Yellowstone :: Slough Creek
A Yellowstone to Remember
Four guys and five years of fishing the Yellowstone Park area. This is the one of the best fly fishing areas of the world and we have explored all areas of the park at different seasons of the year -- from Bechler Meadows, Fire Hole River, Madison River, Gibbon Meadow, and the Yellowstone River. We all work together in Atlanta, Georgia and share the passion of trout fishing. We come from different areas of the country, Bob from Wisconsin, John from Texas, Steve from Lower Georgia and I from Alabama. Our friendship developed at work but more from our fishing adventures. It is the areas of
Yellowstone Park where it all started and where Fish-n-Fowl fish tales began.
In early 2008, we were planning a new fishing adventure and not planning go to Yellowstone. The year turned out differently than expected. Our plan was to travel to Canada, Bob’s home area, to fly fish for Northern Pike and Brookies -- another story. We made arrangements and planned everything but the Canadian weather. As the departure days neared, we continued to check the weather with the local outfitters. The lake did not thaw out as normal and planes could not land on the lake. We were so pumped to fish after months of planning and boxes full of new fly patterns, disappointment was not a strong enough word to describe the way we felt. Frozen lakes? Most of us Southern fishermen found it hard to visualize frozen lakes. But, the trip had to be cancelled.
So what to do now? How can we make it through the year without a fishing adventure?
A new plan was developed over beer and tacos during lunch. We checked the western areas for end of May trips and the outfitters on the Missouri River said the bite was going very strong. Mother’s Day Caddis were hatching and the river flows were great.
We do a lot of local float tube fishing in the rivers and lakes. We love the freedom and accessing the fishing areas that we can reach with the tubes. So after a few more frantic calls we could not resist, and immediately planned a trip to the Missouri River. We found a place on the river where we could float and take out at the cabin. Sounded like our kind of trip. Two days before we were to leave for the west, the outfitters called to report that the dam had been released for the winter flows. Water flows went from 800 cfm to 8,000 cfm in two days. No go again. Twice in one month. Depression really set in. With major draught conditions in the south this year, the summer fishing would be horrible.
All work and no fishing and July’s end loomed. Then out of the blue, John came to my desk and said; we are going to Yellowstone. Our favorite area, the northeast corner, is the destination of Sough Creek and the Lamar River basin. The Cutthroats are very active during the summer months and provide a great opportunity to catch these fish on dry flies all day. Fares are good and we can still enjoy the summer. We know how, where and what to do. Bob was out of the office that week and we booked the trip for him, knowing he would be in.
It didn’t take two moments and we were on the telephone to the airlines and setup a place in Silvergate. We would concentrate on the northeast area for 3 days of heaven. Our days were planned, first to fish the Soda Butte area, next the Lamar Valley and last Sough Creek Valley.
We have learned that hiking a few miles from the main road in Yellowstone to the backcountry will pay dividends of less people and less fish pressure. We planned three days of hikes and a lot of Cut fishing with terrestrials. This is how the trip shaped out.
Day One: Soda Butte
We arrived in Billings, Montana and crossed the Beartooth Mountains into Silvergate. What a beautiful drive. We had never entered the park from this direction and it was a breathtaking drive to go into the high elevation above the tree line. Snow peaked mountains loomed in the distance. The air was clear, the temperature just right -- and the fish beckoned. We arrived mid day, got our fishing licenses and stocked up on hiking food before we headed to the creek. You know you just can’t wait.
Once we reached the mountains, the weather changed to overcast skies from bright and sunny skies. Weather does change quickly in Yellowstone. We arrived on stream around 3:30pm and quickly went to Soda Butte Creek. We all started fishing and remembering the joy this area brings.
We had arrived in one of the most beautiful areas of the world, excited and eager to start fishing. Thirty minutes on the river with a couple of Cuts coming to our offerings, the western sky over the Lamar Valley turned dark with clouds heading our way. No big deal, because rain and wind is sometimes your best friend for these spooky fish. Like most good fishermen, we were prepared. No we weren’t. In our haste to fish, we all left the rain gear in the car not wanting to waste any time packing and carrying all of that gear.
The storm arrived. First very stiff cold winds. Heavy rain and lighting was next and then very large head knocking hail. We all sat on the ground and tried to cover our heads from the golf ball sized hail. For 15 minutes we were pounded. The temperature dropped from a nice 50 to a frigid 25 and we were wet and now freezing. We tried to continue fishing but Steve, John and I got very cold and headed back to the car where all of our gear was to redress and return to the stream. Dark set in quickly and we packed up to head to the cabin. But Bob had wondered down river and was nowhere to be seen. He had braved the storm and cold and was rewarded as night fall came. He landed a couple of 15-16 inchers. What a dedicated fisherman! However, he was blue and shaking when he reached the car but with a huge smile that warmed everyone else.
Day Two: The Lamar River and Cache Creek
This day we had planned to split up and fish different areas of the park. John wanted to spend part of the day driving to Brookie streams and enjoying the beautiful park scenery. Bob and I had never fished the Lamar River beyond eye sight of the main road. So we went our separate ways, with Steve joining John in search of Brookies.
