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INSIDE: FISHING TIPS FROM MASTER GUIDES

MO NTA NA FIS H, WILD L I FE & PA R KS | $ 3. 5 0

MAY–J UNE 2019

SURVIVOR After 70,000,000 years, paddlefish are still swimming strong

IN THIS ISSUE:

VENISON CURRY THE UPPER CLARK FORK REBORN A MOSQUITO’S WORST NIGHTMARE WORKING THE NIGHT SHIFT AT FRESNO

MONTANA OUTDOORS VOLUME 50, NUMBER 3 STATE OF MONTANA Steve Bullock, Governor MONTANA FISH, WILDLIFE & PARKS Martha Williams, Director FIRST PLACE MAGAZINE: 2005, 2006, 2008, 2011, 2017, 2018 Awarded by the Association for Conservation Information

MONTANA OUTDOORS STAFF Tom Dickson, Editor Luke Duran, Art Director Angie Howell, Circulation Manager

MONTANA FISH AND WILDLIFE COMMISSION Tim Aldrich Logan Brower Shane Colton Richard Stuker

MONTANA STATE PARKS AND RECREATION BOARD Angie Grove, Chair Jeff Welch Mary Sheehy Moe Betty Stone Scott Brown

Montana Outdoors (ISSN 0027-0016) is published bimonthly by Montana Fish, Wildlife & Parks in partnership with our subscribers. Subscription rates are $12 for one year, $20 for two years, and $27 for three years. (Please add $3 per year for Canadian subscriptions. All other foreign subscriptions, airmail only, are $48 for one year.) Individual copies and back issues cost $4.50 each (includes postage). Although Montana Outdoors is copyrighted, permission to reprint articles is available by writing our office or phoning us at (406) 495-3257. All correspondence should be addressed to: Montana Outdoors, Montana Fish, Wildlife & Parks, 930 West Custer Avenue, P.O. Box 200701, Helena, MT 59620-0701. Website: fwp.mt.gov/mtoutdoors. Email: montanaoutdoors@mt.gov. ©2018, Montana Fish, Wildlife & Parks. All rights reserved. For address changes or subscription information call 800-678-6668. In Canada call 1+ 406-495-3257 Postmaster: Send address changes to Montana Outdoors, Montana Fish, Wildlife & Parks, P.O. Box 200701, Helena, MT 59620-0701. Preferred periodicals postage paid at Helena, MT 59601, and additional mailing offices.

CONTENTS

MAY–JUNE 2019 FEATURES

10 They Swam Beneath Dinosaurs For 70 million years, paddlefish have lived in what is today Montana. Here’s how FWP is helping this amazing fish species thrive in the most challenging era of its existence. By Allen Morris Jones

16 Pretty Little Predators Dragonﬂies are lovely to look at. Unless you’re a mosquito or other prey. By Dave Shepard

22 Rebirth of the

Upper Clark Fork No one can make a new river... Except maybe they can. By Tom Reed

30 Straight from the Source

Five expert Montana fly-fishing guides identify the most common errors they see—and how to correct them. By Patrick Straub

36 Working the Walleye Factory Fresno produces more of these delicious ﬁsh per acre than any other reservoir in Montana. Here’s how to put some in your cooler. By Tom Dickson

DEPARTMENTS

A REST BETWEEN STAGES A newly emerged adult dragonﬂy rests on a limb near Hebgen Lake. Learn more about these amazing insects on page 16. Photo by John Juracek.

2 3 4 5 6 8 40 41

LETTERS TASTING MONTANA Venison Curry OUR POINT OF VIEW FWP’s Constant Balancing Acts FWP AT WORK Natalie Finnegan, Network Systems Analyst SNAPSHOT OUTDOORS REPORT SKETCHBOOK Getting Stoked on Conservation OUTDOORS PORTRAIT Grasshopper Sparrow

FRONT COVER They somehow survived the Paleozoic, Mesozoic, and Cenozoic eras, even as dinosaurs went extinct. See page 10 to learn how Montana’s prehistoric paddleﬁsh are faring in today’s Holocene era. Photo by Eric Engbretson. MONTANA OUTDOORS | 1

LETTERS Parks article hits home I want to congratulate you on the excellent article on Montana’s state park system (“Behind the Curtain,” March-April 2019) and the troubles it faces. I especially appreciated the graph titled “More parks, less funding” showing how vastly underfunded our parks are compared to those in neighboring states. I will be contacting my government representatives to urge correction of this problem. Peggy Walker Missoula

Thank you for “Behind the Curtain,” which let us clueless members of the public in on the daily struggles that state park workers endure due to the lack of adequate financial support. People now know that a very, very thin line of workers keep Montana’s state parks open for their enjoyment. And thanks for including the “Indispensable” essay (Sketchbook). Office managers and administrative assistants rarely are noticed, and yet they are an essential part of FWP state parks and other programs. It was good

Access Site Program. One can’t help but feel sorry for park managers who have to deal with large staff shortages and extremely high visitor use. An increase in the Parks Division budget is long overdue. As for fishing access sites, they are overcrowded with people who aren’t paying their fair share. I lived in Montana long ago and had the good fortune of experiencing rivers and lands without the crowding.

parking areas, trash pick up, ramp repair, caretaker services, and general maintenance…” It is time that FWP begin requiring all users of fishing access sites to pay their fair share. As an avid angler and hunter who purchases licenses every year, I’m increasingly frustrated watching FAS use escalate while only a small percentage of users actually contributes to them. When FWP needs to double “the number of latrines and dumpsters,” as

you write, that’s rarely from increased angler use. Typically, it stems from other people crowding sites and using them for launching inner tubes or just lounging around. The solution is simple: Anyone without a valid fishing license who uses an FAS should be required to purchase some form of FAS “pass.” There are several examples of this system already in use in other states. Your magazine missed a terrific opportunity to initiate the truly important discussion of how all FAS users should help fund the program. John Herzer Blackfoot River Outfitters Missoula

Have something to say? We welcome all your comments, questions, and letters to the editor. We’ll edit letters as needed for accuracy, style, and length. Write to us at Montana Outdoors, PO Box 200701, Helena, MT 59620-0701. Or e-mail us at: tdickson@mt.gov

Dennis Hanson Merrifield, MN

to see you praise their knowledge, which keeps office workloads flowing and the general public informed and happy. Delores Benner Citrus Heights, CA (born and raised in Montana)

The March-April issue presents serious issues for your State Parks Division and Fishing

Others need to pay, too Your article on FWP’s fishing access sites (FASs) succinctly detailed the challenges that Montana’s FAS program experiences from overuse and underfunding. Unfortunately, the article missed the mark. Simply renaming fishing access sites does nothing to solve the cost issues you list as “fencing, roads,

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“Just the bait, please.”

LIANA FINCK/THE NEW YORKER COLLECTION/THE CARTOON BANK

People now know that a very, very thin line of workers keep Montana’s state parks open for their enjoyment.

