Driving from the Billings airport to the world famous Bighorn River near Fort Smith Montana is not a beautiful drive by any stretch.  In fact, in Montana terms it’s pretty much the ugliest…in Montana terms….which isn’t that ugly.  But, it is flat and “deserty”.  You pass Custers Last Stand at the Battle of Little Bighorn on the way.  As my buddy Mike and I got close a seemingly giant bird swooped down and made a sudden u-turn right into the hood of my car with a thump.  I have learned through the years that you do not swerve for animals; it’s too dangerous.  As I looked out my rear view windows as I shouted to mike, “Was that a hawk?”  Mike said, “No, that was a pheasant.”  I could see an explosion of feathers as I pulled away and the carcass careening end over end as it rolled off the road.  I hoped that was not a bad omen of the fishing to come.

Blood on the Rental Car

The splatter of blood from the Pheasant I hit with my rental car on the way to the Bighorn

Well, we settled in our stuff at Cottonwood campground, talked to Kyle in the fly shop and got the intel and some flies and headed for the 3 mile takeout which is just a ½ mile drive.  It was mid-day after all the hatches so we rigged up with the bobber.  Kyle recommended a trailer that was a midge emerger pattern in size 20 tied with CDC; a pattern I had not seen before.  But, kyle said we’d do well.

We started fishing.  Mike went downstream and I went upstream.  Within minutes we lost sight of each other and I was alone in the wilderness; standing in a river waving a stick.  Just like I like it.  I was wet wading and the river was not too cold and the sun was hot.  The bighorn in this stretch was weedy like hot creek and just about the same depth in a non-drought year.  Within minutes a drift boat pulled up.  I waved and the guide said “how ya doin?”  I said, “3^rd cast; just got here from California.”  “California?” the guide said, “My boat is full of Californians.”   Then the angler in front squinted, looked at me and it went something like this: “Tim Huckaby?”  I shot back, “No way!”  And we all shook our heads smiling.  It was my buddy “Fred Gregory” from the San Diego Fly fisherman club.  A great fly fisherman, but more importantly a great guy.  Total coincidence that we were both on the same river at the same time.  I knew that would change the karma of killing that pheasant.  And it did.  Within minutes I hooked up with a good fish.  It ran towards the trees in the bank before I yanked it clear.  Then it ran mid river and ducked under the weeds where I had to coax it out.  At this point I yelled for Mike because I felt it was big enough that I needed help to land it.  But he was long gone.  I was all alone with a big fish and without a net.  Two anglers walked by laughing at me struggling.  It took me some time; probably too much time (5x).  but, I wrestled the 17” brown to a grassy patch on shore where I could take a quick picture and release.   “ahhh…” I said to myself.  “this is going to be a good trip.

Beached Brown near 3 Mile takeout

And this was all before the fun began.  Before 3 days of fishing from a drift boat.  What I had to look forward to the next day was the world famous trico hatch on the Bighorn.

The rest of the gang arrived late that night: Mike dad, mike’s brother Mark who is a very good fly fisherman and his lifelong buddy Eric Schmidt, a professional photographer from Bozeman and whom I was later to find out is just a great guy.

We tried to get out as early as possible because the tricos start at sunrise and the spinners follow, but you know how it goes that first day: there’s lots to do and it takes time.  We did get to the river in time to see a number of noses.  What I noticed first was that the boat was scaring the pods of rising fish.  We’d row to a pod and anchor and the fish would immediately go down and rise somewhere else.  It was obvious to me, but I didn’t have the authority in that boat to be listened to. So I was targeting the fish >40 feet away with my size 18 trico imitations and having a blast.  I was getting strikes and from that distance you can imagine my hookup rate was a bit low.  I even broke one off.  Totally fun.

