Wild Trout Safaris Alaska Trips

We found the Gallatin to be fishing very well, even better than last years’ trip. This is a very forgiving fishery. The bottom of the river, although comprised of freestone bedrock, is not particularly hard to negotiate. The fish are plentiful as is the bug life. Stonefly nymphs, Free Living Caddis, midge pupa and Sculpins make up the bulk of the rivers forage. We caught mostly Rainbows, however we took a few Browns with a smattering of Whites and Cutts mixed in. Everyone caught fish, many with big numbers; 30 or more. The high was 51 fish netted and the low was 9, but who’s counting? The point is we enjoyed ourselves; in fact we had a blast. That big hot tub, the chats over dinner and breakfast, Bob’s cabin, oh, and did I mention the fishing?
The trip was great!
Next stop, Colorado! Tight lines, mike.

.We socialized while a fellow fly fisherman from Soda Springs serenaded us with an accordion. The evening had a nostalgically cozy ambiance that was just right.
I wasn't sure the Sun Valley/Steelhead trip would make next years' list. I mean when you consider that we only got 17 Steelhead netted last year. This year's results were going to be telling about the future of this destination in years to come. But now, when compared to last year, this year we had a marked improvement. The problem is, for next year, I'm adding Lee's Ferry in Arizona and putting back on the list the San Juan River in New Mexico. For this reason we will have to lose at least two destinations from this year's list. Also, if we do well on the research to the John Day River in Oregon that will mean that three trips from the list will be gone. Therefore, with the fishing on the Salmon River finally rivaling the Sun Valley Lodge in caliber, it's not going to be hard to believe that the Sun Valley trip will make the list again. But it will be hard to choose which trip gets x-ed from the list. I'll wait and see how you vote.

We stayed at the Hot Springs Lodge in Glenwood Springs, therefore, after fishing we all congregated in the huge hot pool at the hotel. We soaked for just short of an hour then met at a Mexican restaurant next to the hotel. Twenty seven in all joined us for dinner. As a group, we joined Chris (one of the new guys) who brought his family, in celebrating his daughter Katelyn’s 10th birthday. It was fun. On day two, we opted to fish a new river, well a new river to the group, called the Crystal. The Crystal is a rarely fished, undammed, freestone river that flows north from Mount Sophris by way of Marble Colorado and then empties into the Roaring Fork River in the town of Carbondale Colorado. I had fished the Crystal way back in 1988 but hadn’t fished it since. Back then I did very well. But then the river was cluttered with scrap marble slabs the land locked spawning fish. Today the river has been better managed and does not preclude fish migrations. It is always fun to fish in a new fishery and the group was both curious and energized to give the Crystal a go. We spread out along the river just above the town of Carbondale. The success rates were mixed, but most caught fish. 35 fish was the netted high, but two fish that were particularly nice taken by Nate, with a Rainbow over 22” and by Brent with one over 20” were highlights. I see us fishing in this fishery again sometime in the future. Colorado has so many beautiful trout streams we could research them until we all expire. I like that thought, explore trout streams until I die. Yep, that’s the way I want to go. Anyway, trip number two is in the books and like always Colorado did not disappoint. It remains to be seen if we fish the Roaring Fork again. It’s been a great run, however, we have so many fisheries that we want to visit, that we might not be able to keep all destination on the list. Or should we? You tell me near the end of the season which trips you want left on the list. At the moment, we all have a date with a Steelhead. Trip three is close at hand and we will think about next year on a later date. For now, look out Sun Valley, here we come! Tight lines. -mike.

Trip #1
As trips go, the Gallatin could not have been a more perfect first trip. With a first trip, the hope is that everyone feels relaxed and comfortable as they get to know the group. There is something about the Gallatin as a destination that makes everyone feel warm and cozy. This particular spot in the west seems to have a calming effect on people that causes that cozy mood. Aesthetically, there isn’t a more beautiful river in the world, but I think it’s the season, the crisp chill that charms the visitor. The river has a quiet elegance as it is gracefully steered northward by lofty snow covered banks. The rocks that dot this waterway are fully covered with pillows of soft white snow like meringue on a pastry. The Gallatin is beautiful in any season, but this time of year the river is particularly lovely. I personally love the tall pines, draped heavy with snow that line the banks.

Most started the trip by spending the first night in Bobs’ beautiful cabin. Bob and Ellen’s’ cabin is a spacious yet charming log home nestled in thick pines in Island Park, Idaho. The cabin is so large it fit the whole class. It was a relaxing good time staying with Bob and Ellen.
On Saturday the group stopped for breakfast at the Running Bear Pancake House, in West Yellowstone Montana. I have found that breakfast is the best way for the students to have a chance to meet each other. From West Yellowstone Montana, we drove north thru Yellowstone National Park to Big Sky Montana. That drive thru the park, always results in many animals sightings along the snow covered landscape. This year was no exception. From my family’s car, we viewed Elk, Moose, Buffalo, Deer, Eagles and Coyotes. The road parallels the rivers as it descends out of the park and into Big Sky. In the upper stretches of the Gallatin are mostly snowed over, but opens up just past the warm springs at Big Sky Junction.

Trip #2
The “Fork,” as the locals call it, is the quintessential free-stone river. It reminds me of a little, Madison. It is the “perfect,” fly fishing river. Better still, it is in my mind, very under fished. Not many know about this remarkable fishery. I think that is in large part, due to all the press its sister river gets; The Frying Pan. On day #1, we fished the “Wink Jaffey,” stretch located about 11 miles upriver from Basalt, just below the Aspen, Snowmass Ski Resort.

