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Finishing vacation photo album

I arrived home safe last Saturday, tired and with lots to do. It's taken me most of a week to upload the last of the pictures. We begin with scenery of various central Montana mountains and valleys.








The yellow-flowered plants are grown as crops and I think it's rapeseed.


Rapeseed is named for it's Latin name which marks it a member of the turnip family, not for a violent crime. Rapeseed oil is good for cooking because it's healthy and low in acid, but it needed an image upgrade. So the folks that grow it in Canada renamed it CANadian Oil, Low Acid, or canola. Cleaver of them, eh?


I really like the pictures where a barn or buildings gives the mountains some scale.



Lower Big Hole River. I was lazy setting up camp and didn't take a picture of it, but that's my fire ring so obviously I was camped near the fishing.


A fellow a hundred miles away, over by the Madison, described this place in detail and talked of all the trout he caught fishing from this little island in previous years. I've been told this year the spring was late and wet. I'm guessing in dry years it might be possible to actually walk on this island. I waded out next to it and caught lots of fish.


I did the last of my fishing here on the lower Big Hole, downstream from camp. I caught several medium sized rainbows on dry flies that last morning before I headed toward home.


RL Winston Rod Company in Twin Bridges, Montana, makes fly rods I can't afford.


I drove through this pretty valley somewhere in central Montana.


I only stopped in Billings for fuel, but I snapped a couple of pictures. I mentioned before that I heard a politician in rural central Montana express concern about the fast growing population in Billings and other Montana cities, and his concern for maintaining the western culture of the state. He might be comforted to know that the sophisticated, cosmopolitan city folks in the "Magic City" as Billings is known, think there is an x in the word "espresso."




Lots of classic cars and trucks in the West. Most went by to fast for pictures but this one was stopped for fuel. Beside it is a pot of flowers, at a gas station. I kept meaning to take pictures of some potted flowers and that's a poor picture and a poor specimen. I noted in all the mountain areas, homes and businesses had lots of potted flowers that were colorful and beautiful and healthy, and often overflowing the pot with blossoms.



I made a quick stop for a look at these stoned presidents. It's a national monument, could we cut some trees? I know Teddy Roosevelt was all about conservation but he looks like he's snorting cedar.



Clearer view from closer, after the sun came out.



A final sight seeing stop at Falls Park in Sioux Falls, SD on Friday afternoon and made it to Omaha in time for supper. For that meal, I met a dear friend for conversation over Mexican food, my first restaurant meal of the trip on the last full day. The food was good and I joked about the luxury of the flush toilet and hand sink, but the highlight was the company. I had coffee with other friends on Saturday morning and then drove home.

So that's my trip. I was gone 19 days. I had great fun fishing, saw some absolutely beautiful country, spent most of my time alone, made a few bad decisions, ate right, slept comfortably if not enough, and generally had a wonderful time. While I don't have specific plans to take another solo vacation next year or anytime soon, I wouldn't be opposed to doing it again. I would even do it again in the same places, some year after I see all the other places on my list. My wish list for differences next time would be very short: a better camera, and more weeks to spend travelling.

news from Dot-upon-the-map, South Dakota

I was awake very early this morning, so I ate a quick breakfast, struck camp (quick and simple) and was on the water before the sun was shining directly onto it. I threw some streamers but only caught some little rainbows. When there were some bugs on the water I switched to dry flies, caught enough fish to feel good about my last day of fishing, and packed it in. I waded wet this morning, which means I wore shorts and got wet. I've done that several times this trip when it was warm enough to make the waders uncomfortable. It wasn't so warm this morning, and I did it just so I wouldn't have wet waders to deal with on the way home. It also had the effect of making me ready to quit after just a couple of hours.



I was on the road shortly after 9:00, and didn't feel like stopping until bedtime. I made it all the way to some dot on the map in South Dakota, with a short stop at Mount Rushmore.



I'm too tired again to deal with pictures. I promise I'll put up the rest of them, but maybe not until after I'm home. In the meantime, here are some thoughts about trivial things I noticed about the parts of the American West that I visited.

People out here are more into classic cars and trucks. You occasionally see one in the St. Louis area but out here, they are everywhere. I didn't get many pictures of them but I got one today I'll post later. There were a couple of classic trucks, pulling more modern trailers, in Yellowstone.