TASTING MONTANA

Venison Curry By Tom Dickson | Preparation time: 30 minutes | Cooking time: 30 minutes to 2 hours | Serves 6 INGREDIENTS 2–4 T. vegetable oil 2 lbs. venison stew meat (from the neck, shanks, or shoulder) or beef chuck, cut into 1-inch cubes, patted dry with paper towels, and liberally seasoned with salt and pepper 2 large onions, chopped ⅓ c. curry powder 2 T. mustard seed 2 large garlic cloves, minced or crushed 1 t. ground turmeric 2 large cinnamon sticks 6 whole cloves 1 bay leaf 1 (28 oz.) can chopped tomatoes 2 c. beef broth 2 T. minced jalapeño peppers 2 T. minced fresh ginger 1 (14.5 oz.) can garbanzo beans, drained Optional: 1 ½ c. whole milk, ½ c. chopped peanuts, ¼ c. shredded coconut Cooked white rice

SHUTTERSTOCK

hen I first began dating my future wife, we spent a lot of time hanging out at her parents’ home. Her father, a doctor who immigrated to the United States from Burma (Myanmar) in the late 1950s, had recently retired. For recreation, he liked to cook Burmese cuisine, which is influenced by Chinese, Indian, and Thai dishes. On Saturday nights after Lisa and I returned to her parents’ home from a movie or concert, we’d be hit with the welcoming aroma of cinnamon, coriander, ginger, turmeric, cloves, and more from dishes like biryani or beef curry. A big bowl would be left out for the two of us. After we moved to Montana, I set out to re-create that scrumptious curry, using venison rather than beef. I experimented but could never quite capture the taste of what I remembered. Finally I hit upon the right mix of ingredients that transported me back to that aromatic kitchen. The ingredients list is long, but don’t be deterred. All items are available in most Montana grocery stores. And the cooking process is easy: Brown the meat and onions, add everything else, then stick the pot into the oven for a few hours. Pay bills or watch TV while it cooks. This recipe is a great way to use venison neck meat, shanks, and the sinewy portions of the shoulder. These cuts contain collagen and connective tissue that break down and make the meat fork-tender during the slow, moist, low-heat cooking process known as braising. If using beef, the best cut is a chuck roast. If all you have in the freezer are venison steaks and roasts—which usually come from the hindquarters—you can still make this dish. Simply cook it hotter and faster. It won’t be as good as with a slow braise, but it will still be delicious.

DIRECTIONS Preheat oven to 300*. In a large Dutch oven or other oven-safe pot, heat vegetable oil and brown meat in batches. Remove meat. Brown onions for 7 minutes. Return meat to pot. Add curry, mustard seed, garlic, turmeric, cinnamon sticks, cloves, and bay leaf. Cook while stirring for 1 minute. Add tomatoes, broth, peppers, and ginger. Bring to a boil. Place in oven and bake for 2 hours*. Remove from oven. Stir in beans and (if using) milk. Serve over cooked white rice, with (if using) coconut and chopped peanuts sprinkled on top. n *If using venison roast or steak meat, increase temperature to 375 degrees and cook for only 30 minutes.

—Tom Dickson is editor of Montana Outdoors.

MONTANA OUTDOORS | 3

OUR POINT OF VIEW

FWP’s constant balancing acts

smarter solutions to upgrade those systems. We continually balance the diverse needs of state park visitors—from people who want a quiet, no-frills getaway to those in RVs who expect amenities like concrete pads and electrical hookups. We balance park guests’ desire to experience the outdoors and learn about Montana’s history and geology with our responsibility to protect resources such as pictographs and subterranean caverns for future generations. As we manage wildlife, we’re constantly balancing human concerns against those of wildlife and habitat, whether it’s grizzly bears, elk, deer, golden eagles, or sage-grouse. In mountain lion and wolf management, we aim to balance those predator populations with populations of elk, deer, and other prey. Whenever we set hunting seasons, we balance human requests for more hunting opportunities with the need to conserve game populations. We also balance how much time our biologists spend on game species relative to nongame species. We balance the concerns of landowners who have overabundant elk eating crops and damaging property with the concerns of hunters who want more elk. We weigh the needs of archery hunters and rifle hunters, hunters and other recreationists, resident hunters and nonresident hunters—the list of balancing acts we perform each day is endless. Balancing priorities means that not everyone gets everything they want. That’s okay. We’ve found again and again that the most sustainable results come when biologists, irrigators, conservationists, loggers, hunters, ranchers, anglers, miners, land managers, and others work together to arrive at a fair balance of each others’ needs and concerns. Balance requires a lot of empathy and compromise. One example is the Three Rivers Collaborative. It began last year when FWP started working with local governments, businesses, and nonprofit groups to improve public communication about health and recreation issues on the Bitterroot, Blackfoot, and Clark Fork Rivers. The effort, based on balancing a wide range of interests, “already is building trust among the various partners and a common understanding of the various issues and wide-ranging One of FWP’s many balancing acts involves managing native and non-native values concerning these three rivers,” Randy Arnold, fish species. FWP needs to provide abundant fishing recreation, which often FWP’s regional supervisor in Missoula, recently told me. makes use of non-native species such as brook trout (lower fish in photo). Yet the department must protect the state’s natural heritage by conserving As stewards of the public trust and so many outdoor native species like westslope cutthroat trout (upper fish). experiences, our job is to find and create balance through sound management based on both natural and social what anglers want as well as the desires of other people—kayakers, sciences. As long as they protect the quality of what we all love about rafters, dog walkers, bird watchers, school groups—who use these Montana, we believe that those balancing acts, hard as they may be to achieve, are ultimately in everyone’s best interests. public recreation areas. In our state parks, we’re constantly balancing the need to do emer—Martha Williams, Director, Montana Fish, Wildlife & Parks gency stopgap electrical and sewage line repairs with more costly, but

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PATRICK CLAYTON/ENGBRETSON UNDERWATER PHOTOGRAPHY

veryone strives for balance. Throughout each day, we balance civic duty with home responsibilities, expenses with income, and family needs with the needs of others. It’s as though we walk around all day with arms outstretched and a scale in each hand, adding and subtracting components—time, money, energy—from each side in an effort to find a fair and sustainable equilibrium. Not surprisingly, balance is also central to how Montana Fish, Wildlife & Parks manages the state’s wildlife, state parks, and fisheries. In fisheries management, for instance, we’re challenged to balance dual mandates of protecting native species like westslope cutthroat trout while providing fishing recreation, often with nonnative species like walleye, brook trout, brown trout, and rainbow trout. On the Madison and other rivers, we have to balance the needs of local anglers, outfitters, and landowners, all while protecting habitat and fish populations. At fishing access sites, we consider

JOHN WARNER

FWP AT WORK

HIGH-TECH TROUBLESHOOTER I’ VE WORKED AT MONTANA FISH, WILDLIFE & PARKS for 22 years, but I didn’t start out in the information technology field. I earned a B.S. in biology at Montana State University and was considering graduate school when I got a job with the Parks Division at the FWP regional office in Bozeman in 1996. Later that year, I transferred to the Billings regional office and worked in the front office, where I began doing some IT support work. As technology became more prevalent in the workplace, I started attending training sessions, and in 2005 I became the department’s Region 5 network systems analyst. I have no plans of retiring any time soon. Like FWP’s other 11 network support staff, I set up new computers and printers, fix hardware problems and software errors, troubleshoot servers, and work on smartphones, tablets, GPS devices,

NATALIE FINNEGAN Network Systems Analyst, Billings

cameras, and all the other new devices and equipment that FWP employees use in the office and the field. All of us also work on cybersecurity issues as they arise, and we help with FWP’s Automated Licensing System in our respective regions. What makes our IT positions so interesting is that we support such a wide range of dedicated FWP employees, from field technicians to senior department managers, all with different IT needs. We might help wardens with their vehicle radios, body cameras, and Toughbook computers, while wildlife or fisheries biologists might need support setting up a system to download GPS coordinates on radio-collared mule deer or tagged sauger. Our phones are constantly ringing from staff needing assistance, and providing them with top-notch customer service is a big part of our job satisfaction.

