you might be as amazed as I was at the wildlife.

here it is...

Here's what I did today.

I think there must be at least two rules for taking good, if not great, photos. Rule One must be--Be There where the action is. I did that today. I left home at 7 and drove to West Yellowstone to meet Clete and his neighbor Ed for a day of fishing on the Firehole in the Park. The forecast was perftect last nite. It was supposed to be cool, in the 50s, overcast, and rainy. Perfect conditions for the little mayflies we wanted to see the fish eating. It was cloudy when I left Bozeman, but by the time I got to West, cloud one could not be found.

We talked it over. Plan B was for a sunny day to drive to the Lamar River in the NE corner of the Park. Hoppers and ants (or as we say, "terrestrials") should be on the water. On further reflection, it was decided that it was too late to make the further two hour drive that direction. Plan C was back to the Firehole, give it a try, see what's happening. (The people at the fly shop were not very encouraging about a great fishing day, and when that happens, you KNOW things don't look good.) But we headed into the park, and about 5 miles in hit a traffic jam. Usually these are caused by sighting of wild animals, like a skunk or a bison or an eagle, or a crow--you get the picture. For 30 minutes we continued at about 4 miles per hour. Then the jam miraculously cleared and we never did find out what it was about. Just short of Madison Jct, Clete pulled over and I stopped. (I took my car so I could come home whenever I wanted, and they could stay longer, being much closer to home.) He had just devised a new Plan (are we up to D, E?? whatever). Drive to Mammoth Hot Springs, drop down and fish the Gardiner River upstream from there.

So we drove about an hour to the North section of the Park, getting caught for another "jam", this one for construction along the Gibbon River. At Mammoth, we (I) gawked at the massive bull elk reclining in the shade of most of the buildings, and on to the old dump site, where the bears used to come to eat. After parking, we geared up and hiked down the steep hill to the river, then about a mile upstream, fishing at likely looking spots. I caught about 10 fish, most of the 6 inches long, one nice one. I was on the west bank and Clete and Ed were working up the east bank when they gestured upstream. Shortly I could see two bull elk, both young spikes, coming down the east bank with the wind at their backs. When they came out of the brush they were about 50 yds away, walking slowly. The walked a bit, ate a bit, walked some more. When they were 30 yds away, they looked at Clete and Ed, walked some more, ate a little grass, and kept walking. Our boys decided to get out of the way and backed maybe 10 yards from the river bank. The first spike looked, ate and walked--right down the bank, passing within 10 or 15 feet of Ed and Clete!! I watched it all from my side of the river, as the second young bull circled out around and joined his buddy downstream. Soon they were both lying in the grass within plain sight of us. I had assumed that when they got close or scented us, they would at least get nervous. Not so.

Rule Two of photography must be: Have your camera. Here is where all three of us failed. Ed took a couple pictures with his PHONE, for heaven's sake! But among us all, we had not one decent camera!! Which came back to haunt us yet again when we were walking out from the river. As we ascended the steep trail from the valley floor, Clete pointed up the path. Four cow elk were standing there looking ata us. They were nervous and silly acting. We stopped. Were they part of a harem, and if so, where was the bull, and was he getting ready to stomp us into the dirt for looking at his girlfriends?? The cows disappeared up the hill and soon we saw them on the valley floor a couple hundred yards away. At this point we heard the bull. His bugle call was clear, but not near. We spotted him right away about halfway up the slope on the opposite bank of the river. Behind him were a dozen or so cows of his harem, and he was intent on adding, or returning these 4. They pranced across the pasture, stepped daintily into the river. Drank, looked around. Oh, are you looking for US?, they seemed to say as the bull (I'd say he had either 5 or 6 tines on each side) entered the water. Oh, hi there, big fella! Where have you been? Then they scrambled up the bank and rejoined the herd.

We walked on to the car, un-rigged, drove home--without a picture. I'm sure there are more Rules of Photography, but the 50% I scored on today's test was not a passing score.


October 5, 2009
Dude(s)- The theory is that little baetis mayflies love to emerge from the water on dark, cold, snowy or rainy days. The theory further states that trout love to eat baetis mayflies on days like that. I went out to test the theory today. 37 degrees, no wind, snowing constantly.

Results: . Saw NO bugs in the air or on the water. So NO rising fish. Caught 5 or 6 fish. In other words, the theory needs further testing.