The fishing was good both up and down steam from the parking lot. Down river may have been a little better, but its’ hard to say because the afternoon was affected by a chill caused by a wispy scum of serous clouds that developed. The Roaring Fork River descends in a fairly steep drop from the ski runs of Aspen northward thru the Roaring Fork Valley down to the town of Basalt, Colorado. There, the Frying Pan River pours into the Roaring Fork River from the east. Below Basalt, the river widens and slows making it floatable to drift boats or rubber rafts. The river continues down the valley another 22 miles turning westward where it empties into the mighty Colorado in the town of Glenwood Springs, Colorado. The Roaring Fork is fishable all the way from Aspen to Glenwood Springs, but receives most of its fishing pressure in the lower more floatable stretches. Above the town of Basalt, the river is accessible only to wading fishermen. Wink Jaffey is a designated “public fish refuge,” stretch, that is flat out beautiful. This area is arguably one of the best “pocket water,” fisheries in the world. Moreover, it is stunning! This part of the “Fork,” is as beautiful as a mountain stream can get, although the rocks in this river are very round and very slippery. With help of the walking sticks, we slogged our way, in a herky-jerky fashion back and forth throughout the stream bed.

But don’t misunderstand me, it was still good fishing and fun, we were fishing in a winter wonderland. The fishing was, in truth, slower than last year but it still fished fine, but then again, you really only need to land a few of the beauties to be fulfilled. Gene was the high guy with about 30 in the net, but he fished right thru lunch. There are tradeoffs. Jay was just behind him with a number in the high 20s, but all of his were before lunch. Mickey and I took a long lunch break and had fun doing so. The BS is a big part of the trip in my mind, but we still finished with 16 and 15 respectively. (Yes, he out fished me, but I’m getting used to that.) All numbers aside, one or two of these healthy beasts and you knew it was worth the drive to Colorado. Yes, the Roaring Fork is truly a lovely river, loaded with enchantingly beautiful fish as well as large rocks and deep clear pockets. The banks were lined with large snow covered conifers that offer a beauty that rivals the grander of the Gallatin.
We took fish on various patterns: Prince Nymphs, Navistones, Peacock Stones, Cricket Stones, rubber leg Peasant Tails, Red Peasant Tails, Red Copper Johns, Mikes Money Midge, Weber Worms, Zebra Midges, Hars Ears, Purple & Maroon Stones, 20” Stones, Golden Stones, Rusty Stones, Chamois Caddis and Mean Genes. (Any pattern, I left out, please remind me; E-mail.)

Trip #3, Steelheading in Sun Valley, Idaho.
After visiting lands far from Rome, Julius Cesar arrogantly said, "We came, we saw, we conquered!" Not intending to be arrogant when describing our Steelhead trip to Sun Valley Idaho, I'm still going to be bold in my description. I'm choosing a low browed version, and possibly a more fitting quote by Bill Murray from the first Ghost Busters film; "We came, we saw, We Kicked It's Ass!" Yes, we did well on the Salmon River.

I had hoped that we could get half of our students on to a Steelhead. I knew going in, that half the class with a netted Steelhead was not only a lofty goal; it was a far-flung goal that was way too ambitious. Realistically we only needed a few of us with a Steelhead to have a successful trip. But I was still hoping for that kind of a catch rate. I could have never imagined that we would have had the crazy numbers that we had. As a group, we probably hooked 45 Steelhead and we actually put 37 of these sea-run beauties in the net. Yes, we caught 37 Steelhead! Think of it, 20 of us with a fish. That is 37 landed! Not to mention the regular rainbows and the buckets of Whitefish we also caught. Yep, fishing was good. I didn't even rig my rod to fish on day two because my time was better spent netting everyone's fish and helping those that were still empty. However, on day one, I was able to catch a Steely again this year, and I netted my first Bull Trout too. I've been hoping to catch one of these endangered species for a long time. Not a large Bull, maybe only 14 or 15" but a Bull Trout nevertheless. I knew that all anglers have to return the Bull Trout "immediately," as the proclamation says, so I didn't snap a photo of it. I only showed it to Mickey and Mitch before I put it back quickly, so not to rile up the locals who were all watching. Many of the locals were already on edge because of all the Steelhead we were catching in front of them.

As far as the local fishermen, it seems that few people on the river, or maybe in Idaho, own waders. Rather, the local fishermen chose to cast from the shore. Being mostly deaf, I'm able to read lips, and therefore was able to read what some locals were saying. One man was saying something like, "Those fly fishermen are scaring the fish by standing in the river." Some local casters were in fact cast their spinner plugs directly at us, maybe trying to express their displeasure for us being in the river, or for using a fly rod or for, well, I'm not sure. Not all the local fishermen were angry and most were quite friendly. It was interesting to see the mood change in some of them when they saw that we put all, yes all, of our fish back. Not the same with the local fisherman however, who killed and kept everything. Well not completely true, they did throw the Whites back, but unfortunately some threw them back only after they bashed the skulls with a rock or pulled the heads off first. Wow, why? Whites are fun