MONTANA OUTDOORS | 5

SNAPSHOT

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Montana photographer Bill Kinney specializes in whitetail bucks and has seen his images on the covers of dozens of hunting magazines. But when he spotted this wild turkey hen drinking water at a fountain in a neighbor’s yard, he could not resist. “That’s in the North Hills above Helena. It’s real arid up there, and there was a flock of turkeys that couldn’t stay away from that fountain,” he says. “I’d been photographing them for a few weeks. When I got this particular shot, I thought it was just so comical. It looks like the hen and the angel statue are having a conversation.” n MONTANA OUTDOORS | 7

OUTDOORS REPORT WILDLIFE

Squirrel-shape disco lights soar overhead

216

Number of watercraft carrying invasive animals or plants into Montana discovered during 100,000 inspections in 2018.

One last (slim) chance for the Smith

Still possible

Above: A ﬂying squirrel glows bright pink under ultraviolet lights at night. Below: Comparison of a ﬂying squirrel pelt under normal light with the same pelt under UV light.

If you’re in the forest some night this summer, shine an ultraviolet light up into the trees. You might see bright day-glo shapes gliding overhead. Researchers at Northland College in Wisconsin reported in the February 2019 issue of Journal of Mammalogy that flying squirrels turn pink under UV light. Many birds and butterflies also have UV fluorescence, but this is the first time scientists discovered it in mammals. One theory is that the vivid pink color might have evolved to confuse great horned owls that prey on the squirrels. Because the raptors fluoresce in the same hue as flying squirrels, the squirrels might look like flying owls. Another possibility: If flying squirrels can see UV, something scientists have not yet proved, the color might be related to mating or other intra-

squirrel communication. “It could also just be not ecologically significant to the species,” Allison Kohler, who studied the squirrels while at Northland, told the New York Times. “It could just be a cool color that they happen to produce.” Montana’s northern flying squirrels live in forested areas west of a line that stretches from Yellowstone National Park to Glacier National Park. n

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: CARTOON BY MIKE MORAN; STAN TEKIELA/NATURESMART.COM ; FIGURE 2.10, PAGE 67 GRAPHIC FROM BEFORE YELLOWSTONE; SHUTTERSTOCK; ALLISON KOHLER/NORTHLAND COLLEGE; ERIC HEIDLE

Even if you didn’t draw one of the 1,288 coveted Smith River permits in FWP’s 2019 lottery, floating the iconic 59-mile stretch this summer is not impossible. When permit holders cancel, their permits become available on a first-come, first-served basis. Cancellations increase when water levels drop too low (below 250 cfs, often starting in late June or early July) for boats other than kayaks and canoes to float. Call the Smith River Information Line at (406) 454-5861 for the latest cancellations. The call line is open Monday through Friday, 8 a.m. to noon. “If you’re persistant and keep trying day after day, you can often pick up a canceled permit,” says Colin Maas, manager of Smith River State Park. n

OUTDOORS REPORT OUTDOOR ETIQUETTE

How to win respect at the boat ramp Some of the most valuable real estate in Montana isn’t the property ringing Whitefish Lake or Big Sky Resort. It’s those concrete boat ramps at FWP fishing access sites (FASs). That’s because the ramps are the only way boaters of all kinds can get into and out of Montana’s popular rivers, lakes, and reservoirs. Power boaters and drift boat operators have long used Montana’s FAS boat ramps. Now, increasing numbers of kayakers, inner tubers, and stand-up paddleboarders are using ramps. Many are unaware of the rules and etiquette. For everyone visiting an FAS, here are seven boat ramp basics: u

Prepare your craft before launching.

When launching or retrieving, do as much preparation as possible off to the side, before you reach the ramp. Don’t park on the ramp to load or unload PFDs, paddles, coolers, and other gear. u

Blow it up elsewhere.

Inflate and rig rafts, inner tubes, and blow-ups away from the ramp. u

Park in the right place.

Don’t park your vehicle in areas designated for vehicles with boat trailers. u

Get a move on.

Once you’re on the water, move away from the ramp. Don’t linger in front of the ramp rigging rods or adjusting oars or paddles. Paddle or row downstream a bit so others can use the ramp. u

Socialize on the sidelines.

An illustration from Before Yellowstone compares the size of the larger ancient bison with a contemporary American bison and a human.

Pre-park Yellowstone Occasionally a book crosses our desk that we need to recommend. In this case it’s Before Yellowstone: Native American Archaeology in the National Park, by University of Montana professor of anthropology Douglas H. MacDonald. For fans of Yellowstone National Park— and who isn’t?—this fascinating book tells the story of human habitation in the region before European exploration and eventual designation as the world’s ﬁrst national park. Starting at the end of the last ice age, the region was home to Paleo-Indians and then Shoshone, Bannock, Salish, and Nez Perce tribes, among others. MacDonald and his team of students scoured the park to document evidence of these ﬁrst inhabitants: tipi rings, campsites, atlatl dart tips and arrowheads, petroglyphs, fasting beds, and hunting blinds. The book includes details of the Clovis spear head discoveries, including those near Yellowstone Lake that proved humans reached the area 11,000 years ago. n

Don’t block the ramp to visit with friends, take pictures, or wash off gear. Move to the side. u

Swim elsewhere.

Don’t swim, wade, throw sticks for your dog, or do other things at a boat ramp that blocks boaters trying to get into or out of the water. u

Thank an angler.

Anglers, through their annual fishing license purchases, pay for most of the acquisition and maintenance of Montana’s 338 fishing access sites. n

MONTANA OUTDOORS | 9

For 70 million years, paddlefish have lived in what is today Montana. Here’s how FWP is helping this amazing species thrive in the most challenging era of its existence. By Allen Morris Jones

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he first time I went paddlefishing, I must have been in my late teens, just finishing high school. It was me, my dad, my older brother, and probably a family friend who showed us the ropes. Paddlefishing isn’t a sport you just jump into. You need a guide, somebody who knows the game. Because it’s not exactly “fishing.” In fact, it’s about as far from the classic Montana fly-fishing—minuscule flies, featherweight rods, delicate casts—as you can imagine.

LEFT TO RIGHT: ERIC ENGBRETSON; JEREMIE HOLLMAN

When you go paddlefishing, your job is to catch a paddlefish. There’s something downright utilitarian about it. It’s a sport of muddy banks and high brown water. Surfcasting rods and reels, stout fishing line, five ounces of lead sinker, and a sharp, heavygauge treble hook the size of a hawk’s talon. Lawn chairs. A friend to spell you, because it’s not a bad idea to work in shifts. You heave that thing out. Jerk it back. Quickly reel in the slack. Jerk. Reel in the slack. Get hung up on a submerged log. Cuss. Repeat. Hour after hour after hour. Finally, you get hung up for the umpteenth time, but now the snag starts to move, taking out line. The first few seconds, you think maybe it’s your imagination. But then, no. By the time you finally bring your first paddlefish into the shallows at your feet, you’re sunburnt, sweaty, smeared with mud. And then, to see the fish, to see this amazing

creature roll up out of the chocolate milky river—beady-eyed, toothless, with a cavernous mouth and a spoonbilled snout like a canoe paddle—is to experience a near existential disconnect. Here’s this familiar river, the Yellowstone or the Missouri. Here’s this creature, alien to look at yet living in this part of the continent for more than 70 million years. And here’s the two of you, eye to eye. Across those millions of years, the paddlefish has faced countless threats: asteroids, volcanoes, an ice sheet pushing the Missouri River south to flow into the Mississippi rather than Hudson Bay. One ecosystem opening up, another closing down. But of all the threats throughout the species’ long existence, the current calamity of humanity is its greatest. There are two paddlefish species worldwide: the American paddlefish in the Mississippi River drainage and the Chinese paddlefish in the Yangtze River. The Chinese spoonbill hasn’t been seen

BIG GAME FISHING Heavy-duty saltwater rods and reels are required to snag then haul in paddleﬁsh, which can weigh over 100 pounds.