I stayed warm, too warm, except for my toes. But I had to take off a hat, unzip my coat to keep from sweating. Except for my toes. Did I mention they got cold?

Along the river there was probably 4-5 inches of new, wet snow. It balled up under my felt soled boots and made me walk like a teeny bopper on high heels. I fished various pools and pockets in the first mile of river above Axtell Bridge on the Gallatin. Saw not another person. (Mabye they know something I don't about fishing today...) The fish in the picture I sent you is a rainbow trout, about 12 inches long. It was not injured in the catching or photographing.

See you in a little more than a week--if the snow melts.
love, d

September 30, 2009
Today I fished the same hole on the Gallatin River that I fished a week ago. There were some differences. Last week it was about 85 degrees in bright sun and I was sweating in my waders as I slogged up the river from the bridge. I slapped the 50 degree water onto my hands and neck to cool off. On the inside of the bend I carefully crossed the slippery rocks to get into position to cast. Across the river a couple of college kids and their dog splashed and frolicked in the water. I had to work hard to catch a couple of fish, one a nice 14" rainbow which leaped again and again across the pool.

Today conditions were perfect. Gone the sun, gone the heat, gone the 50 degree water. The air was 37 degrees and the grey sky spit rain, snow and ice pellets. The Gallatin was reading 43 degrees, and in my neoprene waders I was comfortable, but not hot. My gloves, wool sweater, wool hat, wool socks, rain jacket and hood did a good job of keeping me warm, and I kept contact with my feet most of the time, and was able to tie knots with my bare fingers. Gone, too, was the couple of swimmers with their shorts and bikini and dog. I had the river to myself.

In some of the calmer sections I could see fish raise their mouths to suck small insects off the surface. Once in a while a fish would show me his side as he ate something not quite on top. I tied on a grey and olive mayfly imitating a "blue winged olive" species of mayfly. And I was into fish. They weren't all big, but they came readily to the fly. The biggest might have been 16", but I never got to unhook him--he did it himself when he was still a couple of feet away.

This is the perfect fishing weather I've waited a month for--dark overcast, rain or snow. For some reason certain bugs come out in great numbers and you can see them floating down the river like little dhows. Yesterday I fished on the Firehole River in Yellowstone NATIONAL Park and struck out. It was 70-some degrees, bright sun. Self respecting fish just don't want to come to the top of their rivers in weather like that. The eastern horizon held big clouds of smoke from a large fire that had closed one of the major roads, but the west wind kept the smoke away from us.

Last night the front came in and by early morning the snow had started. We got about an inch in town, and I'm sure at elevation there was a lot more. As you can see by the picture I sent, George really liked playing in the snow--that silly little monkey. If the weather holds this great (some like Diane would say "this bad") I think I'll go fishing again tomorrow. But I don't think the bikinis will be there.


September 3, 2009
I thought it was time to send you a short fishing report. But first I need to introduce some fishing terms:

A "double" can be achieved when two fisherpersons each have a fish on at the same time, or it can be (more rarely) when a fisherperson hooks two fish at the same time. I will discuss another form of "double" in a minute.

In flyfishing it is common to fish with two flies at the same time. In the old days, and sometimes today, anglers fish with more than two--to give the fish more choices. I think of it as a smorgasbord. If they don't want the mayfly maybe they will eat the caddis. Or if they don't want the grownup mayfly, maybe the immature form will tempt them. In any case the top fly is often called the "top fly" or "lead fly" and the bottom fly is called the "dropper."

Almost all fisherpersons I know buy "barbless hooks", or pinch down the barb on regular hooks. The "barb" is the small sharp protrusion behind the point of the hook. It is designed to make it harder for a fish to get off the hook.

At the end of a fisherperson's line is "tippet," a thin, clear monofilament, supposedly invisible to the fish. Tippet is sized in "X" denominations. 1X is thick and has a breaking strength of around 15 pounds' pressure, and 7X is very thin and will break with about 1.5 pounds pressure. (In case you were wondering, the "X" is the number added to diameter of the tippet (in thousandsths of an inch) to make ELEVEN. For example, 4X tippet is actually .007 inches in diameter. FOUR plus .007 equals ELEVEN, sort of. You get the idea...)