Anyway, we had 24 students on this trip to northern Idaho, and 20 of hem caught a Steelhead. That is an amazing statistic, we shattered my goal. A number of students like Kim, Nate, Mickey, Wendy, Scott, Gene, Ellen, Chris and Pete netted more than one Steelhead. To the students' credit, each was gracious enough to give up holes and lend a hand in getting as many people on to a fish as possible. It was truly a team effort. Unfortunately, Dan slipped on some ice just outside of my condo back in Sun Valley on Friday night and broke his wrist; as a result was unable to join us at the river on Saturday.
Of the two days we fished, I'd say Sunday was faster. Or, possibly we just knew better where they were and how to catch them. We took 18 Steelhead on Saturday and 19 on Sunday, but on Sunday we had fewer fishermen and did it in less time. During one stretch on Sunday we had doubles, twice. Steelhead-doubles? Not bad for a fish that is commonly referred to as, "the fish of a thousand casts." I credit much of our success to the research I did on Friday. I logged some 350 miles in my car on Friday driving up and down the Salmon River trying to find the fish. It took all day and we only got in a few casts. But it paid big dividends for the rest of the gang on Saturday. In truth we would have had to do the same thing as a group on Saturday had I not done the leg work the day prior. (Special thanks to Burk, Mitch and Mickey for suffering that long day in the car without much fishing.)

After the research day, I had three spots on the river picked out. Most anglers told us that most of the catching was done before 9:00am. This caused some students to want to leave Sun Valley before 6:30am. Not my idea of an Extreme Class strategy. Fine for the Advanced Class, in the Advanced Class we fish dawn to dusk. But this was an Extreme Class trip and in the Extreme Class we start later and finish earlier. (We are getting old.) At our age, we have already caught lots of fish in our lives, so we tend to focus on breakfast and dinner, never mind those awesome beds and 400 thread count sheets back the Sun Valley Lodge.
But, for whatever reason, I let some of the new guys influence me, so we started early, it was a bad idea. With way too little sleep in me, we headed over Galena pass en route to the first spot I had picked as a possible fishing destination. Upon arrival the temperature was only +2 degrees Fahrenheit, at least that temp was up from the temperature at the pass which was -8 below. Needless to say we didn't fish there and opted to keep driving. When we arrived at the second spot I had picked, the temperature was +8 degrees, but Mickey was sure that the third spot was going to produce, "more fish." I asked him how he knew we'd do better if we kept going and he said, "Look the sun is shining down river." Then I knew that it was a choice made not for the fishing but rather for the weather. We got to the third spot further down river and the temperature was a balmy +16 degrees. To Mickey's credit, the third spot did fish very well, as he said it would. But then again Mickey credits that fact that he listened to a Bob Marley CD before we left the condo, which proves that it was a choice based on scientific data.

I think all of the fish we caught this year, save one, were A-run fish.
An A-run fish is a fish that was hatched in the hatchery and is making its first journey back up river. A-run fish generally range in size from 23 to 28''. B-run fish, are fish that are making their second swim up river and range in size 26-32" B-run fish are wild fish, not hatchery born and do not have their adipose fin clipped and therefore have to be released back into the river. However, we let all of them go both A's and Bs. Some say that there are a "so called," C-run fish in the river, that range in size from 32-36". Last year I landed a 35" fish. I'm not sure how many times it has returned up river, but you can see a photo of that fish and read about that battle that in sued by clicking on the 2007 blog box located on the Extreme link on my web page.
It appears we were early in the run this year and the fish were lower in the river. We mostly only saw A-run fish. Allegedly the B-run fish were still down river and locals say about five days from reaching the upper stretches.
I'm not going to talk about the Sun Valley Lodge as much as I did last year. Safe to say it was great! Without question, best accommodations we have on the Extreme Class list. Thank Bob England for that. After fishing on Saturday, Bob also hooked us up at a special dinner location. We dined at Ernest Hemingway's hunting cabin, now a reservations only restaurant high above Ketchum on Trail Creek. Its rustic elegance made for a lovely evening. We were all seated in a large room surrounding a large quarried rock fireplace. There were 33 of us for dinner, which included 10 non-fishing spouses and a few kids.

The fish of the Fork, are not only astoundingly colorful, they are plentiful and of good size, ranging from 16” to 22”. Strong and fat, these Browns and Rainbows are fun to find. Yes, I said find! It seems that, in this river, and particularly this time of year, the fish are located in interesting places. Locations like sunny shallows and side slacks. Places where we are not accustomed to fishing. It was fun to cast in unusual places to see where fish were holding. We found the river still locked in what has been a long winter. Snow still dominated the region and I felt, cut into our catch rates.

For most of us, the Big Horn trip had it's beginnings on the Snake River. By tradition my Advanced Class has its last trip on the Saturday of the Big Horn trip. It is very convenient seeing how "the gang," really can't get to the Big Horn from Kaysville. But we can get there if we stay a night near Yellowstone. (Such a hardship.)
I like to have the Advanced students meet the Extremers and this is a good way to do that. For years a good number of Extremers have joined the Advanced Class on its last trip. The last trips over the past four years we have fished Lewis Lake, Fire Hole River, Henry's Lake, and now the Snake River.
The Snake River trip was the first time I had ever attempted to float the Advanced students in a river. I think they faired quite well, however the water was running high and royally negatively affecting the fishing. In truth, we ran right strait into a major Salmon Fly hatch that went virtually unnoticed by the Snake River trout. We did catch some fish, although all of them subsurface. A couple of real nice ones too.

