Spring Break on the Bighorn

Spring Break used be a week long break from attending school and plans for trips to Mexico, South Padre or Florida were on the plate. Now that most of my friends are past the age of seeking college party weeks I am settling in to more family oriented breaks. My son is not in school yet so I did not have to plan a week of keeping him entertained while he takes a break from school. My longtime friend, Mikey, is a 7th grade science teacher and he gets a week off in the spring. We planned our third spring break trip to the Bighorn and we all had a great time. I can honestly say that I have been friends with Mikey longer than anyone else on the planet, we were both in our mother's stomachs while our parents were on vacation in Mexico in 1971. Since that time we have been on many great adventures and shared both good times and bad since that trip to Mexico.

My dad and I left Bozeman on Monday morning to meet up with Mike's father Chris who now lives in Lewistown Montana. Rob who is from Boulder and Skip who lives in San Diego also were coming to the gathering since they were Chris's partners in crime while attending the University of Colorado back in the 60's. Skip is an aging hippy and retired architect. Rob basically has always just been "Screwing Around", but has been involved in a backpack manufacturing business as well as Colorado real estate. My dad and I pulled into Cottonwood Camp at around 4 pm and found a note on the counter in the Brown Palace. The boys were out fishing and they left us instructions for the two legs of lamb that were in the fridge. The lamb was in the oven at 325 and we unpacked our bags and let Trico run after a few pheasant scents in the nearby field.

The boys finally made it back to the camp, bundled in all their warm gear and ready for hot showers and a warm up from the 30 degree weather and 10 mph winds that blew most of the afternoon. They braved the elements because the dry fly fishing kicked into gear just as the sun was getting low. Mikey's dog Daisy had a big day lurking the banks feeding on goose droppings and watching the guys fish. I think her big first day made her a bit ill and as you can see in the following photo she spent the next day in this uncomfortable position.

Day two for the group got off to a slow start due to the cool weather and a few too many cocktails mixed with some recalling of the past that went well into the night. Mikey, my dad and I jumped into my boat while Chris, Rob and Skip jumped into Chris's boat. We set off from the 3 mile access at around 11 am and made our first stop at the 10 dollar hole. Chris and the Boulder wrecking crew stopped above the hole to check on the fast water that had been productive in the fall during their duck hunting trip. I mentioned that the fish like the fast riffles in the fall and the deep slow water in the spring. Mikey and I both had fish on our first few cast and my dad finally got his rod rigged and jumped in between us. I caught a few fish and then left my dad to have the upper end of the hole where I was getting fish pretty regularly on a zebra midge and a sow bug. Mikey was killing them in the slow drop off at the bottom end of the hole and by the time we each had 4 or 5 fish to the net the other boat pulled in. Chris was eager to fish his new found fly in the slow deep water below the main bucket that holds the majority of the fish. Chris has gotten into fishing 1/64 ounce jig heads with two colors of Marabou lashed to the hook. It took about three cast for the jig fly to entice a nice rainbow and he continued to hook fish in quick order for the next hour or so. The jig fly was an interesting concept and it produced fish from water that I have always looked past because of the lack of current and the uneasy approach to fishing it. I have done well fishing dries in the same area but that is the only time I have spent anytime fishing the large deep pool.

We moved on down the river and had good fishing in the Vines during the afternoon and early evening. The "Wrecking Crew" stopped on the Greycliff shelf and Skip and Rob did well nymphing with the usual suspects. Chris continued to fish his jig in the deep run below the main hole and it proved to be another productive spot for the Jig fly. Trico found the goose droppings enticing just as Daisy had the day before and I spent a good bit of my day chasing her away from her el natural feast. After spending a hour or so catching fish from the Vines we moved on down the river and found an open spot across from Mike's house. It took one cast to find a fish in the run and after about 20 minutes the crew arrived to see how we had done. We told them of our exploits in the Vines and Chris made a B-line from the boat to the slow deep water below the main run. The five of us took turns rotating through the hole and Chris pounded on the fish in the deep slow water with his jig.