MONTANA OUTDOORS | 11

for more than 15 years. It’s likely extinct. That leaves the American paddlefish, a Darwinian cage brawler capable, so far, of surviving even the damming of its habitat and the accompanying disruption of upstream spawning. Here in the United States, thankfully, the species is exceptionally well managed. And it’s managed with a devotion, passion, and cooperation—by vested parties that include the states, the federal government, tribes, anglers, and local communities—that’s close to astonishing. Not only is the species surviving, in places it seems to be thriving, including parts of Montana. For a generation and more, disparate interests have come together in the interests of paddlefish. At the intersection of sport and management, this prehistoric species is a poster child for how conservation can actually succeed. TWO POPULATIONS Like baleen whales, paddlefish are filter feeders that live on microscopic zooplankton. With their massive mouths wide open, they cruise through reservoirs and river backwaters sucking in water through gill rakers that comb it for protein. They won’t take a lure because they don’t eat anything that vaguely resembles what a lure might represent. To catch one, you need to snag it. The gill rakers look like pale, fibrous, flexible combs. The fish’s massive schnoz, called a rostrum, is visibly speckled with sensors that detect the electrical signals of swarming zooplankton. The meat, if you’re lucky enough to haul in a paddlefish and can keep it, is delicious: white and firm, a bit like

M A RIAS

FREEZER BOUND An angler heads home after harvesting a paddleﬁsh on the Missouri River upstream from Fort Peck Reservoir.

oily halibut. Paddlefish also produce tiny, delectable eggs—caviar that, given the worldwide decline of sturgeon, is in increasing demand. A single female can carry half a million eggs. Paddlefish swim in large rivers and reservoirs in 22 states throughout the Mississippi River Basin. Two populations live in Montana and northwestern North Dakota. The Fort Peck Reservoir population lives in the large impoundment and spawns on gravel bars upstream as far as Morony Dam near Great Falls, the historic westernmost reach of the species’ North American range. The Yellowstone-Sakakawea population swims in Sakakawea Reservoir in western North Dakota and makes a spawning run each spring up the Missouri (to Fort Peck Dam), Milk, Powder, and lower Yellowstone Rivers. Montana’s paddlefishing regulations are

MILK R IV

Havre

complicated, taking up three full pages in the fishing regulations booklet. “It’s complex because we’re trying to provide as much recreational opportunity as possible while still conserving the population,” says Steve Dalbey, FWP regional fisheries manager in Glasgow. To fish the waters above Fort Peck, anglers must apply by March 29 for an annual lottery that issues 1,000 permits, known as White Tags. “These harvest tags translate into an actual harvest of 300 to 500 paddlefish, which is a sustainable number for this population,” Dalbey says. On the Yellowstone and Missouri downstream from Fort Peck, unlimited licenses known as Yellow Tags are available over the counter. Most of the harvest in this fishery is at Intake, where a 5-foot-tall, 700-footwide structure diverts water into a system of irrigation canals. The diversion dam also blocks upstream paddlefish movement in all but the highest flows. When the estimated harvest for this population approaches the cap of 1,000 fish, FWP closes the harvest season but allows several additional days of catch-and-release fishing. EASY CAMARADERIE It’s the third week of May 2018, and Mike Backes has set up a station on a picnic table 50 yards from the Yellowstone River at Intake. The river is flowing hard, at around 50,000 cubic feet per second, and below the dam more than two dozen paddlefishers stand knee-deep in the water. I see a lot of wet denim and coolers, and there’s an easy

LAKE SAKAKAWEA ER

Sidney

FORT PECK RESERVOIR

Intake

Fred Robinson Bridge

L EL

STO

IV ER

Billings

Year-round range

Miles City W DE R RIVER

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LUKE DURAN/MONTANA OUTDOORS

Great Falls

MISSOURI RIVE

WHAT IS THAT? Children examine a paddleﬁsh caught at Intake. With its scaleless skin, massive mouth, and paddle-shaped nose, the prehistoric species looks unlike most ﬁsh.

TOP TO BOTTOM: CRAIG & LIZ LARCOM; ALLEN MORRIS JONES

Fort Benton

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: JEREMIE HOLLMAN; ALLEN MORRIS JONES; ALLEN MORRIS JONES; ALLEN MORRIS JONES; ALLEN MORRIS JONES; ALLEN MORRIS JONES; ZACHARY R. SHATTUCK

PADDLEFISHING AT INTAKE Clockwise from top left: Yellow possession tags are issued for the paddlefish stock downstream from Fort Peck Reservoir and the Yellowstone River; paddlefishers cast from the banks of the Yellowstone at Intake; an FWP technician scans for an embedded tracking chip before placing a harvested paddlefish on a conveyor belt at the Intake cleaning station; a portion of the lower jaw is reserved for research; paddlefish fillets harvested from a catch; a lunker paddlefish hangs on a scale; FWP regional fisheries manager Mike Backes records harvest data.

camaraderie among the paddlefishers. vester carries it to the station where Backes eggs and larval fish.” In 2007, FWP instituted alternating Every now and then, as a paddlefish is and an assistant, Tanner Carlson, weigh it, snagged, other anglers reel in and step back, take measurements, and run a metal detec- harvest and catch-and-release days for the watching as the fish takes its captor for a tor around the rostrum looking for an im- Yellow Tag licenses. This provides additional planted tracking chip. They also remove a recreation for anglers who want to tussle with walk down the bank. Backes, the FWP regional fisheries man- section of the lower jaw. Then they pass the a paddlefish but not take it home. It also exager in Miles City, keeps an ongoing harvest fish along to a cleaning station maintained tends the season by breaking up the harvest momentum. That gives managers a little tally on a whiteboard. So far, 29 fish have by the Glendive Chamber of Commerce. The paddlefish caught at Intake spend breathing room to figure out the appropriate been caught today, making it 166 for the season. The largest to date weighed 99 most of their lives in North Dakota’s Lake time to close the season. Close it too soon, pounds. Males run about 20 to 30 pounds, Sakakawea. Backes says they start heading and they deny paddlefishers harvest opportuBackes says, and females go from 40 pounds upstream to spawn in April or early May. nities. Close it too late, and the adult populato over 100. The state record, caught in “They get to the confluence of the Yellow- tion could be overharvested. Catch-andstone and the Missouri and wait for one of the release at Intake also helps FWP biologists 1973, was 142.5 pounds. As each paddlefish is caught, the har- rivers to pulse with bigger flows,” he says. gather important biological information (see “That triggers upstream movement. They are “Paddlefish releasers provide essential data,” attracted to increasing flows and turbidity, page 14). Allen Morris Jones is a novelist, editor, and Since 1990, the Glendive Chamber of conditions that likely reduce predation on publisher in Bozeman. MONTANA OUTDOORS | 13

HARDER TO LOCATE Montana’s other major paddlefish fishery is

BACK YOU GO An angler releases a healthy paddleﬁsh into the Missouri River to swim another day.

