Salmonflies on the Madison River

Welcome back.

The greatest spectacle in fly fishing for trout is on. Nothing else compares. Period. Especially when you’re lucky enough to guide on one of the most famous rivers in the world for this event. Giant salmonflies. Pteronarcys californica.

I often hear or read about how “the hatch” is overrated. All bug, no bite. Yeah. Right. The biggest protein shake these fish will see all year is overrated. Uh huh. Your attitude is underrated, more likely. Or, my favorite, they’re not eating the dry because “they’re gorged on nymphs.” So you’re telling me, a fish big enough to eat this thing who doesn’t know where the next meal is coming from, is just gonna pass on a helpless 3” long free lunch  because it’s had enough? Have you seen their stomachs during salmonfly season? Does it look like they’re watching their weight? I don’t think so. The only fish I see eat this fly have bellies which are about to explode. Evolution would have taken care of this dietary restriction long ago if that were the case.

Don't leg go little guy! Fish are waiting...

For those who speak these blasphemous things, they just aren’t trying hard enough. Or they don’t actually care. But truthfully, I love hearing that. Less competition. You have to be committed to be rewarded. And the reward is often worth the dedication.

For anglers, fish can smell your weakness. Success requires that you show none. You must cast accurately. With anger. Twenty pound test and a size 2 dry fly demand violence from your cast. No time for delicacy. They can sense your wavering commitment. Your doubt. They hear your thoughts. Should I nymph? Put on a dropper? You might as well forget about it. You’re done.

For guides, your loyalty to the bug is even more important. Your doubt creeps into your anglers. And before you know it the ship is sunk. Boat positioning is critical and the physical work required is intense. If you’ve done your homework and are in the right place at the right time (that is your job afterall), your success is only limited by your dedication and stubbornness. I, for one, have been cursed with immense levels of both. And while there are many guides not named Justin worthy of the description “best guide on the Madison,” I can guarantee you nobody is gonna out work me on the oars during this hatch.

Mike with a dandy Sammy eater.

It’s not for everyone. That’s not an indictment against other guides who choose to float through a natural wonder like the salmonfly hatch with bobbers, tight lines, or streamers. To each their own. They’ll probably catch more fish and sweat less than me while doing it that’s for sure. The payoff sometimes takes a while. Sometimes the eats are few and far between. But the eats will come. And when the payoff does come, it’s worth a thousand normal sized fish. To see the lips of a 20” class fish wrap around a big dry fly is as good as it gets. Chef's kiss.

And in a few short weeks it’s all over. I won’t go down without swinging for the fences. The science tells us we’re losing this bug. And while I hope they’re wrong, I’ll not miss an opportunity to fish it.

You’re throwing a 3-4” dry fly. We’re not looking for cookie cutter rainbows. We don’t have time for that. Those fish run from this fly anyway. Screw 'em. The clock is ticking. The hatch does not stop progressing upriver for anyone. These flies won’t even fit in those fish’s mouths. We have the rest of the season for “normal fish.” We’re looking for the one. We’re hunting. Not hoping. Here we go!