Also on vehicles: I was surprised how many Toyota Tundra pickup trucks I saw. They catch my eye because I drive one of course. It's Toyota's full sized truck, and it didn't surprise me that everyone out here has a full sized pickup but I would have guessed they would mostly be the American "big three" companies. Twice I heard someone refer to Tundras as Gibsons and I was pleased with myself that I knew why. All Tundras are assembled in one plant, in Gibson County, Indiana.

There are still places out here, especially in valleys in Montana (which is mostly valleys) where you can't get a radio signal. I hit the "scan" button and watch my radio cycle all the way thru the dial and start again without ever finding a station. In many other places, it only found one or two. I expected them to all be country stations and I enjoyed listening to some country music, but I also heard a jazz/Big Band station which really surprised me, and several gospel/church stations, and once a Spanish speaking station. It was near West Yellowstone which has lots of restaurants and motels which probably employ a lot of Hispanic folks. I listened to the music on the Mexican station for a while. I don't know if it's correct to call it salsa music? I enjoyed it and it reminded me of what you hear in Mexican restaurants sometimes. When I started craving enchiladas I turned it off.

One of the few times I heard a talk station, a rural area politician was talking about the growing cities in Montana, and specifically Billings, which he said is the fastest growing city in the US. He spoke in proper political tones about the economic opportunities that could benefit all of Montana, but he also spoke of taking specific steps to maintain the traditional cultural western aspect of the state in the face of city people coming from other cities to Montana cities. He spoke of states where this is a significant rift between the big cities and the rest of the state. The three states he mentioned specifically were New York, Illinois, and Missouri.

Are braids back in style? I hadn't noticed that in St. Louis, not that I'm much into fashion. But out here many of the women have their hair in one braid, two braids, or a French braid. Some are Native American women but many of them are not. I wonder if it's a regional fashion? Or if it's everywhere and I'm just that clueless?

A few years ago, Montana and a couple of other western states had no speed limit on rural interstates, it was just "reasonable and prudent." Well the court said that was unenforceable, so it got changed, most states to 75. That's a little faster then Missouri but what surprised me was, there are little two-lane paved rural highways with 75 MPH speed limits. I often drive about 9 miles per hour over the limit, and I've done that on the interstates out here, but I find that 75 is about as fast as I am comfortable on a little two-lane road! And I saw some fishing guides driving pickup trucks pulling drift boats on a trailers, going faster then I would be comfortable in any vehicle.

Last days of fishing

I might post twice in one day! There is a very weak wifi signal in this campground. It belongs to a nearby RV park, but I bought ice there and got permission (not that they can control who taps into their unsecured network!).

So, no pictures tonight; I just thought I would write a little. I fished the upper end of the Big Hole river last night and this morning, and it was everything people said it was: pretty, full of brook trout, hard to access in places, and very buggy. In this case I'm not talking about nice friendly bugs the trout eat, but the other kind, that eat fishermen. The mosquitoes were in thick clouds, in some places on the river and also in camp. I wore lots of bug spray and only got bit a couple of times, but it was annoying having them constantly buzz near my ears and eyes. I have seen some fishermen wearing a net hanging from a wide brim hat, like a beekeeper might wear. They look ridiculous but I was wishing I had one. The most annoying thing was, I was not able to get in the camper shell and close the flap fast enough and at least 6 or 8 of the little nasties got in there with me. I brought my bug spray to bed too, and it was nasty business spraying it on myself in bed but it only lasts about four hours so it was necessary. And hard to sleep with them buzzing in my ears.

On the plus side, the fishing (for brook trout) was very good and the river was pretty and very peaceful. Anytime you see more big game animals then other fisherman, you're in a remote area. I saw other guys fishing this morning but last night the score was 4 animals (elk) and 0 other fishermen.

After this morning's fishing, I struck camp and drove a number of miles down river. I did this partly to escape the mosquitoes, and partly because I'm not (quite) done with exploring new water for this trip, and it's almost over. I fished only a little while tonight and caught one fish. Tomorrow morning I'm going to walk downstream from the campsite, maybe starting early and swing some streamers for the big browns I hear haunt these waters, then try to catch a few more rainbows, on dry flies if there are any rising fish, and then I'm done. After that it's three days of driving, a short visit with a friend, maybe a quick look at some landmarks on the way, and then home.