on the Missouri River west of Fort Peck Reservoir, around the Fred Robinson Bridge in the Upper Missouri Breaks National Monument and Charles M. Russell National Wildlife Refuge. Each year roughly 5,000 to 10,000 paddlefish swim upstream from the reservoir to spawn, roughly half the number that spawn in the Yellowstone. There’s no diversion dam here to block upstream movement, so paddlefish are more spread out than at Intake and harder to locate. Some paddlefishers use boats to travel along the river, setting up bankside campsites at places where the fish might lurk. There’s also no caviar program on the Missouri, so anglers need to dress and fillet

their own catch. If they don’t draw one of the 1,000 permits to harvest a paddlefish in this stretch, they can still practice catch-andrelease throughout the season, which here runs May 1 through June 15. Cody Nagel, FWP fisheries biologist at Havre, says he and colleagues learned where these paddlefish swim throughout the year from an early 2000s telemetry study that followed the movement of roughly 120 fish over seven years. “We saw how they respond to low and high flows, which helps us understand the conditions for ideal spawning,” he says. To gather more information, each spring FWP crews in boats drift long nets downriver to entangle

CLOCKWISE FROM BOTTOM LEFT: CALEB BOLLMAN; BRANDON KIESLING; ZACHARY R. SHATTUCK; ERIC ENGBRETSON

Commerce has hired processors to clean the paddlefish caught at Intake (and brought there from nearby areas) in exchange for the fish eggs. The roe is later sprinkled with sea salt, canned, and sold as caviar. Roughly 30 percent of the caviar sale proceeds help pay for FWP paddlefish research and management. The chamber puts the rest into a grant program that funds projects like playground equipment, museum exhibits, and other cultural and recreational amenities across eastern Montana. Also helping out at Intake today is Dennis Scarnecchia, a fisheries professor at the University of Idaho in Moscow. As Scarnecchia helps haul fish from the FWP scale to the chamber’s cleaning station, he keeps an eye on Carlson’s work, offering helpful suggestions to the fisheries technician. It’s expert advice. Scarnecchia has studied this fishery for nearly three decades. Much of what is known about the two paddlefish populations comes from his widely respected research. The jaw samples will eventually end up under microscopes in Scarnecchia’s lab, where he and his staff count growth rings, like those on trees, to age the fish.

Paddlefish releasers at Intake Dam provide FWP with essential data Some call it “snag-and-release.” The basic idea is to haul in a paddlefish and then let it go to swim another day, just as anglers do with many other game fish species. “Some people aren’t into the meat

After taking measurements, FWP biologist Zach Shattuck releases an anglersnagged paddleﬁsh back into the Yellowstone River.

14 | MAY–JUNE 2019 | FWP.MT.GOV/MTOUTDOORS

and the harvest,” says Caleb Bollman, FWP fisheries biologist in Miles City. “They just like feeling the power of a paddlefish on the line and seeing the fish up close.” In addition to providing additional recreation, catch-and-release paddlefishing at Intake also provides FWP with vast amounts of scientific information. When an angler hauls in a fish on a designated catch-andrelease day, an FWP creel clerk wades in and helps land and unhook it. The clerk measures the fish, determines its sex, then checks for a jaw tag and records the number. If there’s no tag, the clerk inserts one. After a quick photograph or two with the paddlefisher, the fish is carefully released back into the water. Such information gathering can’t be done upstream from Fort Peck because paddlefishers there are widely spread out along many miles of river. At Intake, the activity is focused at a single location. Bollman says that anglers in North Dakota and Montana, combined, harvest 2,000 adult paddlefish each spring from the YellowstoneSakakawea fishery. Most of the fish are weighed and aged, and all numbered jaw tags are reported to provide other information. “Then with the additional catch-and-release fish, we handle another up to 4,000 fish annually. That at least doubles or even triples the sample size,” he says.

paddlefish moving upstream. The fish are quickly brought onboard, weighed, jaw tagged, and released. Paddlefishers are required to report the tag number when they harvest a fish, and catch-and-release anglers are encouraged to do the same. Nagel and his colleagues also cruise established routes, called transects, in late summer in the upper reaches of Fort Peck Reservoir. Young paddlefish that hatched earlier in the summer stay near the surface. When the boat approaches the fingerlings, they surface briefly and can be counted. The information helps scientists determine the strength of each “year class” and better understand how spring factors, such as river flow and temperature, contribute to stronger or weaker generations of paddlefish. “We know that the best spawning success comes from years with high flows for a long duration, peaking in the first couple of weeks in June,” Nagel says. “We’ve also learned that young-of-the-year paddlefish, as they move back down into Fort Peck in midsummer, need rising water levels in the reservoir that produce more zooplankton.” Inadequate food supplies prevent them from growing fast enough and limit their ability to build fat reserves needed to survive the cold months. “If they can get

FOOD FINDER The species’ namesake rostrum is covered in sensors that help it locate microscopic zooplankton.

through that first winter, most end up living for a long time,” Nagel says. Data compiled on the two paddlefish populations is used to develop a management plan every 10 years. Produced jointly by Montana, North Dakota, and Scarnecchia, the 2018 plan provides direction and a course of action for paddlefish managers over the next decade. Key to the plan, Backes says, is “making sure we’re managing the populations sustainably.” That means ensuring appropriate harvest, identifying critical habitats—and threats to those habitats—and continually monitoring the fish populations. “Without high-quality

data, we can’t assess fish stocks and manage for the long term,” he says. An affinity for one type of fishing over another is a matter of taste. We like what we like and then create rationalizations to support that choice. For every dry-fly purist going on at length about the superiority of his approach, there’s a pragmatic nympher who laments how her sport has been taken over by snobs. And for every walleye troller shopping for the latest GPS fish finder, there’s a paddlefisher content to just have a chance to wade a big river in late spring, fling out a heavily weighted treble hook, and start yanking. “Paddlefishing is getting that first sunburn of the season and taking your first camping trip with family and friends,” says Dalbey, the Glasgow-based fisheries manager. “But what sets it apart from all other types of angling is that you’re fishing for a species that was swimming here when dinosaurs were walking around. That’s an incredible opportunity. We’re doing everything we can to make sure it continues far into the future.” To read the latest management report, search online for “Management Plan for North Dakota and Montana Paddlefish Stocks and Fisheries.”

10 Tips to Ensure Safe Paddleﬁsh Release

Straining water for zooplankton

In addition, Bollman says, having the clerk nearby ensures that paddlefish are handled correctly for the best odds of survival. “Many of these fish are caught and released several times over their lifetime,” he says. “That gives us great information we can’t get from harvested fish. Over a period of several decades, we’ll end up with capture histories that will allow for some pretty powerful statistical analysis and population modeling.” n —Ed.

By using proper landing and release techniques, paddlefishers can help ensure that more of these remarkable fish remain in rivers where they have lived for eons. 1. Use heavy line to prevent break-offs. 2. Consider using a treble hook smaller than the 8/0 legal maximum size, and flatten barbs to make removal easier. 3. Land fish quickly; do not play to exhaustion. 4. Look downstream and plan where to land fish, avoiding steep banks, strong current, boulders, trees or willows, or snags that make landing a fish difficult. 5. Don’t use a gaff to land a fish intended for release. 6. Always keep paddlefish in the water, as required by law (see the FWP fishing regulations for details). 7. Minimize handling time of fish, including time spent taking pictures. 8. Keep the fish in a horizontal position. 9. Do not lift the fish by the gill arch (flap). Control the fish by holding the rostrum (snout) or tail. 10. When releasing the fish, hold it by the rostrum, facing into the current, until it can swim away on its own. Note: Be sure to read the FWP fishing regulations to ensure that catch-and-release paddlefishing is allowed at your fishing destination. Some areas are closed to catch-and-release. MONTANA OUTDOORS | 15

Dragonflies are lovely to look at. Unless you’re a mosquito or other prey. BY DAVE SHEPARD 16 | MAY–JUNE 2019 | FWP.MT.GOV/MTOUTDOORS

BEAUTIFUL BEAST Taking a break from hunting, a saffronwinged meadowhawk dragonﬂy rests on a leaf. Sunlight shining through its wings refracts into a prism of colors. PHOTO BY JOHN ASHLEY

