Middle Fork

I opted to go for another jaunt today. A short one. With gas prices the way they are, it is almost foolish not to take advantage of them and put a few extra miles on my tires before gas jumps back up.

I also brought my youngest niece, Erin along. We only brought one pole and she unfortunately didn't like my open bail left handed reel. Her luck and patience wasn't as good as my own.

A little rundown on this spot. It is a fairly accessible fishing location that is over fished most of the summer. Between the rafters, tourists, sport fisherman, and pleasure fishers, this section of the middle fork gets hit fairly hard. I never see people here in the fall though. So I figured I would give it a go. This will be probably be the last chance I get to fish open water though. I am primarily catch and release, and this time of year is more stressful on the fish. The water is cold, the food sources are down, and the fish are gearing into a more torpid state to survive the winter. The fishing was fairly good though. I only fished for about an hour and a half. The only problem was that I kept catching bull trout. I finally had to move to a different section of the river. Its illegal to fish for bull trout and I figured that I was probably pushing my luck by catching them. I didn't catch anything of note. Three bull trout, a lake trout and a couple of nice pan sized eight inch Yellowstone cutthroat trout. All went back. Can't keep a bull trout, cant eat a lake trout and cutthroat are my favorite fish to fish for...so I would rather catch them again some other day.

I need to break out the fly rod now though. Re-line it, change a broken eyelet, re-learn the knots and I will be in business. This spinning rod and lure fishing is starting to embarrass me.

Anyway, enjoy the pictures. As much as I hate photos of myself and of other people, I opted to post primarily just Erin's photos and the pictures she took of me with fish.

This photo does not do justice to the fall foliage, nor the larch needles changing colors. But over all, the picture speaks for itself.

Erin attempting to learn how to fish with a left handed real. Viva la lefties.

Bad shot of a scrawny Bull Trout. They are nothing but swimming mouths until they get to be a couple pounds in size and fill out. Don't you dare make fun of my hat. It was right around 40 degrees and dropping rapidly. It kept my cranium warm and my ears toasty. That is all that matters. My mother made that hat for my brother. I stole it fair and square from him about 20 yrs ago.
. Another Bull Trout. Little smaller, a lot skinnier
Erin on the Rocks
Cutthroat Trout. Small, but fun.
The tunnel. Trains and highway make this a less then ideal place. But it is still a nice place to go occasionally.

I used to be uncertain, now I am just unsure.

It is Wednesday. For the last couple of days I have sat and contemplated what the purpose of this blog is. Why did I create it. What am I going to do with it now that I have created it. Do I post more pictures? Do I treat it as sort of a diary? Do I attempt to put my ideological, inane ramblings here? After much rumination and contemplation, I have decided that I have no idea what to do with this. I created this to show one or two friends a cool location. I certainly did not expect people to react like they did to it. I certainly did not expect people to ask me to continue to add to it. That being said, I guess If I do, I do. If not, then so be it. I guess the question of the day is...do I go overseas for a while…or do I stay and be the mature responsible person that I am and get started in the re-building of my life? I guess I will just have to wait and see.

Meadow Creek 2

This is a continuation. Great images and good stories get restricted by the size limitations of posting sites. If you really want the entire picture of this tiny journey, please scroll down to "Meadow Creek 1" and start there. Then come back up here and finish your trip.

From above and a different angle.
Looking back towards the way out.

The log. If you remember, I mentioned the log in the previous post. This is one of three ways to get to the other side. Ummmm...can we say no thanks? It looks almost as bad as I felt and I opted to not tempt fate and thus...stayed on the ugly boring side of the canyon. But man it is nice on the other side. The side we were on allows no access to the water and restricts you to about one fifth of this particular canyons beauty. Believe it or not...this log was deposited here in spring runoff sometime in the early 90's. Thats a lot of water.
The log from a different view. It gives it an entirely different perspective. Would you cross that? I have. Many times. But neither the log or I are getting any younger.... The log beneath it wasn't there the last time I was here. That is about the traditional spring run off level. There are no fish here in the later part of winter and spring. They don't come back untill july when the waters recede and warm up.

Looking down. I used to fish off those rocks. Not today....
A glimpse of the other side of the canyon. Its much gentler and provides much better fishing (and safety).
That kettle is about eight feet across and six feet deep. In the summer, the water is a little higher and that is a great spot to catch trout. You can just barely see the rock in the middle that helped to create that kettle.



Its much deeper and swifter then it looks.



This is the end of the road. Its a bit risky from here on out and I opted to take the cowardly way out instead of risking a swim. Photo's do nothing for the steepness and scale.

Meadow Creek 1

It is fall. It is cold. I have never visited this location this late in the year. Within a week or two, this area will be locked out due to winter snows. Snow levels here are measured in feet. I am not sure about the elevation, but I suspect it is right around 6500 ft or higher. This is not an area to tred casually. Bears inhabit this area. Both Black and Grizzly. This late in the fall, most bears are fattened up, however you never know when they might need an additional snack for the big sleep of winter.

This location constitutes a plethora of youthful memories. Traditionally this has been one of the best fishing regions in the north west portion of Montana. It is commonly referred to as Meadow Creek. There are several miles of canyons scattered along the length of this mountain river, however much of it is inaccessible to any but the most foolish kayaker. One must make a note that caution is needed. These rocks are slick and despite calm appearance of much of this water…it is lethal. For most of this water, if you go in…you die. No ifs ands or buts about it. It looks calm on the top, but I have seen 2 ft boulders rolling UPSTREAM due to the nature of the under currents. There are kettles created in another canyon a mile or two upstream that were created by boulders 3 to 5 ft across, spinning and rolling in place during spring run off. This particular section is the most accessible (and the most spoiled by man). Unfortunately it is also the only section that I can get to due to some mobility issues. Needless to say, it is still a sanctuary and part of what I commonly refer to as my cathedral. The light was not conducive to good photography and my damaged amateur digital camera leaves a little to be desired by way of quality.

On this jaunt, I was accompanied by Wyatt, an old childhood buddy and long time friend of the family and fellow natural philosopher and worshipper of this environment.

But...now to the pictures...

The Headwater to Hungry Horse Resevoir and one of the gateways to the Bob Marshall Wilderness. On the Drive up.

No mans Land. Tough Fishing.
The Foot Bridge in. Its a long way down.
Looking down from the trail in. Water and geology are the best artists.To the front, is the same rock wall as taken from above.
Wyatt looking for fossils.
The sharks teeth at eye level.
More of the sharks teeth. This area is a rock hounds dream.
Walking up towards the gorge.



The exit to this particular series of canyons. The pictures speak for themselves.
Looking back from the way we came in.
Wyatt


Me