Mike O’Laughlin Fishing the Dries

Mike fishing the risers with the dam at Fort Smith in the background

It was time for me at the oars and I was excited and a bit worried at the same time.  Excited because the oars are in my destiny.  Worried because it was only my 3^rd time doing it and I didn’t know what was in front of me and didn’t want to crash.  And, of course, worried because that 78 year old decided he needed to take the back of the boat so he could “help” by yelling at me when I made rowing mistakes.  Well I thought I was doing pretty well.  I was spotting risers and keeping at least 30 feet away because I knew the boat was spooking the fish, but he likes to fish right on top of them to make the under 20 foot cast.  And he let me know it.  After yelling at me to use my right arm instead of my left and tapping me on my right arm, I could help but think, “This is my 3^rd time doing this.  You are yelling at me and hitting me for the 2^nd time.  And you are the one that boat crashed us last year almost killing us and me losing $2500 of fly rods, gear, a camera and my phone”.  But, it didn’t come out of my mouth.  And I’m glad.  It’s his boat and at 78 he has earned the right to be cranky.  He is who he is.  Ultimately he got frustrated with my rowing “skills” and demanded to row again himself.  Quietly I moved to the back and armed myself with my Winston 6wt again.  Guess who won that battle?  🙂

The Bighorn is beautiful in its own way: check out the weed lines

I caught some good fish that first full day; we all did.  We floated the entire 13 miles.  But, the next day was going to be really fun.  It was going to be just me and my buddy Mike.

We got out a bit earlier the next day and Mike and I were ready so he suggested we just take off.  I said, “Sure.”  We didn’t know it would be a point of contention leaving the three of them behind.  They forgot to tell us they wanted to stay together.  Mike and I alternated fishing and were doing pretty well.  We both caught a good amount of fish above 16”, mostly browns.  But, we finished the 3 mile stretch way ahead of the other 3 and waited.  I got the Chargers on the radio who made a miraculous comeback over Detroit so it was kind of fun waiting.  But, by the time the other guys finished they were done.  They fished an entire day slowly and methodically on the first 3 miles.  Well mike and I were rested up so we went for a 2^nd session and drove the boat back to the dam at 5pm to put in.  On the way I knew exactly what I wanted to do.  I wanted to take the oars for the majority of the float and guide Mike.  Mike is not so possessed by fly fishing like his dad, his brother mark and me.  So, many times he ends up fishing the least without the practice and instruction.  And I wanted the practice on the oars on an empty river where I wasn’t apt to screw up to badly.  I told my plan to Mike and he liked it.  There’s no evening hatch on the bighorn at this time of year so I knew we were going to fish the bobber.  And I noticed a ton of great runs on the opposite side of the river in prior runs that we were going to concentrate on.  I rigged Mike up and we took off.  I navigated through the fast water to the other side of the river and we started killing.  I swear Mike was hooking up every 2 minutes.

Mike Hooking up again

We got to a deep hole where a creek flows in that just looks fishy.  I told mike where to cast, he did and whack!  But, he lost them.  I don’t know what got into me at that point.  But, I suddenly had a new found confidence in rowing and I said, “We are doing that again!”  And I started to back row.  And it was working.  I back-rowed to the head of the run and we did it again.  This time I said something like, “throw it farther and drag it by that rock.”  He did.  Whack!  I screamed the infamous Huckaby “Woo!” louder than I had in years.  And the fight was on.  Then I realized I had to chase it.  The fish ran down river and Mike held on.  Well Mike finally tired the little monster enough that I could net it and we high fived and I “Woo!”d again.  It was at this point I thought to myself, “I have not been more excited about hooking, fighting and landing a fish like that in years.  And I didn’t even catch it!  And we pressed on.  And Mike continued to kill.

Bighorn Monster

This was hands down my favorite part of the trip. Rowing that drift boat, guiding and not fishing and not catching fish was the absolute favorite part of this trip for me.

another bighorn monster

I was looking forward to day 3 too because I would get to float with Eric and Mark, lifelong buddies.  And I was confident behind the oars and insisted I take them to start the float.  I think they liked that.  They were trash talking each other pretty good and I dug that.  And we got out earlier.  But, the trico hatch just wasn’t prolific.  We fished the first couple hours just hunting rises and anchoring close enough to them.  Soon the spinners were blanketing the water and with so many on the water getting your fly to be chosen was a crap shoot.