MONTANA OUTDOORS | 17

he most efficient predator in the animal kingdom doesn’t have huge claws, fearsome fangs, or sharp talons. Its body isn’t covered by fur or feathers, and it most certainly does not appear to be well camouflaged. This fearsome predator weighs less than an ounce, has six legs and four wings, and can often be a brilliant iridescent color. It’s the dragonfly. Dragonflies have the highest success rate of any predator. Wolves are successful less than 20 percent of the time when they try to catch prey. In South Africa’s Kruger National Park, six of seven leopard hunts end in failure. Studies of Bengal tigers in India’s Kanha National Park estimate that just one in 20 hunts results in a kill. Yet Harvard University researchers have found that dragonflies capture prey such as mosquitoes in 90 to 97 percent of attempts. “The brain uses a highly optimized hunting strategy that allows the dragonfly to predict Dave Shepard is a writer and photographer in Bozeman.

where the prey is going and the appropriate muscle commands to intercept it,” neuroscientist Anthony Leonardo of the Howard Hughes Medical Institute in Maryland told the BBC in 2015. Dragonflies are one of the most ancient flying insects. They first appeared almost 300 million years ago, predating dinosaurs. That has given them a long time to perfect their flying and hunting skills. More than 5,000 species of dragonflies and the closely related damselflies occur worldwide. The smallest wingspans are just three-quarters of an inch, while the largest span more than six inches. Scientists have identified 34 damselfly species and 59 dragonfly species in Montana, the largest with a wingspan of about four inches. Dragonflies and damselflies belong to the order Odonata, from the Greek odontos, meaning “toothed one.” Though they don’t have teeth like most carnivores, dragonflies possess powerful serrated mandibles, or jawbones, used to hold and crush prey. Even better than teeth, you might say, considering the dragonfly’s predatory proficiency.

UNDERWATER TERRORS A dragonfly begins life as an egg, laid inside plant tissue or directly in water. Eggs hatch into aquatic nymphs, the form in which a dragonfly spends most of its life. The larval stage lasts only a few months for smaller species, but it extends to over five years for larger ones. The nymphs are as accomplished at hunting underwater as their adult forms are in the air. When chasing prey, nymphs expel water though gills in the rectum, creating a type of jet propulsion. A hinged, toothed mouth part called a labium shoots forward and rapidly retracts, capturing and pulling prey to their mouth. These voracious feeders eat almost anything they can capture, including mosquito and other insect larvae, bloodworms, tadpoles, and even small fish. Dragonflies undergo what’s known as an incomplete metamorphosis. They do not have a pupal stage; the adult emerges directly from the nymph. When ready to become an adult, the nymph makes its way to the water surface, generally at night, and begins to breathe air. It crawls out of the water onto a reed or other plant, molts its

STACY THORNBRUGH

Flame skimmer dragonﬂy

Dragonﬂy nymph

NYMPH PHOTO: SHUTTERSTOCK; PHOTO ILLUSTRATION BY LUKE DURAN/MONTANA OUTDOORS

outer skin, and emerges as an adult dragonfly. Depending on the species, it will live from only a few weeks to almost two years. AERIAL ACES Dragonflies may be the most accomplished fliers in the insect world. This is in large part due to the unique muscles that operate their wings. Most insects’ wings are indirectly operated by muscles attached to the thorax. When the muscles contract, the entire thorax flexes, causing the wings to move. This is like trying to flex your shoulder blades by taking a deep breath. It’s an efficient use of energy, but limits maneuverability. The dragonfly’s wing muscles are attached directly to a hinged base on each wing. While the fore and hind wings of most four-winged insects are coupled and move together, each of the dragonfly’s four wings has its own set of muscles and can be operated independently. This allows dragonflies to change direction and speed far faster than most insects. In addition to the independent wing movement, a dragonfly’s wing structure is remarkably stabile and strong. These attributes allow some large dragonflies to fly at speeds of more than 30 miles per hour. Dragonflies can also fly in six directions—left, right, up, down, forward, and backward—and hover in place for as long as a minute. You’d think all this flying ability would require an insanely rapid wingbeat. Yet a dragonfly beats its wings a relatively modest 30 times per second. Compare that with bees, which beat their wings more than 200 times per second, or a mosquito, whose wings beat up to 800 times per second. One disadvantage of the dragonfly’s zippy, multidirectional flight is that it requires vast amounts of energy. To fuel this demand, a dragonfly must eat 20 percent or more of its body weight daily. For a paddle-tailed darner, that means consuming about 80 mosquitoes. Dragonflies use their six specialized legs to form a basket and catch their prey while

The continual search for Montana odonates People began to study Montana’s odonates (dragonflies and damselflies) in the 1870s, when H. Hagen conducted natural history surveys of what would soon be Yellowstone National Park. Over the next century, several other authors contributed to that base of knowledge. In 1975, George Roemhild produced a comprehensive paper covering the damselfly species in Montana. In the mid-1990s, Kelly Miller and Daniel Gustafson presented a concise list of all known odonate species in Montana, along with notes on the history, known distribution, and potential species that likely lived here but hadn’t yet been seen. At that time, 80 odonate species were known to occur in Montana. Recent aquatic insect surveys conducted by Dave Stagliano while working for the Montana Natural Heritage Program boosted the understanding of odonates here. I began adding to the knowledge base of this fascinating group of insects starting in 2008. Fueled by personal interest, I began researching the known distribution, habitat requirements, and occurrence potential of Montana's odonates. Using new technologies such as Google Earth satellite imaging, I identified potential habitats of dragonfly and damselfly species not yet known to occur in those areas. The sites often contained populations of species I’d hoped to find. Over the past decade, fellow odonate enthusiast Bob Martinka (a retired FWP senior manager) and I sampled sites and habitat types in every Montana county. We have added 13 new species to Montana’s odonate list and expanded the known range of many other species, some of which had previously been documented from only a single location. To date, 59 species of dragonflies and 34 species of damselflies have been documented within Montana. All of this recently gathered data has been presented to the Montana Natural Heritage Program and deposited within Odonata Central, a national database that houses the most comprehensive range maps of North American odonates. n —Nate Kohler, Deer Lodge, is a naturalist specializing in birds and odonates.

MONTANA OUTDOORS | 19

BEAUTY IN MOTION Top row, from left to right: boreal bluet damselfly, cherry-faced meadowhawk dragonfly, river jewelwing damselfly. Above row: widow skimmer dragonfly, paddle-tailed darner dragonfly, pale snaketail dragonfly. Below row: band-winged meadowhawk dragonfly, spiny baskettail dragonfly, eastern forktail damselfly. Bottom row: chalk-fronted corporal dragonfly, eight-spotted skimmer dragonfly, blue dasher dragonfly.

