In front of the famous (in some circles) Bud Lilly's Fly Shop in downtown West Yellowstone, Montana sits a grizzly bear proof trash can. They are all over the downtown area in fact. I asked if they really had problems with bears right there in the streets, and was told "not since we installed those."
After fishing several days on the Henry's, famous for dry fly fishing, I had my best dry fly fishing of the trip yesterday on the Firehole in Yellowstone. The pale morning dun hatch, which they say has been on every morning for weeks, was off yesterday. The only bugs on the water were little cream caddis flies and the trout were eating them aggressively. I had flies for this hatch because they have been active in the evenings, so I tied one on yesterday morning and caught 20 or more trout, rainbows and browns, and several in the 14" range.
They tailed off mid-day so I went and explored the Gibbon River, first driving past . . . .
Gibbon Falls.
View of the Gibbon upstream from the log I sat on to ate lunch
The Gibbon looks like a delightful little brook trout stream, and it is. I caught some brookies on nymphs in the calm water. . . .
And on dry flies in the cascades.
The Gibbon is at a higher elevation then the Firehole, and I only saw these little yellow flowers up high.
This is also on the bank of the Gibbon.
The brookies were small and almost too easy to catch. A girl watched me fish a while and asked lots of questions. She was about 9 and there with her mom and dad. I loaned her my fly rod and taught her a simple roll cast, and she hooked a fish on her first cast! She was over the moon with excitement and didn't keep the line tight, so it got off the hook. Yellowstone requires you to mash down the barbs on all hooks so that happens a lot. On her third or forth cast, she got another one and brought it in.
Her mom asked some questions and may have been about to offer to buy my fly rod, but paled when I told her what I paid for it. I suggested that they could rent one.
I'd like to think I contributed to someone becoming a fisherperson someday. I thought of my girlfriend's nephew. Before I knew him, there was a time when I smoked cigars while fishing hoping to keep families with kids away from me.
When I was done with catching little brookies, it was too early to expect the caddis back on the water at the Firehole. So I drove the long way around and explored.
I only saw these growing down slope and down wind from the thermal areas. I wonder if they like the acid or some mineral carried by the steam.
Field of those same yellow acid lovers.
This cloven hoofprint is way to big for an elk and there's no cattle here. Must be a bison. The knob on the walking stick is about egg sized.
More bison sign. Pioneers used these for cooking fires on the prairie. Fortunately my tuna didn't need cooking.
I only saw these growing down slope and down wind from the thermal areas. I wonder if they like the acid or some mineral carried by the steam.
Field of those same yellow acid lovers.
This cloven hoofprint is way to big for an elk and there's no cattle here. Must be a bison. The knob on the walking stick is about egg sized.
More bison sign. Pioneers used these for cooking fires on the prairie. Fortunately my tuna didn't need cooking.
I stopped at Nez Pierce Creek, and had to cross a marshy area to get to the water. I decided it didn't look too fishy, but I saw several flowers, including these yellow ones . . . .
. . . . and this purple thing that looks just like red clover, maybe with a longer stem. But there were only a few scattered ones.
In Missouri this would be called a deer rub, and it would be smaller. It's where an animal rubs its antlers to play fight or to clear off the velvet-like "skin" that grows on them. This rub is big and there are several more on the trees behind. I wonder if it's elk or mule deer?
This sorta salmon colored flower was in the shade in a small clump of lodgepole pines by the river.
So were these. They are tiny; you could crowd all three blooms on a dime.
We have similar but different thistles in Missouri, and in Indiana where they were a scourge on my Grandpa's farm.
. . . . and this purple thing that looks just like red clover, maybe with a longer stem. But there were only a few scattered ones.
In Missouri this would be called a deer rub, and it would be smaller. It's where an animal rubs its antlers to play fight or to clear off the velvet-like "skin" that grows on them. This rub is big and there are several more on the trees behind. I wonder if it's elk or mule deer?
This sorta salmon colored flower was in the shade in a small clump of lodgepole pines by the river.
So were these. They are tiny; you could crowd all three blooms on a dime.
We have similar but different thistles in Missouri, and in Indiana where they were a scourge on my Grandpa's farm.
These were growing hard against the trunk of a big pine
Can't remember where I saw these pretty blue ones.
On the way back to the Firehole, I saw a cluster of cars and people, and then the reason for the excitement. This was the best my camera could do, on max zoom, standing as close as I felt safe. There were folks getting much closer. I waited until I could get a picture with no people in it.
Wish I had a video camera with a powerful zoom. The dust was kicked up by the calves, frolicking like kittens.
Blow-up image of bison calf
Classic back-of-a-nickle profile
I struck camp this morning. I'm headed into the park for one more morning on the Firehole, then I'm headed to the lower Madison to fish the salmonfly hatch.
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