The weather once again had changed to a bright, clear, sunny day. We planned to hike to the confluence of Cache Creek and the Lamar River, working our way down river back to the valley. This is about a three mile hike and offers a lot of river to explore. The hike is of medium difficulty and no major vertical mountains to traverse. The trail arrives at Cache Creek and is ¼ - ½ mile above the confluence. The trail, if there was a trail, to the Lamar River was not evident. One stretch was through a tall willow grove, and we just knew that a moose would be looming around each corner. So two grown men warily proceeded toward the river making an occasional noise to let whatever was out there know we were coming. Once we arrived at the Lamar River, the water was perfect. The cuts were very hungry but relatively on the small size. As we progressed downriver the trout got larger but harder to find, mostly at cover and at good river channels. The river has canyon areas so you do have to hike back down the trail to access the lower areas. On the hike in and along the river, we did not run into any people, but on the trail back down a group of park rangers were headed to the upper camp areas to check the camps. They checked our fishing licenses which made us feel like they do a good job in caring for the park resources.
We learned that on the Lamar River a lot of hiking is required to find the holding areas of the fish. It is a free boulder river that is difficult to traverse. As night neared, we were at the lower valley near the Soda Butte confluence and prepared to fish for the small bugs of evening. The Baetis and PMDs would be hatching, so we put the big terrestrials down and switched to small flies and soft hackles. The big boys also are more likely to be feeding in the evening as well. We did hookup on a couple of 15” cutthroats before the night took over.
The other guys had a great day as well with the Brookies and their sightseeing adventure. They even stopped and caught a couple of Rainbows in the Gibbon Meadow, a tough fish. It was a great day in fishermen’s paradise.
Day Three: The Slough Creek Valley
This is our favorite stream for cutthroats and the most strenuous of the hikes that we do on our trips. We had planned to hike in and out to the third meadow, 9 miles in - 9 miles out, and all day fishing. We had this last day to take it all in before the normal life would start once again back in Atlanta. The first part of the hike starts at the base of a vertical hike of 400’ over the first mile so the start of the hike is rough since it is daybreak, you have been fishing for two days and the muscles are slow to wake. But away we go with a quick step because we know the rewards at the end of the hike, large cuts and great fishing. The hike in the valley is always pleasant once the first mountain is cleared. You see the first meadow after 3 miles as you clear the woods and your spirits and adrenalin kick in for the next 6 miles. Sough Creek is a perfect meadow stream with its meandering curves that travel through the valley. Most people know summer cutthroat fishing as big terrestrials. On Sough Creek, we have found that the early mornings are 20’s -24’s small PMD’s and Baetis. Also, at certain times of the day, the caddis can be the ticket, but make no doubt; the terrestrials are the most fun and successful fly pattern to use throughout the day.
We arrived at the park ranger’s cabin after the two hour hike around 7:00am. We immediately dropped our day packs to rest and gear up for the start of the fishing day. John jumped on to the porch and took a look into the window only to be shocked as a man and woman ranger team sat up in their joint sleeping bag and waved through the glass. We all got a big laugh as John backed up with his eyes wide and bugging out. A few minutes later the two rangers come out after being disturbed from their bed. We are sure John will never be the same. But back to fishing.
The day started out with small flies and eager cuts. The river was active, sparkling with reflections of early sun and hunger fish. The day continued with terrestrial strikes and wonderful hookups. The black cricket was the best fly of the day with the rainy hopper being another good selection. We each caught our share of big cutthroats.
But as good as the day was; the hike back is always an adventure. And this day would be an exceptional end to a great fishing day. We started on the two hour hike back with dusk just starting to take over the day. We reached the mountain section and took one last break before taking the last three mile trek over the mountain. Stephen and I started up first and struggled up the incline. It was a slow climb with tire muscles and weak legs. Just one mile up and then over.
All of a sudden, Stephen who was slightly behind me quietly said, “Hey, did you hear that.” I hadn’t heard anything, concentrating on placing one foot in front of the other. But then, I did hear the sound. It was a growl – a definite growl. We stopped, freezing where we were on the path and heard the sound again. Looking ahead on the trail 200 feet in front by a tree was a bear. Yes, a bear -- a big black bear. We were then joined by Bob and John. What to do? We decided to try and go around so we headed off the trail and up the mountain. For some reason the bear headed that way too. He wasn’t in a hurry and didn’t seem interested in us. He just moved up the mountain parallel with us. We lost sight of him behind a big rock at a bend in the trail. John, not learning from his earlier experience at the cabin, said, “I’ll go stand on the rock, see which way he headed, and take a picture.” We, of course, told John in so many words that he was crazy and that wasn’t a good idea. The bear, we are sure, weighed over 300lbs easy. But John climbed the rock and the next thing we hear was John yelling. “He’s right here! He’s here!” We had never seen a grown man leap so fast and so far off a boulder or move with such speed after hiking and fishing all day. He ran back our way and didn’t even get a picture.
We moved back down the trail in the opposite direction of the bear. We think he continued up the mountain, probably more afraid of the cry of banshee that pierced his peaceful meandering, or, laughing at John and not sure how to deal with us. We made it passed the bear and kept one eye behind us the rest of the way out. What a day and what a memory.
It was a great trip once again, and Yellowstone Park lived up to its reputation as a world class fishing destination and one of the most beautiful areas of the world. This was a Yellowstone trip to remember.
-Jeff Purdy