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dragonflies will be nearby. Field guides help with identification. My favorite is Dragonflies and Damselflies of the West by Dennis Paulson. Online, try odesforbeginners.com. Smartphone apps like “Dragonfly and Damselfly Field Guide” also are handy. Note that there are many diverse dragonfly species, including cruisers, darners, skimTHE EYES HAVE IT mers, emeralds, and hawkers. A dragonfly has huge eyes Dragonflies and damselflies containing up to 30,000 lenses. are important beyond their capIts curved eyes give the insect a tivating appearance and behavnearly 360-degree field of ior. For instance, they indicate vision, with only a small blind the health or weakness of ecospot directly behind its head. HINDSIGHT A closeup of a common green darner shows how this systems. Currently six dragonfly Dragonflies may perceive more dragonﬂy’s huge, curved eyes provide it with a nearly 360-degree and one damselfly species are colors than humans can even ﬁeld of vision. listed as “species of concern” by imagine. We have three lightthe Montana Natural Heritage sensitive proteins, called opsins, in our retinas. Each opsin absorbs one method to close the gap between them- Program. This is primarily a result of habitat loss, entomologists say. color—in our case red, blue, or green. Drag- selves and big game animals like elk. Then there’s the fact that mosquitoonflies have as many as 30 opsins. These borne viruses like West Nile and Zika are are not evenly distributed like ours but DRAGONFLY WATCHING instead are arranged in ways that optimize Despite their physical beauty and aerial ac- spreading through parts of the United their vision for hunting. robatics, dragonflies haven’t attracted much States. A healthy dragonfly population helps The dragonfly has one more trick in its attention from wildlife watchers. One ex- control mosquito numbers and potentially hunting arsenal: camouflage. Though the ception is the annual Dragonfly Festival at reduce disease transmission. Dragonflies brightly colored, constantly moving insects Bitter Lake National Wildlife Refuge in New are a mosquito’s worst nightmare. To paraphrase the marine biologist played seem conspicuous to humans, they are far Mexico; the festival will celebrate its 18th less so to their prey. Even more effective is year in September 2019. Watchers at the by Richard Dreyfuss in the movie Jaws: Dragthe specific technique that dragonflies small desert refuge have seen more than onflies are the perfect predators. All they do employ known as motion camouflage. The 100 species of dragonflies and damselflies. is fly, eat, and make little dragonflies. Fortuhunter chooses a path that makes it Great dragonfly watching is likely closer nately for us, they are also beautiful, fascinatappear stationary to its target. It does this by than you think. Look for the insects in any ing, and easily observed creatures that direct moving in a perfectly straight line toward relatively open area near water. If you see much of their bloodlust toward insects that the prey. Human hunters sometimes use this mosquitos or other flying bugs, hungry we’d rather not have around.

Dragon or damsel? Dragonﬂies and damselﬂies are closely related and similar looking. How to tell them apart:

Paddle-tailed darner dragonﬂy

Dragonﬂies have much larger eyes, with no gap in between. A damselﬂy’s eyes are smaller and separated.

Dragonﬂies have slightly heftier bodies. Damselﬂy bodies look like slender twigs.

The back wings of dragonﬂies are broader at the base, while those of a damselﬂy are narrow at the base.

At rest, dragonﬂies hold their wings perpendicular to their body, like an airplane. Damselﬂies fold their wings and hold them together on their back.

Above: dragonﬂy Below: damselﬂy

MONTANA OUTDOORS | 21

CLOCKWISE FROM FAR LEFT: DAVE SHEPARD; SHUTTERSTOCK; SHUTTERSTOCK

OPPOSITE PAGE CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: ELIZABETH MOORE; BOB MARTINKA; NATE KOHLER; DAVE RUMMANS; SEAN R. HEAVEY; ELIZABETH MOORE; STEVEN AKRE; MICHAEL H. FRANCIS; MORNING SUN YELLOW PONY; DIANE BROWDER; DAVE SHEPARD; MICHAEL H. FRANCIS. ABOVE RIGHT: BOB MARTINKA

flying. They subdue prey with a bite from the powerful mandibles, stripping off the wings before devouring the unlucky insect. Many dragonfly species perform this midair. Despite having powerful legs, dragonflies cannot walk; they are only able to perch.

REBIRTH of theUPPER CLARK 22 | MAY–JUNE 2019 | FWP.MT.GOV/MTOUTDOORS

FORK

hen the fishing is slow, my mind tends to wander. On a sunny spring day on the Clark Fork River, when the trout don’t seem interested in my offerings, I’m daydreaming about many things, including the river itself. One thing I ponder is that just being able to fish this river at all is sort of a miracle. That’s because the Clark Fork of the Columbia, as it’s officially called, has been abused beyond measure. Over the past century it has been polluted, dredged, dried up, and dammed. Yet despite decades of mistreatment, the river and surrounding lands are showing signs of renewal. That progress and potential are due to hard work—by conservation-minded Montanans, federal and state agencies, and industry—to repair past damage and learn to consider the Clark Fork in a new light.

JOHN LAMBING; INSET PHOTO: JOSH BERGAN

PAID A PRICE Named by the Corps of Discovery for its co-leader in 1806, the Clark Fork begins a few miles northwest of Butte where Silver Bow Creek and Warm Springs Creek meet. From there to the Idaho Panhandle 310 miles downstream, it’s one of Montana’s most visible rivers, running alongside I-90 and U.S. Highway 200. The Clark Fork is also one of Montana’s most industrial waterways. First it was a pathway for Native Americans, then a watery highway for explorers like Lewis and Clark and Canadian David Thompson, then a conveyor belt to move millions of logs downstream. Where the upper Clark Fork (upstream from Missoula) meets the Blackfoot River at Bonner, copper tycoon William A. Clark (no relation) built a hydropower facility. The famous Milltown Dam generated electricity to run two nearby sawmills that produced railroad ties and beams for upstream copper mines. During the height of World War II, Butte’s mines supplied ore for Anaconda’s smelters across the valley. Montana copper went into

NO ONE CAN MAKE A NEW RIVER… EXCEPT MAYBE THEY CAN.

BY TOM REED

MONTANA OUTDOORS | 23

everything from Jeeps to B-24 Liberator bombers, and the thriving cities of Butte and Anaconda rightfully claimed significant roles in the Allied victory. “It was probably worth it, given the national security stakes at the time, but the river and its tributaries paid the price for all that mining,” says Pat Saffel, FWP regional fisheries manager in Missoula. Degradation began in the upper reaches of the river system, where miners used pickaxes, then steam shovels, then bulldozers to dig up silver, gold, and copper valued by a growing nation. Open mineshafts and piles of mining waste exposed pyrite-rich ore to oxygen and water. The chemical reaction produced sulfuric acid, which washed into tributary streams like Silver Bow Creek, Flint Creek, and the Little Blackfoot River. Along the way it killed aquatic insects and young fish. Downstream cities, towns, and ranches Tom Reed has written books about horses, trout fishing, and grizzlies. He lives in Harrison. 24 | MAY–JUNE 2019 | FWP.MT.GOV/MTOUTDOORS

added effluent from livestock and humans to the mix. The greatest single assault on the Clark Fork came on June 2, 1908. Snow had choked Butte all spring. In late May came days of rain. On June 2, almost an inch fell, washing mining sediment off the sediment piles surrounding the city. Streams running orange with acid mine drainage fed into dirt streets and alleys that quickly turned into raging

The dam held, and the toxic sediment settled. There it sat for more than a century.

torrents of sludge. The Clark Fork River exploded from its banks. The flood carried millions of tons of silt laden with arsenic, lead, zinc, and copper downstream to Milltown Dam, built just six months earlier. The dam held, and the toxic sediment settled. There it sat for more than a century. TOXIC TIME BOMB The underwater sludge behind Milltown

BAD DIRT Removing toxic sediment from below Milltown Reservoir after drainage.

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: BUTTE-SILVER BOW PUBLIC LIBRARY; ARCHIVES & SPECIAL COLLECTIONS, MANSFIELD LIBRARY, UM-MONTANA; CLARK FORK COALITION; JOHN LAMBING; MARK EISENBEIL; MONTANA MEMORY PROJECT; TOM BAUER.