It will be good to be home. I'm not tired of fishing, but I've had all the camping and camp cooking I need for one summer. My meals have gotten simpler. I haven't been cold in the mornings, so cold cereal was a fine breakfast many days. A few times, my "big meal" of the day was a sandwich, chips and salsa and fruit and cheese at lunch time. And lots of my suppers have been jerky and snack food on the river bank, or else a very hastily prepared meal at 9:30 PM when I got back to camp.

My camps got simpler too. I haven't set up my canopy in the last three camps. That's just beggin' for a rainstorm but I'm lucky so far. I fished in the rain one day at Yellowstone but it stopped before I got back to camp, and everything was boxed up and most of it in the truck because of the bear concerns. At this point, I won't be spending two nights in the same place again, so if it does rain I'd probably rather tough it out then deal with a canopy that has to be packed up wet in the morning.

The nicest thing about tonight's camp is it's right next to a cascading rushing part of the water. It's almost a little loud, but I'll be able to hear it when I'm inside the camper going to sleep, which is a nice thing on the last night in an actual fishing camp. There's not any trees here, but I'm enjoying watching the moon poke out through the clouds. It's almost full now. I guess my fishing excitement or my energy level has toned down some, because while I'm wondering how good the night fishing might be under that moonlight, I'm not quite energetic enough to go try it. And that's just fine.

I am a few days behind with blogging, because I've been in remote areas with no internet connection, and because I've moved camp two days in a row. I put most of this post together last night but am publishing it now (Wednesday afternoon Mountain time) on my way past a hotspot, on my way to the lower Big Hole River. Last night and this morning I fished the Upper Big Hole River, more on that later. These pictures are from my last day or two on the big lower Madison River, in a beautiful valley in "big sky country."

This picture looked a lot better before I sized it down for the web. I thought it was a pretty little ranch nestled in next to a rocky crag in the valley, but then I realized, there's no way that barn is "little" which gives the whole thing some perspective.



Some of the slopes are grass covered, others have pine trees, and it doesn't seem to depend on moisture or elevation or anything else I can identify.

I really like the rocky formations.

This is how most of the valley looks, lower grassy rolling hills near the river on both sides, backed by high (snowy, tree covered, grassy or rocky) peaks in ALL directions.
Nice vacation cabin with a view of the snowy mountains and the river. Of course, us po' folks that stayed in the campground in the bottom of the picture got treated to the same views.

Another vacation spot for the rich folks.

I passed a sign that said I was in a wilderness protection area, with special restrictions on the lion season. Some time later I came across this track. I learned that the 3-lobed rear pad ("heel") plus the lack of any claw marks in the soft dust, meant this was a feline track (retractable claws) and that it's several times to big for a lynx or bobcat, so it's a lion track.
I later came across a pronghorn that had been killed by some predator(s) in the past day or two. I couldn't find tracks near it, as it was on a grassy area. The ravens were all over it by the time I got there and they were NOT happy that I came close to look for tracks. I was fishing and didn't have my camera and it's probably just as well. Without getting into specifics, I was guessing something big like a lion or several wolves might have been feeding on it.

Typical view of the lower Madison. Much of it is shallow and easy to wade. They sometimes call it the "50 mile riffle" which is an exaggeration of course, but the point is, there are many shallow riffly areas (which are easy to fish) and while the riffles on most rivers contain mostly the smaller fish except during extreme hatches, this stretch of the Madison has so much riffle and so little else, that the big fish are in the riffles, too.


Part of the valley is ranches, some of it is vacation homes and cabins, but a large percentage of it is national forest land (so to speak, not really forest). I drove over cattle guards to get in, and then saw many small herds of branded cattle, different brands, all grazing together on otherwise unfenced open land. Then when I came to the wildlife management area with restricted lion hunting, there was a fence, another cattle guard, and no cattle in that area, hmm. :) In both the grazing areas and the wildlife areas, I drove miles and miles of these Forest Service "roads" consisting of two ruts through the grass.

In many places, I could park quite close to the fishing.



I took this picture because I was amazed that tree ever grew that big right out of a little crack in the rock, and I could hardly tell the wood from the rock. When I looked later at the picture, I realized part of it looks like a wolf.