I, personally put 8 in the net, but the students didn't do very well. I only had one student with double figures, he caught 11, but a few students left with zero. That was particularly unfortunate, because it has been a tough go for the Advanced Class. I was hoping to redeem them on our last journey from what has been a lack luster spring. In the 2008 Spring Advanced Class, we ran into low water, high water and a late ice off. It was the poorest fishing, of any Advanced Class I have ever taught, going back 12 years. Nevertheless, that low fish production was buffered by the number of wonderful people we had in the class. I mean some really nice folks! I suspect that a good number of them will join us in the 2009 Extreme Class and will fit in nicely. I'm quite sure that the Fall Advanced Class will rebuild their confidence and heal the pain of such low fish numbers. The Fall Advanced Class would be good for those joining us in the Extreme Class in January.
About a dozen Extremers followed me from the Snake to West Yellowstone Montana. In West, I phoned the lodge in Cooke City with our ETA. I was told by my favorite restaurant in Cooke that they would not stay open to accommodate the balance of our group. What? No Piaieja? Will I cope? Well, I now know that the reason was due to our group, which they were already expecting. It seems that the other 12, of the gang, had already informed the restaurant that the Snake River 12 were still coming. So, when I called, they said they were already booked, not realizing that we were that same group, they were expecting. Bummer! We therefore ate in West and substituted a Buffalo burger for European cuisine and a particular Spanish dish called Piaieja. Nothing against the burger, it's just not an even trade, but no worries. It's not what you're eating, it's who you are eating with, and we were with some of the best! Included in that group are some of the "newcomers" to Extreme Class; i.e. Al, Woody, Gravel Dan and our two lovely CPAs, Katina and Jenny.

This year the snow was higher than I have ever seen. In some places the snow was 18 feet above the car on both sides of the road. From the top of the pass the road looked like a giant mole had burrowed its way back and forth all the way up. Skiers build jumps to jump the road in many places along the way. Unfortunately, all of the high lakes were not only frozen, they were still covered with snow. From the top we headed down the many switch backs toward Red Lodge Montana. The route down was lined with many recent avalanche tracks. In fact that road was closed just two days after we passed due to a major avalanche and remained closed for another week. We timed the trip perfectly.

In Red Lodge we dined in a Mexican Restaurant called Bogart's and then continued our travels eastward to the small town of Belfrey. Just past the small high school where the "Bats," play (yes, Belfry Bats) their home games, we turned left and headed north, thru a few more charming farming communities. The bluffs to the west that overlook the Clarks Fork Valley, just above these communities is where centuries of Native Americans drove herds of Buffalo to their deaths in a formable hunting strategy.
    In the village of Edgar we turned right and onto a gravel road on the Crow Indian reservation. I've become not only quite accustomed to this long bumpy ride over the Montana prairie I truly enjoy this section. Maybe it's the old school rock that I blast over the car speakers, or the stories I yell to my passengers and to Mickey. Either way, it's a fun ride for me. However, I fear others just try to endure this part of the trip.
    We arrived in Ft Smith with plenty of time to wet a line. After dumping our bags in the room, a majority of us hit the river. The Big Horn at the pull out fished great! I put 18 nice sized Bows and Browns in the net in just a little over an hour. Pete, Kim, Kyle, Jenny, Chris and Coach also caught a nice batch of fish in a very short while. Unfortunately, Mickey fell in after just three fish in the net.
    The evening air was lovely and we were fanned by a warm gentle breeze out of the south. I only had on a short sleeve T-shirt and it was nice, but my feet were cold. The Big Horn is a tail water, draining Yellowtail Dam. The water stays cold year round, making the fishery great for trout! Just ask Mickey about the cold water.

The sun setting in the west provided a beautiful view of seemingly angry red and orange streaks of cirrus clouds. The light reflecting the setting sun put a pink glow on the water and made for a great back drop for my strike indicator. I thought of Chief Red Cloud who led his people to victory over General Custer not 30 miles from where we were standing, and was sure this was the kind of evening that earned him his name.
I picked up my fish on Red Wire Worms and Gray BB Sows. The fishing was fast. I watched Pete standing in the same tracks catch 17 in a row. I only had two Red Wire Worms left in my box and I was worried that we'd start fishing in the morning without being able to restock my fly box. That however, turned out not to be a problem. You see, Cookie Bob, along with Tom and Gene had stayed back at the cabin and prepared a nice spaghetti dinner. Max had brought the vices from Mickey Finns, so after dinner we tied up a bunch of wire worms at the kitchen table. Yep, we were going to slay them in the morning!
The evening fish, on the first night at the Big Horn had proved to be very productive. Even Jenny, who had gone empty on the Snake, hooked a few fish. I'd say that as a group, we took over a hundred fish that evening. The karma had shifted, the bad taste in our mouths from the Snake River was gone.

We set off into the river as a giant flotilla, like the ill fated Spanish Armada. But this float was not ill fated in fact many of us were hooked up only minutes after launching. We stopped at the first hole and caught lots of fish. Cookie Bob landed a pig! I got the fish in bare handed, because I left my net on my pontoon. A photo of that fish is now on display on the wall at Mickey Finns. From there we drifted to our second hole where Gene also took a pig! Gene hooked it before most of the group had even arrived at the second hole. His fish will be on the wall at Mickey Finns soon.

    From there we floated to our next honey hole along the red sand cliffs on the west side of the river. There we took even more fish. People caught fish and people had fun. Lucy said of the Big Horn trip, that it was not only the best trip, but the best trip she, "had ever been on." Wow, such an endorsement!
    That night we dined at Polly's place. Not everybody got what they ordered, because they sold out of some stuff. Yes, our large group contributed to that shortage. We still had fun. I love to BS with everybody at dinner.
    A small tragedy occurred while we were in Polly's Place. Someone got into Cookie Bobs truck and stole three rods, one reel and Gene's prescription sun glasses. It was probably the same person who stole Blain's flies out of his trailer the night before. I hope Bob and Gene's loss was tempered by both of them catching exceptionally large fish earlier that day.
The next day we caught even more fish. Kyle took special interest in getting Katina and Jenny hooked up. Yes, our two CPAs did fine. Al also got a pig Cut Bow! Brent A. did better on day two, after lengthening his leader. However, Mickey dropped his rod, reel and line into the river and it was never seen again.