When Eric told me to back-row the water coming out of the dam and I knew I didn’t have the skill nor the strength, but I tried…. I failed meagerly huffing and puffing, but at least I tried.  By the time it was my turn to fish I was doing the 40 foot casts and having a blast.  I caught really nice 19” rainbow.  In a river with mostly browns that was a special fish.  And he took that midge emerger dropped behind my trico that Kyle recommend.  And he took it in a sea of spinners.  When I got back to Cottonwood Ranch I tracked down Kyle, gave him a $20 and said, “I so owe you young man.”  I could tell he loved that.

I love the Bighorn.  It was my 3^rd go at it.  Overall the river was a bit slow and at times it fished like the Henry’s fork. I’d say I averaged 10 quality fish a day.  The dry fly hunt was really fun.  But, I gotta’ tell ya’ the guiding from the oars was the best.  I will treasure that first 2 hours at the oars with Mike whacking them for long time.

Sun Setting on the Bighorn

August 20th, 2015

Part of our deal with my son Mark was if he got good grades he could have a car his sophomore year in Bozeman at Montana State University.  As much as buying a car without sales tax in Montana is we just couldn’t afford to do that.  So, it was clear that an 1130 mile road trip from Carlsbad, CA to Bozeman, MT was in order to drive a car out, move him into his apartment, and then fly home.  I figured we’d take 3 days and fish 4 hours each day as we worked our way from pretty much as far south in the US as you can get to as far north.  Then I mapped the route on my computer and stared at possible fishing locations on the way.  “My God.” I said to myself.  “We are driving right by the Henry’s Fork of the Snake River!”  Arguably the most famous stretch of fly fishing in America and I have never been there.  It’s also just two hours short of Bozeman which makes it logistically complicated.  So, without telling him I made the call: we will drive all the way to Pocatello, ID in one day so we can fish a full day on the Henry’s fork.  It took us 11 hours to do that.  From Pocatello it was an easy 2 hour drive to the Henry’s Fork at Island Park, ID.

I did a ton of research on the Henry’s Fork before going.  And I talked to a lot of my fly fishing buddies and guides who have fished there.  Every single one said basically the same thing: “Prepare to be humbled.”  Then why so special?  I got the same answer from all of them: “It’s all dry fly casting to the rises of huge fish.” 

Much of the guidance I got was you have to stop in at the fly shop there in Island Park, ID (Trout Hunter) and get some guidance and buy some flies.  Now, I tie a lot of flies, but, I firmly believe that getting guidance from the fly shop should not be free.  so I always buy flies because of that.  And, this was special.  this was a bucket-lister.  So, I convinced myself I wouldn’t go cheap because they have genuine Rene Harrop flies there and those are not cheap.  $120 later and a ton of great advice Mark and I walked out of there with 8 sets of 4 flies.  Of course we had to buy two of the special floatant at $15 and Mark insisted he needed a few more things.  but, I bought $60 of flies and it’s so not like me to do that.  But, this was special.  It was fishing the Henry’s Fork with my son.

Technically I got skunked.  I never got a fish to my hand or to the net.  I hooked 8 fish in about 8 hours of fishing.  which matches up exactly to what I was told to expect.

Guidance

Here’s what I learned from the shop, my fishing buddies, and guides.  It may help you; it may not. Henry’s Fork is so different than anywhere else I have ever fly fished and it’s so interesting….at least to me it is:

• It’s extremely technical dry fly fishing.  You don’t need to do a perfect cast and drift: you need to do hundreds of them.  I loved it. I could have fished there 14 hours a day for 7 straight days and still been happy to get skunked. But, Mark, no so much.  There’s just so much a 20 year old who thinks he’s an expert fly fisherman can handle.  His classic comment was something like, “Let’s bail this place; It’s 60 miles to the Madison. I just don’t understand why not catching fish is fun to you.” 🙂