Green and orange moss or lichen or something grew on this rock. I sat on it anyway to change flies.


I don't know how they measure the sky to claim "big sky country" but there's some pretty pictures of it over the valley.

Often when I take a vacation, I entertain fantasies of moving to the place and never going back. I went through that with Hawaii, and with Colorado the first time we went. Not so much in Orlando, too hot and too many people. This trip, the area around the Henry's Fork in Idaho seemed like a great place to visit but i wouldn't want to live there. Ditto the West Yellowstone area, only (other then the fishing in the park) I wouldn't be that excited about visiting the town again. It's much like Branson in every bad way. Branson is another town I visit because it's near good fishing.

So the lower Madison River area, this beautiful valley, was the first place this trip where I had that "I wanna live here forever" experience. I liked the locals I met, the small towns were alive and vibrant, with an agricultural feel as well as a fishing/tourist economy presence, and the July weather was very pleasant. I'm sure if I'd visited in January, I would have gotten a different experience.

So after three days I'm leaving this valley even though I like it a lot. I've caught bunches of fish, some nice ones, out of that 50-mile riffle, and caught some on dry flies and even a few on the famous salmon flies.

While considering weather to stay or move on, I asked some fellow fishermen about the Bitterroot River, several hours further west. I got some favorable opinions but everyone asked "have you fished the Big Hole?" Everyone seemed to think it was equal or better then the Bitterroot. And, it's a few hours closer which counts at this point in the trip. I'll be headed home in a few days, which will be a long trip as it is. I have time for one day on the upper Big Hole, up in the mountains, and then either a second day up there or else a day on the lower end. I have been told the upper end is pretty, and lush and green, but the access is not the greatest (long walk in to the best fishing) and that the mosquitoes will be bad up there, due to beaver meadows and standing water.

Salmonflies on the Madison River

Here's the last picture I took in Yellowstone before the camera battery died, a butterfly on a wildflower:







Then I drove through some country I would have taken pictures of. Most notable was a big pretty sparkling blue lake with snowcapped mountains behind it.

I thought the phrase "big sky" referred to Montana in general, but I've learned that it's this part of Montana where I am now. The Madison turns and twists but generally flows north, through a valley that also twists and turns. The highway I drove mostly follows the river through the valley. From anywhere around the town of Ennis, or my campsite or the river, the land close by is flat or rolling low hills covered with grass or desert plants, but you can see mountain peaks in all directions not far away. Many of them have snow on them, and a local told me it's the first time in years the snow has lasted into mid-July. It was a long cold spring, and now everything is a few weeks behind including the salmon fly hatch. It's starting gradually now. Most years it would have been over by now.

The salmon flies are big stoneflies that emerge from the water, mate in the streamside vegetation, and then return to the water to lay eggs. They are clinging to every tree branch now, and even flying into me on the bank.



I tried to photograph one clinging to the bottom of a branch but all the pictures have the sun in them.

Then as I was tieing an imitation stonefly on my tippit, a natural one flew into the back of my neck. So it tried to introduce them on the crown of my hat . . . .


But he beat a hasty retreat (note shadow)

and made good his escape.

This is a very dry area, , except where irrigated, and I think I recognise this plant as prickly pear cactus or something close.

Except I thought it's blooms were red.



This cactus also appears to be a prickly pear, with a different color flower.

The pronghorns are thick in this valley. I see them every time I drive anywhere. I think they are beautiful and I'd like to get a good picture showing markings on body and face, and prongs if it's a male. But while they are perfectly comfortable with vehicles passing close by, if you so much as slow down, they run like the wind.

This is the same picture without the trimming, which is one of the few I have so far that show the scenery nearby. I'll take some more.

I remember two varieties of morning glories, small white ones that grew in yards when I was a kid, and big pink ones that choked out the christmas trees my uncle was trying to grow commercially. These flowers are between those two sizes and a different shade of pink, but they seem to be growing parasitically on other bushes and I think they are some kinda morning glory.

An illustration of usage conflicts and compromise. The water in the foreground is an irrigation ditch, and in the background is the Madison River, blue ribbon trout water. The ranchers would make more money if they could take more water. The fisherfolk and their lobby would like to see minimum flow rules, meaning the irrigators could take less water especially on dry years when they need it most (but so do the fish). The watergate governs how much water goes into the ditch.