The next day, for those who desired to join me, I took a few to the Ruby River after a nice breakfast at a favorite spot called Main Street Over Easy. The Ruby fished great! Brent Fig learned how to take Rainbows on the strip. It was a good time for sure. We caught lots of fish in a very short amount of time. Most everybody left after lunch. Nevertheless, Mickey, Kim, Gravel Dan and I stayed until evening. I put 33 in the net including a few nice size Browns.
The same four stayed a few days longer and fished the "90." We did encounter some high water but we still managed to catch some nice numbers of fish.
OK another great trip in the books. British Columbia is next. I hope you are with us!

Tight lines. -mike

As the days begin to shorten and the morning air reclaims that refreshing chill, my thoughts hearken back to the time we spent together and the fly fishing year that was. In the echoes of my mind, I still hear unintelligible, shouts over the roar of the river. I hear laughter and good-humored chide. I hear crackling radio calls, water splashing and drags squealing. I recall detailed stories of car mates' lives; timeless accounts of human tragedy, fears and triumphs. I can hear humorous anecdotes of familiar foibles, I hear the essential hot tub BS, and I hear the traditional meal time embellishments of trips past. I remember also solitary moments, like the quite whistle of the wind and the distant song birds. When I listen back to sounds of all our travels, I hear many things, but most of all I hear; fun. Yes, it was a great fishing year! The trips were all so beautiful. The world just looks better from the river out.

I hope each of you have had as much fun, as I have had on these journeys; these epic adventures! Together we have seen some great country, in all seasons and all types of weather. I talk as if it is all coming to a close, knowing full well that we still have one more trip to take. It is probably just the change of season, but I'm feeling nostalgic, so indulge me. It seems like only yesterday we were warming the chill off our toes in that huge hot tub in Big Sky, Montana. I called our first trip back in January the "Ice breaker", for more reasons than one. It seems fitting that our last trip was so warm, we wet waded the John Day River with 90 degree air temps and 70 degree water temps. We are about to come full circle.

Sorry it has taken a while to get this to you, but as you know I lost the last recap. Because it took me so long to write it, I was really bummed that I lost it. Therefore, I have not been in a hurry to do a rewrite. Nevertheless, I'll try again to remember all the details. Let me say right off the bat, that if you missed the last trip you missed a good one. A few have said that it was the best ever! But the last trip was in fact, two trips. I guess it is not fair to measure them together, against all the others trips. In truth, each half of the trip was great and could stand alone, faring quite well in the ranking. But together, they rule at the top as the best trip we took all year. Yes, I'm saying they were that good. I know that if I had a vote that is how I would rank them. Of course, they were both new destinations and I had no prior years in which to compare, so maybe my opinion is skewed. However, every one of those people who went to both to the Elk and John Day Rivers said it was the best trip of the year. So far, to my pleasure, every trip, I mean that, every trip, got at least one, # 1 vote. Nothing could make me feel better about our trips to know that there were no "dogs," saying that at least someone thought that every trip could be ranked #1. It speaks to the caliber of the trips.

We started the Canada trip at Bob's cabin in Island Park, Idaho on a Friday night. Early on Saturday we set out on a northerly bearing after I did the KSL radio show from Bob's, via cell phone. We headed to the quaint little hamlet of Ennis, Montana. I didn't know that so few had ever visited this charming town. Everyone seemed to enjoy it. We ate breakfast at a nineteenth century, soda fountain style restaurant. The place is one of my favorites for its blueberry pancakes and Eggs Benedict. (Maybe I know more about breakfast than fishing. I look like I do.) After a group photo around the town's iconic metal statue of a fly fisherman, we bolted north following the Jefferson River to Three Forks, MT.

After passing through the town of Three Forks (named by Lewis and Clark as the location of where, three of America's most mighty fly fishing rivers collide) we turned on to Highway 287 and pressed on to Helena, Montana. With no need to stop in Helena we quickly pulled over for a short potty break and then jumped onto I-15 and continued our progression northward. About 20 miles north of Helena, just short of
Craig, Montana, we turned left and blasted out onto the prairie. I chose this short cut not just to save time but to see country I had never seen.

The town of East Glacier is situated on the very southeast corner of Glacier National Park. In East Glacier sits the famous East Glacier Lodge, built in 1920, just after WWI by the Great Northern Rail Road to promote tourism in the American West. The structure is impressive to say the least. Our group enjoyed lunch in one of the lodge's second story restaurants, while we took in the view of Glacier National Park from a window. This enormous yet elegant lodge, now nearly a century old, is constructed of 100-foot cedar logs which are now more than 500 years old. The lodge has a rustic splendor that evokes a nostalgic charm which causes one to have a longing for, "days gone by." After lunch (almost everybody ordered the buffalo burger, I guess because we had just crossed the Blackfoot Indian Reservation) we resumed our expedition north. We followed the road north out of East Glacier crossing two mountain passes, both with great vistas of Two Medicine Lake and St. Mary's Lake, as we skirted Glacier National Park along its eastern border.