Mark with a Bad Attitude. The Trout Hunter in the background

• We just caught it on a slow day/week.  Mid august and a low river.  The first indicator was that there were only a handful of other fisherman in this 7 mile stretch of America’s most famous fly fishing river.  This place is supposedly shoulder to shoulder fishing…which I hate.  But, we had the river to ourselves which I Love.  
• The Henry’s Fork is Known for crazy ass hatches of multiple bugs.  We just didn’t see any significant hatches.  We did see bugs, but not the blankets of them I read about.  And consequently we just didn’t see a lot of rising fish. Also, they say it’s only big fish there. We found the opposite to be true. I caught a 3 inch fish. The biggest fish I hooked was only 12″ and probably 14″. 
• In a single day of fishing if you are upper intermediate or an advanced fly fisherman you can expect to hook up 3 times and lucky to land a single fish.
• You stand in the river and wait.  you wait for a rise and move to casting range.  If there is a hatch and you can figure out what it’s eating you are golden.  if not you keep changing flies until you do.  casting at a single fish for an entire hour is common on the Henry’s Fork.
• You never blind cast and it’s dry fly only.  You hunt and wait and casting at a rising fish…. never casting blind. So different. I thought I’d hate it because I’m such a 5 cast and move guy. But, I loved it!. I casted at a single rising fish for over an hour. I changed flies 8 times because I bought 8 different flies from the shop they recommended. And I still couldn’t fool him/her. I had to give up on him basically because mark was “done”.   I know if I had another hour I could have got him. 
• For Californians, in terms of look and feel, it’s like a giant hot creek. It’s a hot creek that is 100 yards wide. Crystal clear and weedy.  It’s different because you can wade it in every stretch of the river.  in August it’s an easy wade and crossable everywhere.  The gentleman’s rule of Hot Creek is you do not wade it.   The Henry’s Fork has that slow current just like Hot Creek and never more than stomach high (in august). No riffles, no pocket water, no tailouts… no real structure of any kind.  just one giant really good miles long run.

Because I didn’t land the huge Henry’s Fork rainbow I am now haunted by it.  I would love to go back and fish it for 3 straight days.  I have a son in Bozeman and it’s just 2 hours away.  hmmm….  

I say it all the time when I’m fly fishing, “It was the best $100 I ever spent.” What I’m talking about is the zipper on my Simms G4Z Waders. And I am frequently asked. The “Z” is for zipper. The zippered G4Zs are $100 more than the regular G4s. Without getting into gory details, many of us males over 40 have to go frequently. And if you fly fish you very well know what a pain it is to unbuckle to pull your waders down to pee. Guys in float tubes drown every year trying to pee when they flip over and get stuck…literally stuck with their pants down. If you add a jacket or sweatshirt to the mix it’s even more of a pain. Those you of you who steelhead know what a drenched ordeal it is to un-jacket, unbuckle, un-wader and pee while it’s raining or snowing sideways on you.

Is overcoming all that hassle and misery and risk worth it to you? I staved off the zipper for years. But, now that I have them I will never ever get another pair of waders without a zipper.

Many companies now have zippered models on their waders. Simms, HQ’d in Bozeman, MT is genuinely accepted as the best wader company in the world; certainly the best of the major manufacturers. But, Simms aren’t for everyone. And with an $800 price tag, the G4Zs aren’t for everyone by any stretch. I believe the G4Zs are the most expensive waders on the planet. But, if you aren’t a guide or a bushwhacker you really don’t need them.

You can buy new waders anywhere from $75 to $800. What’s right for you? Well, if you fish 1-3 times a year from a drift boat the $75 models are going to be great for you.

If you fish more than 60 days a year you are going to need something durable like the G4s. If you bushwhack you definitely need the G4s or one of the competitive products. I’ll do almost anything to get to good water: That includes climbing over fallen trees, sliding down a granite face or climbing a mountainside.

I’m the cheapest guy in the world and I internet shop the hell out of everything. Well, the G4Zs are just one of those products. You could search for months and never find a deal. So, if you are one of those old guy fly fisherman who are hard on the waders like me. Do yourself a favor and get the G4Zs.