At about 6:30 we made a run for the take out and another great meal. Mikey brought up some pheasants from his fall hunting and threw on a back strap from the cow elk he shot from his porch while using the grill on his deck as a shooting bench. Mikey said the only regret he had about harvesting his elk was that he forgot to light the grill before he squeezed the trigger. It was quite a feast and after dinner we all had a great laugh while Chris struggled to make a few more jig flies for the next day of fishing.

Day three was another cool day and we set out for another float late in the morning. We switched up the boats a bit but we spent most of the day fishing the same holes as a group. The highlight of the day was on our first stop across from the club. The fishing was fantastic and we left the old guys in the hole. Mikey and I took the dogs for a walk up the bank looking to flush a few birds from their hiding spots deep in the Russian Olives and Buffalo brush. As we made our way over to the old channel that hasn't seen flowing water in many years the dogs jumped up a group of Wigeons, Teal and Gadwalls that were resting in some standing water. Mikey and I quickly hid in the brush and called the dogs over to see if the birds would try and return to the luxury of the puddle off the main river channel. We sat and watched the ducks make fly by's over the puddle and we really wished we had a couple of decoy's to help make them feel like the puddle was a safe place to return. We watched and listened to the various calls and had a wonderful time on our simulated duck hunt. After 45 minutes of watching we headed back to the boats and found out that Mike's dad had also headed over to the channel and enjoyed the show as we had.

The rest of the day was spent stopping at spots and catching fish at all of them. I gave the jig a try and hooked a fish after 5 minutes of plying the depths with Chris. It was definitely an effective way to fish the slow water but the air and water temp was too cold to make it any fun. My fingers froze after a few minutes and I told Chris I would try it when it was warmer outside. One of the last stops we made that day was also very memorable as I left Rob and my dad at Turkey Point while I headed for the back channel to give Granamon's shelf a try. It took me about a half hour to land 20 fish and I waded back to the boat to fetch Rob, who had spent most of the first three days screwing around with his setup or walking the bank aimlessly. Rob is well know for just screwing around and accomplishing nothing. During college he used to leave Boulder and drive all the way to Moab Utah to screw around in the desert by himself for the weekend. I did not have enough daylight to allow Rob to rig his rod and I marched him and my dad across the channel and handed him my rod, that was already rigged with the appropriate flies and the correct amount of lead. He stuck a nice brown on his first cast and quickly brought it to the net. After landing a couple more browns and a rainbow he struck fast and the fish he fooled headed upstream fast. He did a great job turning it around and the fish took off downstream. My first assumption was that he had ass hooked the fish and we started off downstream to try and land the fish. My dad and Rob walked down the shallow shore line and I busted through the brush to get up on the bank to see what Rob had hooked. After running down the bank 30 or 40 yards I spotted a beastly Rainbow that was hooked square in the corner of the mouth. Rob was not making much progress so I told him I was going to get in below the fish and that it would probably run back towards him when I got in the water. I made it about 10 feet off the bank and the fish did exactly as I had planned. The only problem was that Rob was ready for the move the fish made and he came unbuttoned from the fly. I got a very good look at the fish and I can conservatively say he hooked into a beast that was close to two feet long. I have seen a good number of fish over 24 inches in the Horn and this fish was one of those I have fondled in the past. It made for a great end to the day and we all headed back for our last meal together and to recall more stories from years past.

The dogs were worn out from the cold water, goose droppings and running around while we fished. We feed on Elk Burgers and played some cards before hitting the sack. My dad and I were leaving the next day and the rest of the group was fishing for one more day. They got another late start and my dad and I pulled out of town around noon. When we hit Hardin the snow started flying and by Billings there were several inches of new snow on the ground. My dad and I were glad we weren't on the river and we kept the crew in the back of our minds as we battled heavy winds that ate a half tank of gas on the way back to Bozeman.

It was another great trip and we are looking forward to some hunting and more good times this fall!