The short stretch of canal behind the watergate is deeper and wider then it needs to be for the canal's purposes. There's a boat ramp into it that you can barely see in this picture. This was clearly designed with two purposes. The current is swift and the banks are high and steep, so you need some sort of protection and a less steep approach to launch boats.

The watergate's valve control is secured with a very macho looking chain and padlock. I suspect at some point, either a rancher cut the lock and opened it wider, or else a fisherperson closed it.

Musings

Editor's notes: This post written Saturday night, to be published Sunday morning on the way past the hotspot. Also not that anyone cares, blogspot's clock is weird. it's several hours fast and not an even number of hours like it's a time zone issue. I might post this around 7:00 AM tomorrow Mountain time, but it will say I posted it several hours earlier, if it's still behaving as it was. Anyway.

No pictures today. The camera battery is dead again, and charging.

I'm settled in to a new camp, in a national forest campground near the Madison River, and I like it here, no complaints. This is nice since I had complaints of one kind or another at my first two camps. This one is comfortable, quiet (so far) peaceful and feels private, without being so far removed from the place I want to fish.

Nostalgia: Someone famous said that hunger is the best sauce, but I nominate nostalgia for that honor. As a boy scout, I camped once a month, in all seasons, for years. My supper on the first night in camp was almost always the same: canned beef stew and canned peaches. It was quick and easy, on a night when there was much to do. I bought a can of stew, same brand I used to eat, for this trip. I opened it tonight, on my first night in a new camp, and heated it in the can over a campfire. I ate the peaches at room (forest?) temperature, because that's how I ate them back then, in summer. If it was winter I would have heated them, too. The smells and flavors took me back to simpler times.

It was never wonderful food and it still isn't, but what it lacks in flavor it makes up in memories. I thought of people I haven't thought of in years or spoken to in decades. Not all the memories are positive but they are all important. Looking back I can see some of how I became who I am, and how and why I changed later in life.

That's more ponderence then I expected to get from a can of stew.

I only ate half of it because that's a whole day's ration of fat grams, something that didn't concern me as a boy scout. I'll finish both cans tomorrow for lunch probably. Supper tomorrow will be on the riverbank and this isn't good pocket-of-fishing-vest food.

Usage and park policies: Yellowstone handed me a park newspaper when I paid my fees, and it had a section on "issues" which was interesting enough I read more on their web site. It got me to thinking of other issues.

I learned that the science behind DNA testing, which has made millions of dollars for the patent holder, began as "bioprospecting" in Yellowstone. A scientist was studying unique life forms in the high temp, high acid environments of the thermal areas and found something useful that is now synthesized. Nothing was taken from the park except samples and knowledge, which seems like good usage to me. Some say the park should get a cut of the profits. Others question the appropriateness of such study being done in a national park at all. I think good scientific knowledge is a good thing, and that advancing knowledge is or should be one reason for having national parks.

I learned more about aquatic parasites. It's important for us sport fisherfolks to carefully clean our equipment before moving from infected water to not-yet-infected water, which really means, every time ya move from one drainage to another, or even up a tributary, unless you're sure you have up to date info on what's infected and what isn't. Nobody knows too much about the whirling disease parasite and how it moves, but it's reasonable to think transferring water in boats or mud on boots isn't good. Whirling disease has decimated trout populations in some places including one creek in Yellowstone.

The tiny Aussie mud snail damages habitat and competes with aquatic insects (trout food) for algae. It can be transferred easily from stream to stream in the mud stuck to felt soled wading boots like mine. Yesterday I fished the infected Firehole River in the morning, and the uninfected Gibbon in the afternoon. Now, how does one wash one's boots, while wearing them, in the infected river, removing all the mud, and then get out of said river without getting any mud or tiny snails back on one's boots? I think one would have to take the boots off and "wade wet" or maybe lay belly-down on the bank and wash the boots by hand? Officially recommended methods include a power washer, a car wash, or drying them in the sun for five days. None practical in Yellowstone.

So what did I do? I didn't wade the Gibbon. I fished from the bank in my hiking boots, and settled for the part of the stream I could reach that way. But I wonder how many fishermen are not willing to make that sacrifice? Or how many are willing to get wet to wash their boots, or drive 15+ miles out of the park for a car wash?