You can buy them from the North Platte River Fly shop here. I like those guys. Great customer service.

Tim Huckaby with Captain Chris Wiggins. Tarpon, 8 foot, 160 lbs

July 10th, 2015 – I should have known it was going to be a special day.  In the morning I was fly fishing and a manatee swam up to within 5 feet of me, stopped and stared at me for a few seconds.  My Bucket list is getting so full I may have to get a new bucket!  Because I caught a Tarpon that was just short of 8 feet long and over 160 pounds!

The day went like this: I got up early after a late flight that didn’t get me to my hotel in Tampa until 12:30AM.  Early the following morning I drove an hour South near Bradenton Beach, FL to a lagoon that a local fly fisherman turned me on to a few years back.  It’s behind a beautiful beach and it takes quite the nasty and super creepy bushwhack through the mangrove trees to get to a shallow part of the lagoon suitable for fly fishing.  Once in the lagoon there is life everywhere.   It’s quite beautiful and although I have never done very well fly fishing in there it is the perfect place to practice my cast on my Orvis Helios II 10 foot 8 Wt. 

I had about 3 hours to fish before I drove half the way back to meet all my Microsoft Partner advisory council buddies at a marina near St. Petersburg for a half day of guided conventional inshore fishing in Tampa Bay. 

I noticed a lot of movement in the water in places I just couldn’t reach.  and I probably fished an hour before getting struck.  The fish shot like lightning to my right and as quickly as it happened it was gone; bummer.  But, that was a good sign!  And it was just a few casts after that when I saw the big V wake about 100 feet away and closing.  When it got to around 60 feet I casted, perfectly, but nothing.  in my haste I tried to cast again when the thing took a hard left turn and closed in on me.  It wasn’t until it was about 20 feet away that I could see down into the water with my polarized lenses that it was a Manatee!  A huge one.  he/she stopped just 5 of so feet in front of me and we stared at each other for a few seconds.  Then the rest of the Manatee tribe closed in; at least five of them.  And they all swam away.  I immediately called Kelly and said, “You are not going to believe what just happened to me.”  The video I took doesn’t do it justice because my camera doesn’t have a polarized lense, but it’s still pretty awesome.

Here is the video i took:  Manatees

I just knew that was going to turn my luck and sure enough a few minutes later I caught and released a ray, But, since I don’t know their ocean I couldn’t tell if it was a sting ray or not.  So, I was very careful when I released it.  I fished some more and did okay and was all smiles as I hiked the beach back to my rental car.  That 3 hours was good enough to be a great day.  But, it just got better.

7 of us took off on two guided boats out of Oenida Marina just south of St. Petersburg.  on my boat was my buddy Tom O’Connell who has fished with me a few times before.  Tom is a CEO mentor for me and a great friend.  Also joining us was Scott Gosling from Brisbane, Australia who I met for the first time….and now we are lifelong friends.  We were being guided by Chris Wiggins of Salty Dog Charters.  I will fish with Chris again.  I highly recommend him if you are going to be in the Tampa Area. (727) 479-5455.  I knew it was going to be fun because I talked to Chris on the phone when arranging the fishing.  Chris is no stranger to fly fishing.  His dad has a place on a river in Montana.  He told me to bring my rod, but we probably would not run into a scenario where it made sense to fly fish.  I understood.  Not a problem.  I’m not weird about conventional fishing like so many of my fly fishing brethren are.  But Chris did tell me the fishing was slow, but picking up. 

We pulled up to some boats that push the oil tankers in and it was slow.  Even though we had live bait we had only managed to catch a few fish in a couple hours.  We were catching snapper like the one above and catfish.   I think I only caught a couple fish, but was still pretty happy about it.  I could tell Chris was bothered by it.  So, he decided we were going to go hunt.  Mainly for redfish.  I have caught redfish before and they are really fun.  but, it was still pretty slow the next couple hours. 

