Finding The Big Hole
By: Matt Hargrave
I don't remember the first time I heard about the Big Hole River, I assume I read about it in a magazine, or a book on fly fishing. I do remember it piqued my interest as a fly fisherman. Stories of salmonfly hatches, big predatory brown trout chasing streamers and the last remaining native fluvial arctic grayling population left in the lower 48 states, created a strong sense that the Big Hole was a place that must be visited. I got my first chance to fish it in 2002. I only had half a day and decided that the Salmonfly FAS in Melrose would offer the best chance at fishing. I caught a 12-inch brown on an elk hair caddis pattern. I was ecstatic.
Fast forward to the present. I've been living and guiding in Montana since 2011. I call Helena and the Missouri River home, which of course counts the Big Hole as a headwater stream. I feel fortunate to live so close to the Missouri, and to show this great resource to fishing clients from all over the world. But as busy as guide season is, I always take time out of my schedule to head south to fish the Big Hole. It's a captivating river. There's something about the peat colored water and bank to bank foam lines that make it seem like the river is keeping a secret from you. It's also the water, the foam, and the cut banks that make it seem like anything is possible on a day fishing the Big Hole.
There's something about the peat colored water and bank to bank foam lines that make it seem like the river is keeping a secret from you.
I take a memory home every time I find myself floating down the river. The big brown that smashed a streamer just yards from the East Bank take out after a long and fruitless day. Being relentlessly attacked by mosquitoes on the 4th of July. Doing a very early, very optimistic float to catch the Skwala hatch, only to have air temps hover in the mid 20's, resulting in another “Oh well” day. Having to stop and wait for nearly an hour for a cow moose with calf to decide whether we were a threat to her and her young one. Countless memories, and plenty more to come.
For me, spending so much of my time on a tailwater fishery with the character of a giant spring creek, the Big Hole represents what nature intended for a trout stream. From its humble beginnings at Skinner Lake, it's methodical march through lodgepole country around Fishtrap, the confluence at Wise River, the rowdy boulder strewn canyon above Divide, to its placid valley end at Twin Bridges. The river has a little bit of everything to offer. I can't think of anywhere else that the possibility of catching wild rainbow trout, brown trout, brook trout, cutthroat trout, and grayling exists in a single day. The diversity of fish populations and insect populations is on full display on the Big Hole.
As rugged and majestic as the river is, it isn't without its own problems. Low flows in summertime push the limits for safe water temps for its wild trout, grayling, and whitefish populations. Noxious weed growth outcompetes native plants and can ultimately lead to stream bank degradation. Development along the river corridor brings its own set of challenges. If you are someone like me, that recreates on the Big Hole and would like to see sound conservation practices and community outreach teaching about the importance of this watershed, head on over to bhrf.org and learn what they are doing to preserve this wonderful resource. Though I don’t live near the Big Hole, I joined BHRF as a supporting member. If you’ve ever laid eyes on the valley or been lucky enough to cast a fly in its waters, you know immediately that the Big Hole is a special place, deserving of protection.