Just passed Babb, we veered left and crossed the border into Canada. Not far from the Canadian check point we crossed the Waterton River and viewed two Grizzly Bears on the river bank frolicking in the afternoon sun. The whole caravan pulled over and together we had a bear moment. (Isn't it great that we see so many bear on these trips?) From Canadian Highway #6 we took a small detour left and drove into Waterton Lakes National Park, to see the village, view the Prince of Wales Hotel and have some ice cream.

Waterton Lakes is an adorable alpine village, nestled between the many towering mountains of the Canadian Rockies. This very small, Swizz style community is built between two crystal clear glacier lakes that have an azure sparkle, like that of Swedish eyes. The European atmosphere of Waterton is palpable. We took a moment to kick back while sitting on a sidewalk bench with our feet stretched out on to the coble stone street as we enjoyed an ice cream cone. The view of the surrounding mountains and lakes combined with the Swizz architecture, as well as the many deer that walk freely throughout the village is a site to behold. Waterton is a tourist spot for even for the Canadians. For example, many in Canada choose Waterton as a location for marriage. In fact, as we sat, we saw more than five brides walking with grooms and family. From a tall hill overlooking the village, sits the highly acclaimed, for old world grandeur and structural beauty, the Prince of Wales Hotel. The Hotel was built many years earlier, long before Canada distanced itself from the British Commonwealth of Nations, but I'm not exactly sure when.

Even though everybody did not want to leave Waterton, we loaded back up and resumed our trek. Back on Canadian Highway #6 we turned due north and descended out of the mountains and on to, what appeared to be rich Canadian farmland. We drove thru what was a veritable patch work quilt of green alfalfa fields. The sun was getting lower in the west and the air had a mountain coolness. The recently shorn hay fields were dotted with well manicured stacks of hay that resembled the ice cream cones we had just consumed back in Waterton. Again, Canada has such a European feel. We pressed onward thru the farmland to Canadian Highway #3 and left.

Not long after we started on a westward heading the road began to parallel one of Alberta's fly fishing famous rivers; the Crow's Nest. The Crow's Nest River, most know for its amazing dry fly fishing, also boasts the existence of good numbers of Bull Trout. Bull Trout, thought to be quite rare in Canada, are at least not on the Endangered Species List, like they are in United States. For example in the US, where a few do still exist, it is against the law to even target these fish, never mind take them out of the water for a photograph. Unlike Canada, where you can not only target them, you can take a picture of them, but they too have to be released. Needless to say, the netting of a Bull Trout, a fish that can reach upwards of 18 pounds, is a goal for many on this trip. However, for my son Mickey, it is not only a goal, it is a burning desire! He wants to catch a "Bully," as they are commonly called in Canada, so badly that it would be a huge disappointment if he were to come up empty. Unfortunately we still had miles to make and we were unable to fish the Crow's Nest.

About 35 kilometers after the junction, the road started to rise again in elevation as we continued to climb high into the Canadian Rockies. We entered the small mining town of Crows nest Pass and drove by some roadside mountain lakes and then over the pass crossing the continental divide before we descended down into British Columbia, Canada. In B.C. the forests were thicker, as a result of being on the rainy side of the mountain which supports more stands of Spruce and Douglas fir rather than the dryer climate of Alberta supporting Lodge Pole and Ponderosa Pine. We wound our way some 14 kilometers down past the Marianna River, also good fishing, to the canyon floor and across the bridge over the Elk River. The Elk River is the river we came to fish! After crossing the Elk River, we started in a southerly direction for the first time on our journey and continued to follow the road as it drained down into our destination of Fernie, BC. As we rolled into the town of Fernie, we spotted many Elk lying in the tall grassy clearings on both sides of the road. It was easy to see how this river earned its name.

Fernie has only recently become a tourist town. Even though it hosts a major ski resort it was mostly a working class town with mining being its largest employer. We pulled into the largest hotel in town; Best Western Fernie. The sun had yet to descend so we took a minute to stretch our legs and take in the view of the large rocky faces and glacier covered peaks that surround Fernie before checking into the hotel. It had been a long drive. Yes, I was glad we were finally there, but you can tell by the description, I really enjoy it. The next morning we rose to a breakfast served in the Hotel. After a bit of local fishing in-site from Kootenai Anglers, one of the two local fly shops, we made our way to the put-in. After most of the pontoons were inflated and readied the shuttle team left for the take-out. My youngest son Finn was way too anxious to wait for the shuttle team to return, so he began to fish. He waded a little riffle not 10 feet from the put in, and before you knew it he had a 16" West Slope Cutthroat in the net. I know that he caught it on a size 12 Teacup Drake because I tied it on myself. With that, all who were waiting began to cast or at least to rig. Finn is still too small, age 9, to float by himself, so he rides on back of my wife Gail's' pontoon, it works out great, Gail doesn't fish but loves to row.

The Elk is as lovely of a river we have ever fished in the Extreme Class. The water in the Elk is gin clear nevertheless its surface from a distance has a subtle glacier blue color. The Elk is flat-out beautiful! So clear is the water, that there is no moss on the bottom. None! It is unusual to fish a river this devoid of moss even though we were planning to fish dry so moss wouldn't be a problem anyway. The banks of the river are lined with trees, thick trees on both sides, all the way down river.

We started catching fish right away as we began the float. However, a few of us struggled with the whole "dry fly," thing. We were catching fish, but it was a bit slow for most, there was even some still with zero by mid-morning. Figgins for example, was still empty when he decided to throw an Irish Spring. However, as soon as he launched from shore, after rigging the nymph, he had one on. This quick success inspired many to rig up a nymphing set-up.