That is when Chris saw a tarpon roll off in the distance.  He said something like, “if it’s going to be slow we may as well try to catch a tarpon.”  So he drove the boat to the spot and anchored.  In my mind I said to myself “We are done.  I’m going to start drinking a lot of beer.”  Fisherman go their whole lives trying to catch a Tarpon and fail.  On my fly fishing TV shows they dedicate entire episodes to fishing for tarpon and many times fail.  I knew just how hard it is and how lucky you have to be and how much skill and physical strength it takes.  Tom and Scott did not…but, they would soon learn. 

First it was Chris that hooked up.  He’s a big guy and was getting man-handled by the prehistoric fish.  I was laughing the entire time.  I just couldn’t believe the luck of hooking up with a tarpon.  And when I saw that fish bringing his face to a strained, sweaty and concerned look I really doubted we’d land it.  But he did!  I was laughing and in shock and totally excited.  We were done as far as I was concerned.  It was the perfect day. 

We started fishing again and sure enough Tom Hooked up and was battling a tarpon!  Now, I was really laughing.  I just couldn’t believe it.  2 tarpons hooked and it wasn’t even tarpon season!  You could tell the adrenaline was running hard in Chris too.  He was stoked and because he is a such a good guide he turned a slow day into a great one.  That’s what good fishing guides do.  Tom got his tarpon to the boat and I was “Woo!”ing and high fiving and laughing.

“Tim, we gotta’ get you one.”, Chris said.  I was skeptical.  But, sure enough I hooked up, the tarpon jumped high.  I bowed to him and the fight was on.  He jumped again and then  ran on me.  the drag was signing and I was close to spooled when the line snapped.  I snapped him off on 60 lb flouro.  Chris said the fish must have scraped me against one of the deep pilings.  The boys tried to console me, but I was totally stoked happy.  And I felt blessed.  Those who fly fish with me know that I enjoy my buddies catching fish much more than catching them myself. 

It was getting late in the day and we were only supposed to fish 2 to 6, but the fishing was good so Chris asked us if we wanted to fish more.  The answer was obvious.  And I hooked up again!  This time I battled, but the fish never jumped.  I could tell it was huge because of the pull.  But, it never jumped and we never saw it because I snapped off 60 lb test again!  “Darn, the lord is just not going to make this the perfect day.” I said to myself.  Now the boys were really bummed.  I promise you I was not.  Chris said he had not had a fisherman snap off all season and I had snapped off twice. I felt blessed to have hooked to of them.  Well, since we never saw the second one and because it snapped off I really think it was one of those huge bull sharks they have.  I just think the shark teeth cut the line. 

It was now 7PM and time to leave.  We casted a couple times and Chris said to reel them up; the day was done.  I made two turns on the reel and whack!  I got struck like a freight train.  On the last cast!  This could not be more perfect!  The tarpon immediately jumped about 50 yards out.   I was shocked at the size and went into total concentration mode, but I believe Chris said something like, “That is a huge tarpon.  I have to call my wife because we are going to be late.”  The fight was on and I have to admit I was worried I’d have the strength or the stamina to fight that fish.  And a fight it was.  Once I started to really get my ass kicked, Chris untethered the anchored and chased the fish.  Thank god.  Because it would have spooled me.  I had barely anything left in the tank when I finally wrestled this huge prehistoric monster to the side of the boat so Chris could unhook it and release it to fight another day.  It was too huge to haul up on the boat so I was really pleased that Chris lifted out of the water far enough for a picture.  A picture that I will cherish forever.

To me the battle seemed like over an hour.   Chris said it was more like 35 minutes.  My arms, legs and back were all cramping.  I was breathing heavy like I had just sprinted up a staircase.  I was dripping in sweat head to toe.  I have not done anything that physical for that long in years.  Chris said that tarpon was between 50 and 75 years old.

What a day!  We ended up hooking 7 tarpon and landed 3 of them.  I was ecstatic about it because people go their entire lives trying to catch a tarpon and never catch one; I was clearly lucky on this day.  We didn’t get back to the marina until after 8pm.   I drove away with both arms twitching and a huge smile on my face.  I thought I would sleep great that night and I didn’t because I was in so much pain; more pain than alleve can handle.  And that was just fine.