Twenty-one

I hit the Madison this afternoon at 5pm. Upon a river crossing, I began fishing Golden Stones on a down stream drift to the undercut banks.  There was a guide just upstream about to finish his day so I didn’t think he would mind me fishing the run a 100 yards below his boat.  A large brown  rose on my 3rd drift, but he only flashed the fly.  I waited a couple of minutes, tied on another imitation but could not raise him again.  This continued until the sun went behind the mountains.  These trout have seen quite a few bug bugs during the past several days and were very weary.  After walking downstream about 30 minutes, I started my way upstream.  This fish pictured above refused my Golden Stone twice, but 40 minutes later he nailed it on the first drift.  It was an epic battle trying to keep him out of the various log jams, but 6lb Maxima is strong shit.  There is no other place quite as magical as the Madison River in mid-July.  The wild flowers dot the river bottom like stars in the sky and the hatches of caddis, stones and mayflies will rival any river in the world.  Our trout are strong and hungry. 

What are you doing this week?  You should be jumping on a airplane and standing knee deep by the evening spinner fall.

   A classic Madison rainbow