A few of our group never stopped floating, to wade fish some good runs, again after lunch, and as a result were at the pullout well before sundown. The balance of the group however, stayed on the water longer and about 7pm, maybe two hours before sundown, experienced some really good fishing. The fishing really started to light up. By this time of the evening I had figured out that the fish were taking hoppers, not Drakes, so I used a # 10 sized Gorilla Hopper and truly started to smoke 'em.

The fishing remained hot as we drifted thru the last leg of the river. I was catching many from the pontoon on my yellow Gorilla Hopper as was Mickey, but Finn was still having his success on a Stimy, when my biggest Cutthroat, of maybe 19" was landed, while floating thru this stretch. I had yet to take a photo of any of my fish all day, so I left this fish in the net and hung it down in the river, while making an effort to catch-up with Mickey in hopes of a photo. If I remember right, it was my 24th fish I had netted, when suddenly I heard Mickey screaming Bull Trout, Bull Trout, Bull Trout."

I grabbed my rod and ran upstream toward Mickey to find out what had truly happened. When I caught up with him, he was knelling on the ground and breathing hard while trying to tie on a huge salt water streamer pattern but his hands were shaking too severely with excitement. I asked what had happened. With a winded and cracking voice, he could barely contain himself as he spoke. He said that he had caught a White Fish, and was reeling it in when a "three foot," Bull Trout grabbed it! It seems that Mickey pulled the Whitey out of the big fish's mouth but the Bully came at it again and again and then basically jumped into Mickey's lap. Wow! I exclaimed, "where did that happen," looking toward the river. "Right there," Mickey pointed to a spot with his elbow, as he wet the knot connecting his fly with his mouth. After biting off the knot tag he ran out into the river already casting as he ran. I also tied on a large streamer, almost Cutthroat in length, and the two of us began to cast and strip or lines thru the deep stretch. I stripped in my line and casted as quickly as I could, but deep down, I really hoped that it would be Mickey who got a strike. After about ten minutes of fruitless stripping, I told Mickey that we needed to move on. "No," he said as he wiped a tear with his arm, "not yet," as he quickly casted again anxiously trying to cover his emotion.

We climbed onto the boats and continued our float down river but did not re-rig our lines. Instead we started rowing down river to make up time; darkness is not friendly to drifters in a river. The gang at the pull-out was all ready to help us load. After loading everything onto the trailer, we crammed everyone into Kim's truck camper shell.. The boys and I opted to lay in the back of the truck with all the gear for the ride back to Fernie rather than wait for a return pickup. The truck was so full that the fit would not allow the back door to close. It was a bit scary to see the pavement go by under us at 40mph.

The next morning we opted to fish the same stretch. Using what we learned from the first day, the fishing was faster for most. We did well on both hoppers and Fat Albert's. Some however, still took fish on Stimulators and Drakes. On day two we fished in a more relaxed manor and tended not to separate as much, gathering at honey holes where we involved ourselves a little more with the BS. We enjoyed the scenery while sitting on our pontoons watching only one or two of us fish at a time and we all ate lunch together. Having already taken good numbers of Cutthroat, a few from the group changed tactics and started to target the Bull Trout.

It was Corey who got the first Bully. The fish took a flesh colored streamer with peril and silver flash, not a large fish but all Bully! His 8wt rod was pretty bent as we all watched Corey bring the first Bull Trout to the net. Jeff got the second Bull Trout, making two for the group that was targeting these fish. Only Mickey was left still making that "Bully Cast," but by the end of the day, however, he did get one on to the bank. No, it wasn't the three foot fish that came at him the day before, but a Bull Trout nevertheless. We pulled off the river just before dark and then returned to the hotel restaurant to reminisce and chow hard. It had been another great day! I'm not real sure on the numbers of landed fish. I know I got 28 on day one and 23 fish netted on day two. There were many with less and a few with more as well. I think that Kim had near 40 fish for day two but you'd have to ask him to get the actual number.

On day three, we left Fernie after breakfast and embarked on to the second part of our journey, which entailed a drive back into the US and a westward heading over to Oregon. Max & Lucy, Figgins and his wife, as well as Chris and his family opted to separate from the group to make their way back to Utah by way of Glacier National Park and western Montana. The rest of us crossed the US border into northern Idaho and then angled our way toward eastern Washington, and then pressed on across its wheat fields to the mighty Columbia River and south into Oregon. From there we climbed up into some pretty dry topography to what is the, "high desert." We reached Oregon in the cool of the evening so the forlorn county roads were covered with herds of deer, flocks of chucker and coves of grouse. It was surprisingly interesting country that reminded me more of Arizona than Oregon.

Jeff found us a better place, than the Best Western Motel, to stay via his Blackberry while making the drive. We opted to stay in a large, canyon ridge guest house with an amazing wood patio overlooking a large and majestic arroyo, cut centuries ago by the John Day River. It was so ideal for what we needed (and mind you, already booked for us on next years' trip) with lots of rooms, couches, Kitchen, TV, BBQ grill and lawn space. This converted ranch house has a calming abidance that I'm sure will keep us all in the Extreme class very happy for many years to come! (I'm thinking that next year when we rent the place, we could put up some camping tents on the lawn, to accompany the two rentable bungalows that are in back that sleep 4 each, along with the main house which sleeps another 12 persons, we could accommodate the whole Extreme gang! I'm excited for next year already!)

