There was a bear claw calling my name and a large chocolate chip cookie I would save for tomorrow. Scott chose the “death by brownie”; he actually cut it in half and made it a 2-day treat! In Livingston we stopped at Albertson’s to buy food for dinner for the next 4 nights, plus some deli fried chicken and macaroni salad that we would eat for lunch today before fishing the Yellowstone River. We also stopped at Angler’s West Fly Shop and bought our 3-day fishing licenses for YNP. Even with the hours on the road, the stop at the bakery, grocery shopping, and the fly shop, we were able to fit in some time on the water. Thanks to Mark (Hellmtflies) for his advice about fishing the Yellowstone instead of trying to fish the Gallatin on a very busy day.
After leaving the fly shop, we continued south on U.S. Hwy 89. There were people float-fishing the river, but without any previous experience here, I couldn’t say if it was busy or not. We went to the access area where boats pull out before entering Yankee Jim Canyon. It was a great place to eat lunch and use the bathroom. A guy and a lady were casting from the shore with no success. She may have been using a streamer in the deep pool. Upstream from them, the water didn’t look too promising; downstream it looked better, but it would be difficult to access and wade. We opted to drive back upstream to fish at the Carbella Bridge access. There was 1 other truck in the parking area, but no one in sight. We rigged up and decided to walk upstream along the path past the deep slow pool above the bridge. There were some trees and shrubs between the path and the river, but they didn’t completely block your view. Suddenly, out of the trees, came a sight I’ve never seen before. There is a guy with a fly rod and he has 2 goats with him. He said he left his backpack upstream where he started fishing and was going back for it. He jumped on the path in front of me and the goats fell in behind him, so I just followed along.
We talked with him later in the parking lot. He is training the goats as pack animals to support his hike-in fishing trips. He said the advantages are: they can go places horses can’t and you don’t have to take any food for them because they will find their own.
The wading here was even harder than Rock Creek. Even near the edge of the stream, the water was fast and deep; however, what made it difficult were the rocks. There was no uniformity of size. There was no moving without looking—and looking carefully—at where you were stepping. I presume a lot more people float this river than wade. Scott quickly had a strike in the seam along the water’s edge, but his hook set didn’t hold and the fish was gone. I had better success and landed the 12-inch Whitefish on a soft hackle. We continued upstream until we reached the bend where the next section of the river was deep, still water. We also tried the water below the bridge; conditions and results were pretty much the same. I landed a 15-inch Whitefish that to my surprise took the big stonefly nymph.
While we were packing up the truck, 2 big rafts unloaded a bunch of kids who were joyriding on the river on a great, late-summer day. We headed south on the road and found our 4-unit condo that would be our base camp for 3 days of fishing in YNP. The back-side deck overlooked the Yellowstone River and the gas BBQ grill was part of our dinner plans. It was only 15 minutes farther south on Hwy 89 to Gardiner and the north entrance to YNP.
Our only previous experience in Yellowstone was in Sep of 2017 when we fished Soda Butte Creek for 3 hours to complete the WY Cutthroat Slam. On that trip, we entered at the south entrance, drove north past Yellowstone Lake and Canyon Village to Roosevelt Tower, then east through the Lamar Valley. We had logged more time driving in YNP than fishing! This trip provided an opportunity to fish new streams and see other areas of the park and perhaps fish Soda Butte again. These streams, on the west side of the park, were on our list as possible fishing spots: Gardner River, Gibbon River, Firehole River, Madison River, and Nez Perce Creek. The one non-fishing attraction on our list of places to visit was Old Faithful. Thursday morning brought by far the coldest temperature of the trip. When we departed at 0700, it was 28 degrees. We passed through Gardiner and arrived at the park entrance that was undergoing construction. We were car number 3 in a 4-car line. The lady looked at my lifetime pass, handed us a park map, and welcomed us to Yellowstone. We continued south passed Mammoth Hot Springs and stopped to check the Gardner River at Sheepeater Cliff. The water was mostly shin-deep riffles and it felt as though the temperature had dropped, so it was back to the truck and we continued south. At the Norris Geyser Basin, we had our first look at the Gibbon River. It paralleled the road and crossed sides several times as it flowed south and then west to join the Firehole at Madison Junction. It looked promising, although it’s really hard to be sure when you’re driving by at 35 mph. Next, we saw the Firehole flowing north to meet the Gibbon and form the Madison. We did stop to look at the river in 2 places. Both looked like great places to fish when a hatch was on and fish were rising. Everyone has seen that classic Firehole picture: a guy playing a fish while behind him a massive bison grazes next to the river while steam rises from the earth. Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t have that picture—maybe next trip! We continued south and committed to go see Old Faithful and fish when the temperature warmed.
