Fishing near Cascade, MT

11th-15th May: Days 33-37

Another item on our List is ‘learn to fly fish’. Montana is a trout fishing mecca and the Missouri River quite literally runs through it (For all you ladies of a certain age who had a Robert Redford and Brad Pitt crush like me, the 1992 movie ‘A River Runs Through It’ was set in Montana. Yes. Fly fishing can be cool and sexy. Allegedly.)

So anyway. We selected an out-of-the way RV park, right on the river, and  headed off. We stopped off at Helena, the state capital, for lunch and provisions for 4 nights and made our way to Prewett Creek. This is an amazing spot nestled amongst some deep sided rocky cliffs through which the river runs. The chosen method of fishing here is ‘floating’. The locals have small double ended boats big enough for 3 people. They launch about 8 miles up river, dash back with a second car to leave the trailer at the ramp, then spend a few hours floating back to it. The middle guy steers with oars and the other 2 fly fish. Looks like a very pleasant way to spend an afternoon.

The only other establishment at Prewett Creek is a small Fly Fishing shop run by a local legend called Phil Camera. An East Coast native, he is a world expert on trout fishing and fly making. We called in to see what we could organise. About an hour later we came out with a plan to get licences the next day, an agreement to rent some rods, a brain full of fishing tips and a new friend. We decided to stick to spin casting rather than learn to fly cast. Much easier and still quite a valid method of fly fishing apparently.

The next 2 days were freezing. Wearing all our clothes, with a thermos of coffee and chairs in hand we made our way down to the river. I fished. Nick got his teeth into John Steinbeck. (We only got one licence and rod in the end). We moved several times, even got on our bikes and went up-river a few miles.

My casting was splendiferous.

I put in the hours.

I did everything that the guru, Phil Camera, had told me.

But. Not. Even. A. Nibble.

Not. Even. A. One.

Never mind. The river was beautiful, it was peaceful. We saw an otter, lots of Canada geese and lots of boats floating past serenely. And do you know what? I didn’t see a single other person catch a fish either. So I won’t be too upset about my lack of success. (Although I can’t catch fish for toffee in NZ either…) Phil commiserated with us during our debrief. Apparently this is the time of the caddis fly hatch, which means the trout are well fed and not so hungry for flies. (Contrast this with warmer weather, and the popular activity of tube-floating down the river, in what Phil amusingly termed the ‘bikini-hatch‘)

Perhaps we will have better luck on another river, another time, but Prewett Creek was a little gem. And no trout were harmed in the making of this post.