The sun was beginning to set but the evening air was exquisite so Mickey and Finn wasted no time in rigging their rods and running down the hill to wet a line in the John Day River. Only seconds later, Mickey was yelling, "I got one." We all looked down to him and saw his rod bending, "he's got one alright, I said, "but one what?" Scott, Kim, Jeff and Corey all walked down to the river to see what Mickey had landed. I remained seated in a chair on the porch watched the gang examining the fish. They seemed to be looking at it for a long time with no movement. "What is it," I yelled down to them. "We don't know," someone said. I got up and put on my sandals, then walked down to see what Mickey was holding. Well, after examining it, I can't tell you either. I've never seen a fish like that. It wasn't a pretty fish; in fact it was kind of a creepy looking, it had a kind of an evil appearance. Even now I still don't know what it was. But, by then Finn was squawking that he had one on, so I threw the unknown fish back into the river and walked toward Finn. Finn's fish was easy to identify, it was Small Mouth Bass, it only went maybe 8" but it was a, "Smallie" for sure. Both fish I think took a chartreuse popper.

The next morning, we made both breakfast and lunch in the rental house before making our way to the put-in. While the shuttle team was returning from the pull-out the rest of us started to fish. We fished a deep hole under a bridge. On my first cast I took a little Small Mouth, my next cast got another and then another. I was using a brown and tan wooly bugger with yellow rubber legs. By the time the shuttle car had returned I had 6 Small Mouth landed. They had all been smaller but I did see a huge Small Mouth swimming in the clear water near my feet. When everybody arrived we set out on our float with half of us fishing dries and the other half throwing streamers. I kept that rubber legged bugger on and continued to catch fish, I knew I could get lots on a dry but I was hoping to pick up a hog.

Along the shore you could watch Small Mouth jump up and grab the tall grass in their mouths in an effort to pull bugs down into the water. Man, was that cool to see? It was a warm summer day as we lazily floated thru the tall desert canyons. I got to tell you I loved this float! It was so beautiful, but most of all it was so different from anything we had ever fished before. The water was warm and lovely, we wore only shorts and wading boots. The fish were everywhere, behind rocks, along the banks, lying in both the ripples and in the deep holes. Most of them were not very big but, man do they fight hard! Trying to pull these little muscle bound piglets out of the water was truly a chore, a total blast and there is no doubt as to when you had a strike, it's like, "Bang!" and then Bang again!" It was so fun. At lunch,

The gang floated all together, with no need to leap frog each other, we caught fish after fish, over and over again, side by side too. A few in the group ended with more than 70 fish in the net. The largest I saw was taken by Kim, who landed a real nice fish over 17 inches. Remember these are fat fish, not a trout, but way wide and strong, powerful slabs that really tug and truly a good time on a fly rod. I put my fish into three classes categories; A class:7-9 inches, B class:10-12 inches and C class: 13-15 inches, I got many in all classes but only one fish more than 15 inches, and no lunkers.

. As we passed the many, delicious riffles and enticingly tempting pools, Mickey looked at me with a soundless stare. He needed to say nothing, I knew what he was thinking and I returned the same look back at him, only adding a nod of confirmation. He responded with the same nod. We knew what each was thinking! We both wiped the saliva from our chins and began to mentally plan as to how, and more importantly when we were going to return to fish the Jefferson. (Stay tuned!)

I had booked this trip so we could do some dry fly fishing so I wasn't about to change, fortunately most didn't either. We stayed mostly with the intel from the fly shop which was to throw Stimulators and Drakes. The Green Drakes worked well for some but I did better with orange Stimulators, but I never really killed them. At lunch I tied on a green Copper John that I stole from Chris and took two Cutts quickly at our lunch spot. I was barley into double figures when we started to float again out of our lunch beach, with more than two thirds of my fish taken on the Stimulator or "Stimy," as they are often referred.

In fact, Mickey, Finn, Chris and I, a couple of times, all had a fish on at the same time. A quadruple! We really started to light 'em up. I think it was the combination of the Hopper and the time of day. The fish in the Elk were nice, not huge, but nice. I saw maybe only five fish that went 18 inches or more, but lots in the 15 inch range. Due to the fast fishing we were now experiencing, it was hard to get my boys and Chris back on to the pontoons to resume our float to the pullout. I did consider having the group that was already at the pullout, pick us up on the road on their way back, but decided to keep floating.

The daylight was getting quite low by this time and I really could not make out what exactly he was saying and from a distance it appeared that he was waving. What I did see was that he was kicking his boat as fast as he could toward the shore. I decided to go ahead and release my 19" fish and put the net down, to take hold of my ores and row toward Mickey. As I neared the shore where Mickey was beached along with my wife Gail and youngest Finn, I saw Mickey running up the shore, back up river. I beached my boat and asked Gail what happened. "Did Mickey catch a Bully, I asked? Finn then yelled to me that a Bull Trout had "attacked Mickey," "What" I said, "attacked Mickey?" Gail then said, "a Bull Trout hit his leg." Hit his leg, I asked?

We finished the 2008 Extreme Class with a two day float down the Missouri River in Northern Montana. It was amazing! The fishing was good but the scenery was outstanding. The gang really wants to go back there some day. It is not on the schedule for the 2009 Extreme Class, but maybe for the 2010. At some point I know we will get back there. Anyway, enjoy the photos and don't just wish you were with us anymore, just sign up! Do it now, you wont regret that decision. Kick back and let me worry about everything, I will find us a place to stay, the fish and the food; you just make some life long friends. OK? Tight Lines! -mike