All fisherpersons that I fish with practice "catch and release." This means they do not keep the fish they catch, but release them back into the water--so they can be caught again. This is especially important in Montana where all streams have self-sustaining populations of fish. The state does not release hatchery-bred fish into the wild, so it is important to keep wild fish in the rivers so they can reproduce naturally.

All of this leads me to the Fishing Report. Last week I was on a favorite stretch of the Gallatin River about 10 miles from Bozeman, MT for an evening of fishing. It was a wonderful time of day. Soft light bounced off the water as the sun lowered. The water hurried downstream for its appointment with the Missouri River, then the Mississippi, then, finally the ocean. But not many fish were biting the smorgasbord I was offering them that evening. The lead fly was a size 14 caddis imitation, and the dropper was a size 20 soft hackle emerger. (Flies are sized by the hooks on which they are tied. The larger the number, the smaller the hook. A size 10 hook is nearly an inch long, and a size 24 is less than 1/4 inch long.)

After fishing out a nice looking pool with no success, I moved on up the river and within minutes scored a rare double. I saw a small rise out on the edge of the faster current and pole, line and flies in hand stepped down the rock bank to the water. I did not notice that at this point the rocks were covered with a layer of very fine, very slippery mud. My first footplant did not go well, and I slid dangerously toward a buttplant on the rocks in the shallow water. Calling on my cat-like reflexes, I simultaneously bent my knees to lower my center of gravity and spread my hands to catch myself. I did not fall, but stumbled around in the three-inch deep water for a few steps and no doubt struck terror in the tiny brains of the local fishes. As my heart rate returned to normal and I was getting ready to congratulate myself on yet anothe fine save, I recognized the "double." Embedded in each hand was a fishhook. A rare double, if I do say so. One hook (I don't recall if it was the caddis or the emerger) had disappeared up to its bend into the palm of my right hand, and the other hook had similarly buried itself into the joint of my left pinky finger.

In the process of quick-stepping and spreading my hands to save a buttplant, my hands had gone in opposite directions on the leader and come in contact with the hooks. Rare double, indeed! This is where one is truly grateful for barbless hooks and 6X tippet which had snapped during the incident. Had it not broken, I'd have been handcuffed by a foot of monofilament. I was able to back out each hook without a lot of "discomfort" (as doctors like to call "pain") and to only draw a few drops of blood from my pinky. And since I am an avid practicioner of catch and release, once released, I went on my way, tied on new flies, and if there is any justice, caught the rising fish at the edge of the current. But I cannot vouch for that outcome.


July 22, 2008
Writing to the TWO RCWs at one time--

Dude(s)!
I know how you like weather, and we had some today!!

It started out clear and warmish. We rode our bikes to a restaurant near campus for breakfast. Talking with another patron she said there was a severe storm warning for later.

I hurried home, mowed the yard--actually just set the mower up to 3 inches and ran over everything to even off the tops of the weeds. We have been watering almost not at all.

Then I went fishing, choosing a place nearby in case of storms. I hiked about a mile upstream (Gallatin R.) It was cloudy and the fishing was good. I caught several fish in the first pockets I tried. Then the sun came out and it was humid and the bugs went away and the fish quit biting. I sat on the bank for a while, had a drink (did I tell you about my filter straw gismo that lets me drink right out of the stream?? cool!) I changed flies several times and thought I heard thunder. It was getting darker in the west. But within a couple of minutes a jet went over on approach to the BZ airport, so I deleted the thunder idea.

Soon I noticed the wind pick up and then heard thunder for real and saw some lightning in the distance, so I started walking back down the bank toward the car. I started too late. Big wind, constant thunder, (but no nearby flashes--an important distinction!!) Then the rain. Sideways, slashing, sheets. Pick your own description. The wind and rain whipped a froth on the river. I stayed back among the big cottonwoods to cut the effect of the wind and rain, and to not expose myself to lightning in the open. Within a few hundred yards, the path had turned into a stream of mud and the little feeder streams were pouring mud and cow poop into the main river. The temperature dropped.

