There comes a time when it feels like you've tried everything. We had fished fast and slow water. Skinny runs and deep pools. Off the banks and in the middle. Dries and wet flies, both big and small. Nymphs, emergers, dry droppers, hopper droppers, two flies, one fly, weighted flies, with and without split shot. Swinging, stripping, tightlining, dead drifting. Up and down, left to right, and all over that water, you name it, we’d fished it!
In this episode we Wadeoutthere for Part 2 of our conversation with Daniel Bragg from Cameron Montana.
In this episode we Wadeoutthere with Daniel Bragg from Cameron Montana. Daniel cut his teeth fly fishing as a youth in the Ozarks and later the mountains of Tennessee while attending school. When his promising career out of college left him feeling stuck, Daniel moved to Montana and took a $10/hr job in a fly shop to pursue his true passion, fly fishing. It wasn’t too long before he was guiding the Madison River at Kelly Gallup’s Slide Inn. He’s been hunting and fishing in the Big Sky State ever since.
We tend to plan our trips to the river when the weather is good. Why wouldn't we? If the goal is to catch fish, it sure is a lot easier to do when mother nature is on our side. But what happens when the weather does not cooperate?
“I’m hung up.” My brother looked back from the bow of the drift boat then picked up line to cast while I bent the rod deep and gave a few jerks. We were anchored at the head of a long cut bank along the Big Hole river. Wet grass dried in the breeze and a grey sky rolled against the hills beyond the bank. I needed a long cast upstream and quick mends to get the flies down and I had been bumping bottom here and there since we stopped. My father watched from his hunched forward position while I worked to get free from above him. Nothing doing. I reeled in all my line and grabbed it tight, then repositioned my efforts with the rod to work angles that might free the hook. Satisfied with my best efforts I stood resigned to break off and lose the flies. In that moment the taught line slid. A few inches maybe, but upstream. I was quiet, and then, “I can’t be hung up. The line just moved.”
If I get out of the drift boat, you may not see me again until the evening hatch. Yeah --- it’s a problem.