Eventually the midday period of cold rain ended at The Shed. Dad and I were comfortably dry and ready to catch some more fish. We walked down the road to fish a different braid of the river. On the way, we saw both white tails and muleys.
We worked our way upstream from our starting point, fishing streamers. We weren't doing great. We moved a fair amount of fish, and I missed a couple bruisers, but with the exception of one smaller brown that I got immediately neither of us would have gotten a fish on the way up. On the way down, my dad nymphed a wild rainbow. By the time we got back down to the bridge we had started at, there was a pretty solid beatis hatch on and quite a few heads up.
|I wish these had hatched in better numbers... I like big bugs and I cannot lie!|
That night, with a temperature of 35 degrees Fahrenheit, an impressive thunderstorm rolled through. I was beyond impressed. I'd seen thunder-snow before, but a full on cellular thunderstorm with ground level air temperatures below 50? Nope. Never. Mountains create some crazy weather.
This was actually the first little bit of our last day of fishing in Montana, but it was just a prelude to the incredible fishing we were about to experience.
To be continued....