Montana Grant has been fishing in Yellowstone Park waters since the early 1960’s. My family would vacation in the Park doing the summers. It was a 2,200-mile drive from Maryland. We came for the amazing trout fishing and wonderful experience. The trout fishing in Yellowstone Park was the best in the world at that time.
I have fished Yellowstone for my entire life. The stories and knowledge that I share are true, honest, experienced, and extensive. I am the fisherman that I am thanks to these experiences, mentors, and lessons that I learned while casting for the Parks finned critters.
Trout fishing in Yellowstone Park is not as good today as it once was. People do not flood to Yellowstone to fish like they once did. Some “fly guys” and critics will disagree, but you had to be there to have an opinion.
As kids, we always looked for Yogi the Bear and a new place to catch some Lunkers. There are few trails that I have not walked, waters I have not fished, and critters that we did not encounter. Later in my life I moved my family to the Big Sky Country. The legacy continues.
One of our favorite campgrounds was Norris Junction. It was here that I met an angler from Arkansas. He and his wife camped in a Baker tent across the campground road from us. I called him Mr. Dennis. He was like a grandfather to me. My dad and brother would take off fishing and leave me to stay at camp with my mother. At the age of 9, I made good bear bait.
Mr. Dennis felt bad for me and took me fly fishing. He used an old bamboo fly rod with a Plueger reel. His white fly line had plenty of backing on the reel. I learned knots, leaders, casting, and how to read the water from my mentor.
We fished the Gibbon River that ran through the meadow at Norris Junction. Soldiers and old park rangers once fished in these same waters. The wild brook, brown and rainbow trout were eager and abundant. These waters were originally barren of trout until they were stocked.
Most of the trout that I caught were smaller. 6-12 inches were my norm. Thanks to Mr. Dennis, every success was a lesson learned. Casting a fly above the fish and not at the fish was important. ‘The trout’s eyes are on the side of its head. They can’t see what is on the tip of their nose”, preached Mr. Dennis.
When we fished the Gibbon Meadow, we were escorted by sandhill cranes, bison, elk, and every critter that roamed the area. Steamboat Geyser would explode occasionally. Every sight, event, and activity taught me a lesson. Mr. Dennis sat on the bank, smoking his pipe and never let a minute go to waste.
The biggest fishing lesson that Mr. Dennis taught me was “PATIENCE”! If you lack patience as an angler, you will never catch anything. The lesson was taught just upstream from the Gibbon River bridge at the junction road. He told me about a HUGE Brown trout that he had been after for years. The lunker lived under the bridge. He handed me his 7 ½ foot bamboo rod and showed me the special rig. His go to fly was a Brown Wooly Worm with a red yarn tail. He smeared some Vaseline on the leader and front end of the line to help the line float under the bridge.
We made sure that the sun was not casting our shadow over the water. It was late in the day, and the fish were on the feed. I cast where he said and allowed the drift to go under the bridge. I mended the line on his command.
After several attempts, I was over this. I had no Patience. Sounded like this would just be another fishing story. Mr. Dennis took his rod back and said, “Watch Me”. His cast was perfect. We were on our knees as he made two perfect mends. Suddenly the line straightened, and Mr. Dennis set the hook.
I have caught and seen many monster brown trout in my lifetime, but this was a Biggun! The river was exploding as the massive trout jumped, splashed, and made several runs. He went onto the backing and bent the old bamboo rod twice over.
“Grant, get my net and stay downstream of me.” Mr. Dennis slowly slid the Brown into the net. I lifted the net and about went crazy with excitement. We didn’t measure the huge Brown. As a kid, my mind remembers the biggest trout I ever saw. In retrospect, the brown was every bit of 26 plus inches. It had a huge hook jaw which meant it was a male.
Mr. Dennis kept the fish in the net and in the river. He showed me the trout’s characteristics and anatomy. We had no cameras back then. We also had no stringer. This fish was too special to eat. After several exciting minutes, I learned more during that experience than every trout I had ever caught.
We let the massive brown slip into the current and swim back into its special spot under the Gibbon Bridge.
If I had taken just one more cast, perhaps my Patience would have been rewarded!
Montana Grant