I kept walking. I mean, what were my options? By the time I got within sight of the bridge where I'd parked, the rain had quit, the wind had died to a breeze, and the sun had come out. It was heating back up. I tied on a different fly and broke off two fish. (that means I hooked them and they broke the line--usually due to bad knots on my part...) When I got back to the car I found I'd left the west window open an inch--enough to let quite a bit of water on to the seat and floor. I changed my shirt for a less wet one from my pack, but had no dry pants. I was not wearing waders because it was warm when I started (and ended!) I called Diane to say I was on my way home. She was worried, because the storm had been much worse in town--about 10 miles away. There they'd had enough pea-sized hail to cover the street and yard, very heavy winds and lots of rain.

Indeed as I drove home a street about a mile from the house was flooded. I got home about 3 PM.

After some lunch and a nap, we noted that clouds in the west were getting dark again, looking pretty ominous. I got online first weather.com, then weather underground. Both said severe thunderstorm warning for Bozeman. (There is NEVER a warning on the public radio station!) The radar picture looked just like Kansas, all green red and orange! The crawler said the storm was traveling 40 mph and should arrive Belgrade at 6:05 and Bozeman at 6:10. Guess what!! They were exactly right!!

For the second time in one day, lightning, thunder (constant), winds enough that I thought our neighbor's camper trailer would tip over, horizontal rain, then hail, this time penny sized. Enough to almost cover the street and to lie in windrows at the bottom of each downspout. More wind, cold wind. The temperature dropped 30 degrees TWICE in one day. It was 84 when the first storm started and Diane said it dropped to 50. Then it went back to 80 by the time I got home. After the second storm, the temp was back around 52!! One of the weather sites said it had rained at the rate of 8 inches per hour!! But it only rained for a few minutes. Maybe we got an inch of rain total.

You've got to love weather as dramatic as that! I just wish we'd been out in a tent somewhere.

A few minutes ago Diane asked if we could walk to the grocery store. The clouds are close and moving, it's still cool. My reply--as cool as the weather was: What "we" are you referring to? Are you using the royal "we" these days? By then it was raining again so the issue was moot.

I hope your weather in Florida (Clint) and Rockford (Dad) is not as dramatic as ours. Enjoy this vicariously.

love, d

May 28, 2008
Sitting at Clete and Dinah's table early in the morning. Out their various windows I can see the Madison Valley shrouded in clouds. They are low enough so I can't see any snow. Things are green and soft looking, if you think sagebrush can look soft. Everyone else is still asleep, but I had a headache and got up. Feeling fine now.

We came down here (about 90 miles from BZ, about 25 miles from West Yellowstone) yesterday. I left Diane in Ennis to hang out with Dinah and drove on to the cabin. We got to the river about 3. Heavy overcast, sliight wind, alternating mist with light rain. 42 degrees. In short, a great day for catching fish, but not as good for fishing--if you catch my drift. But as Clete says, with the clothes that are available these days, if you get cold it's your own fault. Neither of us got cold. And it was a great day for catching. In spite of water that was high and muddy, the Fish Whisperer put me on fish. In the 4 hours we were out, I caught 18-20 trout, half rainbows, half browns. Clete caught as many. I saw a few other anglers on the river, but did not see them catch anything. We used a black leadheaded jig wiith black feathers for a tail. It could be a leech, or a large nymph. Whatever it was, the fish saw it as FOOD!

About 4:30 a squall blew thru, dropping the temperature by 5 or 10 degrees. A few ice pellets were in the air. That's when my hands got cold, so I went to the car and put on a stocking cap and another jacket and soon warmed up.

If you want to see what it looks like here in real time, go to the Bozeman Chronicle website, look in the pull down menus til you find webcams. Click on Raynolds Pass. The camera is about 3 miles SE of here. Look at this site if you want to see what lonely looks like.

Today's plan is to drive into Yellowstone Park. Last fall we went there in Oct as it was going to sleep, and now we'd like to see it waking up. AND today is the opening day of the fishing season. But we already know that there is so much snow melting that the rivers are "blown". Blown is a highly technical term used by fisherman to denote water that is too damn high and too damn muddy for fishing. (Just wanted to help you with the lingo!)

But I hear Diane snoring (delicately!) and there is no sign of Clete and Dinah who gave us their bed and slept in their trailer last nite. (We felt bad about it, but slept really well.) Essentially this is a log cabin with one room and a loft. Outside dimensions are about 32x24 ft. It must be about 20 feet tall at the peak. On each wall are several (double glazed!) windows giving views of the benches stepping down to the Madison River and the mts to the North, the valley and faraway highway leading to Quake Lake and Yellowstone to the East. On the South are more mountain views and Sawtell Peak in Idaho, and to the west are the Gravely Mts with lots of snow! The cabin sits on the second bench up from the river about a mile away. Elevation is between 6000 and 7000 feet.

