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  • Monday, October 20, 2008

    Some Glorious Fall Days


    Some Visitors Joined In
    join the conga line
    .. Good catching has been eschewed for hard fishing as the focus of many of our neighbors is on the fall run of fish out of Hebgen Lake.
    .. Our town is nearly deserted. Many of the refugees are in Yellowstone National Park -- FISHING.
    .. Fisher activity on the Madison River has been heavy and focused on the holding water for the intrusive submarines.
    .. The gift of perfect fishing weather was on our plate the last few days and enjoyed by friends, neighbors, and visitors alike.
    .. It looks like some other kinds of weather are coming to the high country. And, it seems it may stay for quite a while.
    .. The Barns Holes, Baker's Hole, 7-Mile Bridge, 9-Mile, Firehole Below The Falls, and National Park Meadows have enjoying two perfect days for fishing. The catching was pretty good too, as word of success or failure spread like the wildfires of summer. Parking lots were full of cars, and the riverbanks sprouted waders like toadstools in an old feed lot.
    .. Conga lines have been the norm in the extreme western edges of Yellowstone National Park. There are many conga lines, (of two distinctly different types.). One type stretches from the Barns Holes to National Park Meadows. The other type is formed at the various holding waters and membership rotates between holding water and highway.
    .. Some fishers drive 100 or more miles along the 13 mile stretch from the meadows to "the sign" and back. As much, (or more,) driving as fishing.
    .. All day fishing means rushing between holes in the effort to find one of the dwindling hatches or a willing pod of runners. Fly fishers contribute mightily to the NOx along the west entrance road.
    .. Such is the plight of fishing the Madison River, (it's seldom more than 100 feet from the road.)
    .. There are fish further from the road -- but why bother? A herd of elbows is a small price to pay for the enjoyment of "Fly Driving."
    .. Success, at "the holes," has come to the persistent fisher. Time, energy, and changing flies is the requisite practice. It sometimes pays off.
    .. Employing flies of various sorts is the normative discipline among the conga line fishers. Woolly Buggers, Spruce Flies, Silli Legs, and giant Soft Hackles are the primary weapons of choice.
    .. A few contrarians have migrated up the Gibbon River and been well rewarded. The holding water is, in many places, just too far from the road. 150 - 200 yards is just way too far to walk in search of giant fish.
    .. The arsenal is the same, the elbows fewer, the rewards greater, and the fishing easier. Still; it is 200 yards.
    .. The long walk to the Gibbon River just east of Tuff Cliff is not hard; even for old legs. The water is cold, clear, low, and productive. The dark holding water is clearly visible, and the elbows far away. We choose to walk a little rather than drive a lot.
    .. Catching resident fish along the lower Gibbon River is surprisingly easy this time of year. A soft hackle and some riffled water is about all that is needed for many entertaining dances of the NON-CONGA variety.
    .. There were a few caddis about 4:30 yesterday and they may have been the last of the year. We even took a couple of fish on the surface - damn flies wouldn't sink in the low flows.
    .. We frequently mention the lovely ladies at the Horse's Mouth in this section.
    .. We do it again here, with the addition of a swipe at the cold-addled brains of the Trout Underground.
    .. We suspect that it should not be difficult to deduce which lovely lady came from what source.
    .. If you really can't tell just click on the small images here for a better rendition on the original sites. Sexploitation and pure admiration are not verboten here.
    .. HDW Mobile seems to be missing in action. The last post sported some fine fall foliage from the upper Midwest: guns, dogs, reds, oranges, yellows, and the brother. They may be lost in the woods forever.
    .. Well, the biscuits are getting cold, the gravy is becoming a congealed mass of protoplasmic goo, and the second pot of coffee is about gone. Maybe it's time for breakfast and a quick dash to the park.