Within two weeks of moving to Montana, this so called trout bum had two jobs, a cushy pad to call home and a girlfriend… sort of. My tread lightly "rough it" plan was failing and I needed to put the breaks on before I spiraled out of control. I packed up the truck with fly rods, reels, waders , camping gear, fly tying equipment, a case of beer and headed South to the Henry’s Fork. It was time to put my life back in order. The Railroad Ranch would never be the same. Never fished here before, just been told to fish downstream with dry flies only! Quite a statement to abide by for a guy that loves to catch fish and knows that trout spend 90% of the time feeding on sub aquatic insects. Anyway, I was here to clear my head and get back to trout bumming.In two days, I had gotten skunked, lost a rod, broken up with my sort of girlfriend via pay phone but still had two jobs and a place to live. I would work on losing one of the jobs later. I’m here to fish and I’ll be damned to go skunked. Who cares about the majestic Grand Teton purple mountain majesty or the moose sipping water from this legendary spring creek harboring giant, wild rainbow trout? Who really cares about the sweet smell of sage brush bordering the banks of this volcanic wonder? I was here to fish and at this point, a fish would do the soul some good. "Stupid Henry’s Fork, this place is over rated I screamed"! I had to regroup. I’m not going to let this over hyped river get the best of me.
I stormed out of the boiling river and made a B-line for Osborne bridge. I did something I’m not very proud of and short of dynamite, I tied on a size #12 Prince nymph. That’s right, I was nymphing one of the greatest dry fly rivers in the world and I was killin’ it. It makes perfect sense. These fish don’t see many prince nymphs drift by their head, if ever. They were curious and I was catching fish, big Henry’s Fork fish. I felt a little dirty at first but who cares really? I got over the guilt pretty quickly. I’m not a purist, just a self taught fly fishing kid from the Midwest. I’ll justify my behavior as simply a skillful means of catching fish without the use of dynamite.
