This past summer was my first summer spent working at a fly fishing shop. Getting to know everyone has been an awesome experience, but one thing I've noticed about each person is that they have a strong preference as to where and how they fish. For example, Karlie really loves Henry's Fork. And if you streamer fish on it, she'll kill you. Ryan likes to float just about anywhere, but he does prefer being in a boat, and he actually would rather throw a streamer than just about anything. Jim seems to have fished a ton of different places in Montana, but right now he heads up to special portions of the Gallatin that will forever remain unnamed. Toby doesn't care where he's going to fish, because (goddamnit) he's going to catch bigger and better fish than you. Maybe I'm in the minority, but I adore alpine fly fishing. The entire process of preparing to fish in an alpine lake makes me weak at the knees and gets me through the winters. First, you have to find a lake you want to explore and hope there's a trail that gets you to it without too much bushwhacking. Then, you've gotta prepare your backpack. You see, unlike fishing from a boat or parking a car alongside the road and wading, alpine fishing often requires you to hike a minimum of 3 miles into the backcountry and you need to carry everything on your back. I guess, if you're lucky, your dog might help out. Then, after all of the dreaming, planning and packing - you finally get to drive to the trailhead and hit the trail! Of course, it's important to take all of the usual backcountry precautions (bear spray and sunscreen), but even just having to hike and "earn" your way to the fishing hole makes the entire process a bit more valuable. Upon reaching the fishing hole, the work has only just begun. Again, unlike other fishing options, alpine fishing often doesn't come with a "Fishing Report". The fisher has to look around and realize what's available for bugs at the time. But perhaps the hardest part is not spooking the fish. Alpine lakes and streams are notoriously crystal clear, most being filled and fed by snowmelt. The fish, while not the Moby Dicks of the trout world, are easily spooked by a splash/shadow/sound/bad dance move and so the approach is important. It's worth it because these fish are inexplicably gorgeous. Again, not the biggest fish in the world, but the colors are outstanding and damn, they're feisty. After all of the preparation and all of the fishing, you've still got to either 1) set up camp and make dinner or 2) hike back to the trailhead and head home. Then, to add to the pressure, the fishing season is significantly shorter. Due to the temperature difference between the valleys and the mountains, the lakes often aren't ready to fish (at least, dry fly) for a few weeks after the main rivers start fishing well. At the tail-end of the season, the snow hits the upper parts of the mountains first and will cut the season short long before the rivers start to ice over. Getting after it in the alpine is a fast and furious season and not lackadaisical in any sense. So what draws me to this version of fly fishing? I have no idea. But I love it. I love going to the places where no one else will. I love standing in ice cold water surrounded by a cirque of mountains and seeing snow in July. I love having to really think and plan the entire experience. Maybe what I love most is having to earn my fish. Whatever style of fishing you love, I'm glad you get excitement from connecting with our watersheds and fish. Whether you’re throwing streamers on the Yellowstone or hiking 5 miles to an unnamed lake and camping for a few nights lakeside, treasure it. Not everywhere is as lucky as we are to have beautiful waters and healthy fish. **Post originally published on the Fins and Feathers Blog.
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As my previous post mentioned - learning is most fun (for me) when shared with others. I've actually been reflecting on that idea, alongside many others, often throughout this past summer and fall of fishing. I realized that, if I really want to be a positive change agent in the world of fly fishing and water conservation, the education needs to begin somewhere and with someone. In my experience, oftentimes the most educational settings are when you are doing an activity with other people and engaging in conversation that is more than just small talk. Sure, there is probably small talk to begin with, but eventually you can dive deeper into the ideas of what people truly value and believe. In those conversations, learning happens. Oftentimes, more than the learning that happens in institutions of education. I experienced this reality just last month when I accompanied/chaperoned a trip to Yellowstone with my 7th grade students. While I don't regularly teach all of them (they have the option of choosing to do band with me or not) - I did teach 99% of them last school year. I have a solid "teacher/student" relationship and feel that I know their learning styles and preferences well. That being said, it was only after going fishing with two of them (the only two to bring their rods along), that I really started to know them. In being able to spend time on the river with them, I was able to learn about them as individuals. What hobbies do they actually do? What is their life at home like? What are they hoping for in the future? And they were able to learn about me. Why did I move to Montana? Why did I choose to be a music teacher? What do I really think about x, y, and z? From there, I was able to talk with them about the river, the ecosystem and why fishing with respect is so important. Yes, fishing is fun. It's an absolute blast, really. But it's also an incredible way to learn about what is happening in our environment at that very moment. If the water is too warm, the fish are going to show it. If there is an invasive species taking over, you know that you'll find out based on what you catch. So on and so forth. In turn, these two students taught me a lot about their understanding of the natural world around them. Both are hunters and, with the fall rut occurring, they explained to be how the behavior of elk changes and why it's important to be exceptionally cautious around these beautiful animals. The education I gave (and received) over those few hours of morning fishing (and then again later that evening) were the highlight of that trip into The Park - which is saying a lot, considering how many exceptional things we did together. I don't know if the students feel the same way, but I do know that they went home and told their parents about it almost immediately. If even one nugget of conservation that I shared with them stuck, I'll consider the trip a success. In my mind, that little bit of knowledge will encourage them to look deeper and ask more questions about their environment and the policies surrounding our natural world. Hopefully, their curiosity will encourage them to get involved as they grow older and become two more voices for conservation efforts in a state filled with so many treasures that we need all the voices we can get. Best, A As my bio mentions, I am a music educator. It was my career that brought me to the wonderful state of Montana. Montana is where I was introduced to fly fishing. It's funny how one choice (like whether or not to stick with band in high school), can have massively rippling effects 11 years later. Or even just 4 years. The summer prior to moving to Montana, I adopted Koda from the Sioux Falls Humane Society. He has become my best friend and #1 hiking and fishing companion. I've noticed that a lot of blogs thrive off of hyperbole. Things are the "absolute best" or the "most amazing" - perhaps sometimes more elegantly stated than those examples, but still exaggerated. I'm not prone to hyperbole and I can't confidently state that I am going to write about the "most amazing fishing places" or "the best experience on the river" - because all of the fishing places are good and any time on the river is better than no time on the river. My entries will more likely be a discussion of things that I've been thinking about while fishing or hiking, and your input in the comments section is encouraged! I'm still learning about fly fishing. I'm still learning about life. And learning is so much more enjoyable when you get to share your discoveries with others. Best, A |
AuthorBorn and raised in the flatlands of South Dakota, Andrea found her heart at home in the mountains of Montana. While she fly-fishes for 12 months of the year, she also teaches K-8 Music and Band for 10 months of the year. Archives
June 2016
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