It's tempting to suggest the park should offer some sort of facilities for washing gear, to better protect the rivers. But this park doesn't even offer sinks to wash your hands after using a pit toilet, so that's going to be a hard sell.

After I fished the Firehole again this morning and before travelling to the Madison River, I stopped in West and washed my boots at a car wash. I saw two other fisherfolk doing the same thing.

Usage conflicts in general: On the Henry's Fork, I encountered lots of people floating by on inner tubes. I wasn't too annoyed but the guide was grumpy about it. He seems to think that the very best trout streams in the world should be reserved for trout angling usage. I can understand that. But, I don't live near such a stream so can't we apply that to the best trout waters in Missouri too? Okay, there's no floating in the MO trout parks so that's a bad example but my point is, the public lands and waters belong to the whole public, and if you start setting limits where do you stop?

Picture the perfect trout stream. Now the perfect innertube stream. If they aren't the same, then you know something about one or the other activity that I don't know. Clean, clear, moving water thru pretty country. Who's is it?

Kayakers are never a problem. They call out a familiar greeting "where do you want me?" and watch for me to point with my head, because they know my hands are full (flyrod in right, flyline in left). If I'm confident, I can point behind me and then time my backcast so one goes in front, the next behind, the kayak as it speeds thru. I'm not that confident. I usually point the kayaker forward, to go between me and the fish, and flip the backcast behind me and drop it there for a few seconds. Better then dropping it in front of me and risk spooking the fish, if they should see the flyline float over them at a moment I can't pick it up because of the kayak. I don't mind missing a few seconds' fishing, one or two casts at most.

But the tubers haven't been taught that "where do you want me" etiquette, and they just see a guy standing in the middle, casting to one bank and back-casting to the other, and think there's nothing they can do. And there isn't much. Inner tubes just aren't that maneuverable, even if they knew where I would prefer they go. And they take several minutes longer to float thru then a kayak.

And they have just as much right to the river as I do, and I don't know that I can justify a "special use" arrangement. Sometimes the side of conservation wins out in these discussions, but the tuber (assuming he doesn't litter) isn't hurting the environment, arguably, as much as the fisherfolk even though, out here, we try very hard not to kill the fish.

Smaller lakes disallow powerful gas boat motors, in most cases. That might be partly about conservation, and a lot about noise and reducing wake to make it more pleasant for others. Fisherman can (in some cases) still use a quiet electric trolling motor, but water skiers and personal watercrafters have to go elsewhere. Maybe designating this river for fishing only and that one for tubers is no different then that.

And then of course there's money. Fishermen like me come from far away and spend some pretty serious money, on tackle, licences, guides, groceries etc. helping the local economy. Floaters come from nearby, so their grocery money would stay in this economy anyway. Not to make judgements but my impression was that they were mostly working families taking a vacation on the cheap, staying in campgrounds (like me) and bringing their groceries and beer from home. The sport fishing industry has some influence around here, and lots of rich friends. Who advocates for the floater?

So I don't get too steamed when I have to stop fishing for five minutes for a flotilla of tubers to go by. On the Henry's it happened four or five times a day.

One more usage issue to close with: I noticed a couple of trucks in Yellowstone that were probably farmers or ranchers passing thru. There are highways around most of the park, but there are some cases where, if you're going from A to B, the most direct route is thru the park. Now, there's a fee to be paid at the gate, $25 for 7 days and probably a cheap seasonal rate available. I can imagine that a year ago, it didn't make sense to pay a fee to save a few miles. But now you're saving $4 for every gallon you reduce. The traffic jams in Yellowstone don't seem to happen anymore (at least I didn't encounter much of it) since they started enforcing "don't feed the bears." The rancher who lives nearby might have a season pass just for recreation, so he's not actually paying anything extra to haul feed or whatever thru there.

What ya gonna do? A weight limit? These weren't simi rigs, they were farm trucks one size larger then the big pickups, probably a 16-20' bed and six tires. It probably weighs less then some of the RVs they allow in there. So is it fair to say a family of two to six people can spend a week in the park in their camper for $25, but a smaller farm truck can't pass thru for the same fee?

Enough for tonight. Fishing report, pictures and more words of wastedom tomorrow or the next day.