The young couple in the other upstairs condo had warned us not to go see Old Faithful too early in the day when it’s cold. While you may beat the crowd, you won’t see much because the water will just turn to mist in the cold air. We arrived at 0945 to what seemed like a pretty crowded parking lot. I grabbed the nylon jacket from my bag in the back seat and put it over my shirt. Even with shorts on, this kept me warm enough so I’m guessing the temperature had climbed to 40 degrees. We followed the signs and crowd and took up our observation position. There was no clock counting down the time until the next eruption, but people nearby kept saying it wouldn’t be too long. We waited less than 20 minutes for Old Faithful to live up to its name.
Back in the truck, we headed north to Madison Junction and then turned left and drove toward the west entrance. You could easily see the Madison River just south of the road as it flowed through open meadow. We took a closer look at several pullouts. It was gently flowing water over weed beds and what looked like a soft stream bottom. Perhaps a great place to fish to feeding trout, but not our choice for today. We made a 180-turn and headed back east. Several park rangers had traffic stopped waiting for this elk to cross the road.
He appeared unsteady and favoring his left rear leg. I hope it heals before winter or he will become a meal for the local wolf pack. The Gibbon was in view again and seemed like a good choice for today’s fishing. There was a 1-car pullout just ahead and Scott pulled over. I jumped out and followed the path through the trees to check out the river below. Not only did the water look good, but there was a bonus waterfall.
I scrambled back up to the truck where we ate our lunch and rigged up. I started in the tail of the pool and Scott took the midpoint. It wouldn’t be soft hackles, as I planned for the Firehole or Madison, but I did fish the 9’, 2F Heddon for the 1st time. I tied on a stimulator with a green butt caddis pupa dropper and cast to midstream, where the water turned dark. After just a few casts, a fish slashed at the dry, but missed. Three casts later, he was back and hooked. He dove to the bottom, shook a few times, and just that fast—he was free! After checking my flies, I cast to the far side. Directly opposite me, the stimulator disappeared without a splash; I raised the rod and had a fish on the dropper. It was a very skinny 13-inch fish that probably displayed brilliant color 3 or 4 months earlier during spawning time.
The next pool upstream had a nice current that opened into a deep area. I replaced the stimulator with a hopper hoping to bring a big fish to the surface. Again, a few fish slashed at it, but no hookups. My theory is they were too small for these large flies.
Scott found a nice pool around the bend. Five fish couldn’t resist his red Copper John, but none were bigger than 10 inches. I continued upstream to the next good-looking spot. I saw a rise against the far bank, but the fish wanted no part of my hopper. Discouraged by the lack of surface activity, I switched to 2 nymphs and quickly hooked another fish. Scott took the next pool and I decided to return downstream. I rounded the bend just as a guy and 2 ladies finished their picnic lunch by the waterfall where we started. I tried the deep pool where I first tried the hopper, but had no success with my nymphs. Scott joined me and we headed downstream from where we first started. I continued fishing the nymphs, ever watchful for fish feeding on the surface. I never saw another fish splash, but no complaints since the Copper John and San Juan worm were popular with the locals. The wading was easy and water like this held plenty of small, but hungry fish.