Clete missed all of last summer's season, spending it at their home in Daytona Beach, FL while he underwent chemo for cancer. He came out in October and we fished together then. So this is a big season for him, having missed all of last year. He LOVES to fish. Once Diane asked him if he fished every day. He said no, and proceeded to count which days in the whole summer he had NOT fished. The number was not very large, I can assure you.

Clete just came in to start the fire in the VErmont Castings stove--the only source of heat for the cabin. But with an overnite of 39, it only dropped to 59 inside. Logs make great insulation. I ll qut for now. I hope your visit is a good one.

love, d


October 3, 2007

Drove to West Yellowstone yesterday. Snow all over the woods and fields. In the Park we saw bison and herds of elk. And I caught a fish in the Firehole River. Air 37 degrees, water 50. Lots of wind. Very cold! Going back thru the Park today and back to BZ where it is a lot warmer.

July 29, 2007
So far it's cloudy, so should be a little cooler. But mid 90s are forecast. It is not, of course, KS heat, but it is burning up the hay and the fields here, so farmers use more water to irrigate, so the rivers are lower, so the fish suffer, so they close the rivers to fishing, etc, etc. I fished at John's pond last nite, but caught NOTHING--but we saw a doe and two fawns, and a bald eagle, and saw the mountains turn purple, then pink then purple again as the sun went down and the alpenglow spread over the peaks. It was a great evening.

July 11, 2007

Diane caught TWO (not just ONE!) cutthroat trout today. The pictures are taken on the Yellowstone RIver, about 3 miles inside the north entrance above Gardiner, MT. We had to hike about 2 miles from the road, climb down (then back UP a MAJOR cliff). It was fun, and we caught fish!! Here's proof of her angling prowess.

But she was too mean to tell me what fly to use, so I struggled--and carried her boots and pole!!

love, d


June 5, 2007
The flooring people called and they are going to replace the vinyl in the bathrooms TOMORROW, so with luck we should have the facilities hooked up again by the weekend. Diane said, "Dick, let's call a plumber to reset the toilets." Brow furrowed to indicate that I was taking the suggestion seriously, I replied, "Well, Diane, we could do that, but it's not the wedelway." I went to Home Depot this afternoon to get the wax seals. I even got an extra, JUST IN CASE... But hey, what could go wrong with such a simple job??!!

Not knowing the flooring guys were coming tomorrow, but sensing the approach of a big cold front, I went fishing today. You KNOW what a cold front will do to your fishing prospects! To a lovely place with a scary name--Beartrap Canyon, on the Madison River. Just a hundred yards past the parking lot begins the Lee Metcalf Wilderness Area. So no motorcyles, no golf cart-- even bicycles are not allowed.

It being early in the season, I think I am entitled to not be in mid season form. THis was evident early on. As I geared up for the hike up the canyon, I noticed no waders! I forgot my danm waders! Further inspection showed I'd also left my box of caddis imitations on the kitchen table. I DID have my cleated wading boots, extra socks, gaiters, rod (2), reel (2), rain gear, power bar, water, fly boxes (3) (but only limited supply of caddis), net, hat, tippet (in 5 sizes), and some other stuff.

Waderless, I hiked up the canyon and was surprised to find the water warmer than I expected--maybe around 60 degrees. The flow of water thru the canyon, controlled by a dam is low for this time of year.

I caught a couple of fish on PMDs (mayflies) even tho the air was full of caddis. Then it rained. Waderless in my jeans, I put on my rain jacket. (note to self: jeans are a bad choice for wet wading. they don't dry and get heavy when wet!) By then I was standing on a rock near midstream and the more the wind blew and the more the rain fell. I considered calling it a morning. I couldn't feel my feet very well. 60 degree water does get cold after just a few hours of immersion. But look at that, fish rising all over the river!!. Of course it was blowing too hard to even hit the water with half of my casts. But I was able to find another couple of nice rainbows and one brown trout and seduced them to bite! I landed two of the three. The third got a "long line release." SOmetimes I do that on purpose because it is better for the fish, less traumatic...