We hoped to fish the Gardner between Mammoth Hot Springs and the park entrance on our way back to the condo. There was 1 nice parking area on the right-hand side; however, it was blocked off and marked closed. We continued out of the park and into the town of Gardiner. I’m not sure why the river (Gardner) and town (Gardiner) have different spellings. I wanted to check out the spot where the Gardner River joined the Yellowstone River. There was no good place to park, but Scott just pulled over and sat in the truck while I went town to check it out. Here is the junction, where the north-flowing Gardner enters the west-flowing Yellowstone.
This male elk had 2 females laying in the grass behind him, so I just returned to the truck. We drove north and sat out on the deck watching the river flow and planning our location for tomorrow.
Our choice for Friday was to re-visit Soda Butte Creek and check out the Lamar River too. At Mammoth Hot Springs, we took the road to the left and headed east. We passed the turnoff for Undine Falls and then the waterless Phantom Lake. At Tower Roosevelt we continued east and over the bridge that crosses the Yellowstone. We drove toward the rising sun and entered the Lamar River Valley.
The animal watchers were out in force with their giant viewing scopes. They filled every pullout and sometimes they just stopped in the road causing traffic to backup. We hoped to park and then walk through open meadow to the Lamar River, but before we could find a good spot, we saw the sign for Soda Butte Creek and reached the familiar parking area from our previous trip. There were 2 horse trailers and a half dozen cars in the lot and a line of people waiting to use the bathroom. We decided to walk downstream, fish our way to the junction pool, and then fish up the Lamar River. There were already several groups of people fishing Soda Butte Creek. The first group was 2 men and 2 pre-teenage boys. It’s always good to see young people actually outside without some type of electronic gadget. The next group seemed very interesting. A twenty something year old guy and a similar aged girl. He was dressed to fish and casting his fly rod. She was standing at the water’s edge, holding a long-handled net. I stopped and asked him how he convinced her to come along just to land any fish he caught. He replied, “Yesterday, I asked her to marry me.” She flashed a giant smile and held up her left hand. I congratulated them and continued downstream. I started with the same flies that worked here 3 years ago; a stimulator with my BWO nymph as a dropper. Unlike our last time here, when we fished in the afternoon, today there was no immediate success! One nice pool after another failed to produce a single fish. Before too long, we reached the Soda Butte/Lamar junction. I briefly talked with the guy fishing there who said historically Soda Butte has been kinder to him than the Lamar.
We stuck with our plan and headed up the Lamar. The first pool had some over-your-head-deep water. After fishing here, I was still fishless, but I made a decision that would eventually change my success. I removed the stimulator and based on advice from Dave (Loogie) in an earlier post, changed to a fly I never fished before. It was a Chubby Chernobyl; black foam and purple—yes, purple—dubbing. We walked upstream looking for holding water and fished a few more spots. We ended up walking along the bank 4 – 5 feet above the stream when I noticed a small, dark area along the edge.
I thought—that is worth a few casts and I can do it from up here; no need to walk back downstream and get in the water. On the first cast, I saw the trout’s form as it left the bottom and rose toward my Chubby. The fish was half-way to the surface when it turned away. Instant disappointment, but then—the Chubby sank; I raised the rod realizing the fish took the dropper. I had the fish hooked, but my hesitation cost me. The fish came back toward me then turned and headed upstream. As it did, the small nymph pulled out and I was still fishless. The water directly upstream looked still and current-less. We turned left and walked through the meadow back toward Soda Butte Creek.
There was a lot of old downed timber. The small line of trees had started taking on fall color. The haze from the fires had reached all the way here. As we neared the line of trees, I warned Scott, then blew the whistle on my dog tag chain a few times. Why take a chance surprising any large animals! We arrived back at Soda Butte upstream of where we started this morning. This is where my fishless day ended!
Wading and casting are easy on this open meadow water. For the next 90 minutes, every deep run had a 14 – 17 inch Cutthroat that wanted my flies. Plus, they favored the Chubby 3 to 1 over the size 22 3XL BWO nymph so an old nymph guy caught some really nice fish on a dry fly—thanks Loogie!
We ate a late lunch and then started the westbound drive. There were still plenty of cars in the pullouts and people watching for animals. Several times traffic stopped completely as bison crossed from one side of the road to the other. We didn’t need a scope to get a good look at this guy.
Fortunately, no one got out of their car to pet him or pull his tail. We thought about stopping to see Undine Falls or check out Lava Creek, but the condo’s deck overlooking the river and some beverages called louder.
Saturday would be our last day to fish before starting the 2-day drive back to Oklahoma. We chose the Gardner River. We wouldn’t have to drive far. Since Thursday morning was cold and Friday morning’s fishing was slow, we decided to go for breakfast before fishing and start later. We stopped to eat at the Yellowstone Grill; it’s right on the main street in Gardiner. You order at the counter and then they bring your food to the table, either inside or outside. The place is popular and the food was good. I imagine in summer, people are waiting in line to get in. We zipped right in at the park entrance too. The access area for the Gardner that is not too far inside the park was still blocked off. Fortunately for us, Mark had given us a tip on where to fish the river. As we approached Mammoth Hot Springs, there were people gathering near the visitor center. Some elk were feeding on the manicured lawn just like the previous 2 days. What made it different today was there were 2 male elk.
Only thirty seconds after Scott took this picture, the 2 males were in horns-locked combat. It was like something you see on National Geographic, except this was not out in an isolated meadow, but right in a busy area. People rushed in for a close-up view and pictures while the park rangers tried to move them back. We didn’t stop to see the winner crowned, but headed down the road in search of hungry fish.
It wasn’t raining, but it looked like it would; at least it wouldn’t be a cold, wind-driven rain. We put on jackets to keep us dry just in case. For a while there was a light mist, but it only lasted 5 minutes. While it was a hike down to the river from the road, this time, there was a path.
Today’s fishing would be nothing like yesterday’s! The rivers themselves were nothing alike, our fly selection was completely different, and the results; unfortunately, were different too. Pocket water versus meadow stream; large, weighted stonefly nymphs versus a dry-dropper; fish consistently landed versus 1 fish landed between the 2 of us. Oh, we hooked plenty of fish; we just struggled and couldn’t keep them hooked. It’s short line nymphing; it’s difficult wading that tires you out. It can also deplete your fly box; I left five stonefly nymphs attached to the stream bottom and 1 in the mouth of a large fish. Despite the result and frustration, I would fish this spot again—no hesitation!
We worked our way up the near side trying each pocket or short run between the rocks. Some of these spots are just a few feet wide and a few feet long. If your leader is 9 feet, you really don’t have much fly line out of the tip top. I just trap my fly line against the top of the cork grip with my right index finger. It’s more of a flip than a cast. Besides, my left hand is busy holding the wading staff as I move from pocket to pocket. My theory on why we lost so many fish is we were hooking them in the side of the mouth. Then, the fish dart from the pocket into the fast water, turn downstream, and your hook pulls out. I had 1 of my dozen fish within reach of the long-handled net, but even that fish escaped! Out of the 20 fish we hooked, here is the 1 fish Scott managed to net.
We walked up the path back to the car and ate lunch. We decided not to fish any other spots, but to just take in some of the sights around Mammoth Hot Springs and have an easy afternoon.
We stopped at the grocery store Gardiner for some Montana treats to take home.
The 2-day drive home was uneventful. Even the weather cooperated. We drove from Gardiner to North Platte, NE the first day and then just an 8-hour drive on day 2. We didn’t decide about a location for next year; however, we agreed it will be only a 1-day drive. Of course, options for next year will be impacted by what catches on fire this fall and winter snowpack. Scott dropped me off at my house and drove the last 10 miles home alone. Great trip, but there is—no place like home! Thanks to all who provided advice and thanks to our wives for sending us off on an outstanding 2-week adventure.