A RIVER GETS RUINED Clockwise from above: Anaconda Hill in Butte, 1900, when copper mining was revving up; a log jam after the flood of 1908, with the Bonner mill visible in the background; the Silver Bow “sewer,” where mine tailings were dumped into Silver Bow Creek; the Clark Fork River pours over Milltown Dam during the 1908 flood; a sign warning of mine pollution in the upper Clark Fork, designated as the nation’s largest Superfund site in 1992; “slickens,” blue copper salts of mine tailings, deposited on the floodplain of the Clark Fork River near Galen.

Dam posed a potential health hazard to aquatic life downstream. A 1986 flood dragged ice floes from the upper river, dredged Milltown Reservoir, and sent loosened sediment and toxins over the dam. A similar event in 1996 sent concentrations of toxic copper skyrocketing to 2,000 percent over state standards, wiping out more than half the trout in the Missoula reach. In addition to killing fish outright, acid leached from mountains of mine tailings near Anaconda and Butte dissolved lead, cadmium, and copper. The heavy metals disrupted gill function and caused trout and

aquatic insects to suffocate. For decades, fish kills following heavy rains were common. The Clark Fork’s trout population plummeted to just a fraction of what the river previously supported. The dam itself blocked migrating fish trying to swim up and down the Clark Fork and Blackfoot. FWP fisheries biologist David Schmetterling documented the problem in the late 1990s. He and colleagues showed that each year the dam blocked the upstream movement of roughly 200,000 fish, including westslope cutthroat trout and, most significant, fed-

erally threatened bull trout. The bull trout plight put added pressure on the federal government and the dam’s owner at the time, Atlantic Richfield Company (ARCO), to dismantle Milltown Dam. By this time, scientists had already confirmed that arsenic leaching from the sediment below the reservoir into underground aquifers had contaminated water supplies of nearby residents. In 1992, the Clark Fork from Milltown upstream to Butte was designated as the country’s largest Environmental Protection Agency Superfund site. Yet even after the Superfund designation,

VE R BLACKFOOT RI

Missoula Milltown State Park

Clinton UPPER CL

Upper Clark Fork River Basin

EEK

FL IN T CR

FO RK RIVE R

LITTLE BL AC KF T RIVER OO

River basin area

Drummond

C RO

The upper Clark Fork River Basin takes in dozens of tributaries, including Rock Creek, Flint Creek, and the Little Blackfoot River. The Clark Fork begins northwest of Butte where Warm Springs and Silver Bow Creeks meet. The river flows mostly northwest and is paralleled for much of its length by freeways or highways, making it one of Montana’s most visible rivers. The best fishing is in the upper reaches around Warm Springs and below where Rock Creek comes in near Clinton. The Drummond-to-Rock Creek stretch overwarms and fills with algae in midsummer.

AR K

Garrison Deer Lodge

GEORGETOWN LAKE SILVER LAKE

WARM SPRIN GS CREEK

Anaconda SILVER BOW CREEK

Butte

FWP Fishing Access Site MAP BY LUKE DURAN/MONTANA OUTDOORS SOURCES: GOOGLE MAPS, DNRC, FWP

MONTANA OUTDOORS | 25

it took more than a decade of constant pressure from groups like Trout Unlimited and the Clark Fork Coalition—an alliance of citizens, businesses, and organizations that initiated an aggressive “Remove the Dam, Restore the River” public campaign—before cleanup began. All the toxic sediment behind the dam—roughly seven million cubic yards, or about 500,000 dump trucks full— was finally removed by the Environmental Protection Agency and the state starting in 2006 after the reservoir was drained. The dam itself came down in 2008-09. Restoration money comes from the Montana Department of Justice’s Natural Resource Damage Program, which oversees the $320 million the state received in a legal settlement from ARCO to compensate for lands and waters damaged by historic mining and smelting. In the upper Clark Fork headwaters, the Montana Department of Environmental Quality and the federal Environmental Protection Agency coordinated the removal of another one million cubic yards of contami-

“

It’ll take a while for the Clark Fork to become what it could be, but I really think it will happen in my lifetime.” nants from the banks and floodplain of Silver Bow Creek. A “NEW” RIVER The ecological disaster afflicting the upper Clark Fork had a silver lining: It created a fisheries restoration opportunity unlike any in the state’s history. “We had an opportunity to get a whole new river,” Saffel says. “That’s some-

thing you just don’t see in this business.” The same with tributaries. Today Silver Bow produces fish like it hasn’t since the late 1800s, creating hope that the mainstem upper Clark Fork can experience a similar recovery. Biologists found westslope cutthroats in Silver Bow in 2007; the tiny population had survived over the decades in a remote tributary of the creek. Ironically, Silver Bow had for decades served as a “chemical fish barrier” that prevented upstream migration of non-native rainbows and brown trout from the Clark Fork. Though some rainbows made it past to hybridize with native fish, the genetic quality of the Silver Bow cutthroat population remained (and still remains) high. When Silver Bow’s toxic waters were cleaned, some of those cutthroat swam down and established a new population in Silver Bow. “Silver Bow Creek went from nothing to something,” Saffel says. “Recently, one of our wardens busted someone for poaching a whole stringer of cutthroat from Silver Bow. That really shows

CLOCKWISE FROM TOP: RYAN BRENNECKE; LARRY DEARS; LARRY DEARS; JEFF ERICKSON

A RIVER FREED Clockwise from top left: Looking north, Milltown Dam in 2005 before removal at the confluence of the Blackfoot (center of photo, below the bridge) and the Clark Fork; the dam spillway that blocked fish movement for more than a century; the Clark Fork flowing free after the dam was removed in 2008-09; following sediment removal, rechannelling, and native vegetation planting, Milltown State Park now sits where the reservoir once was.

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only minor changes to the fishery. “Anglers have been reporting a few more rainbows and cutthroats, especially between Drummond and Rock Creek, but the fishery is still almost entirely brown trout,” says Brad Liermann, FWP fisheries biologist in Clinton. He and his colleagues point to four main challenges: toxins still in the water, irrigation barriers that block fish movement, excess nutrients, and lack of abundant cold water. On Silver Bow and for miles down the upper Clark Fork, bankside tailings that over the years washed down from floods continue to leach toxins into the water. Cleanup happens slowly, and there’s little that biologists and conservation groups can do to speed it up. Most fisheries restoration work in the upper Clark Fork focuses on removing smaller barriers to trout movement, such as irrigation dams, throughout the river system. (See “Restoring the tributaries,” page 28.) Another challenge is excess nutrients— phosphorous and nitrogen—that create massive algae blooms every summer from Flint Creek downstream to Rock Creek. “We have our lowest fish numbers here, and we believe it may be tied to the high algae density,” Liermann says. “We’re hoping that more research will help us understand how the two are connected.” Students from the University of Montana and FWP biologists are working to find out where the OPTIMISM AMID CHALLENGES Despite positive signs, the upper Clark Fork nutrients originate—are they natural, still has a long way to go before anyone can human caused, or both?—and suggest ways call it recovered. So far, anglers have noticed to reduce the loads.

PHOTOS: JOSH BERGAN

how much that stream has recovered.” Saffel says a newly constructed fish barrier will block rainbows from swimming up from the Clark Fork and mixing with the natives. Eventually, biologists and trout conservationists hope that cutthroats will swim downstream over the structure and repopulate the upper Clark Fork with native stock. Meanwhile, fish are once again moving up and down both the Blackfoot and Clark Fork. When Schmetterling followed trout in the 1990s, he found that the fish, when transported around the dam, traveled up to 100 miles in the Clark Fork watershed. With the dam now gone, trout are finally free to migrate as nature intended. “A cutthroat might spend the winter down by St. Regis [near the Idaho border] and then go all the way up into the North Fork of the Blackfoot or Monture Creek to spawn,” Schmetterling says. “Now the whole watershed is available.” Other species also have benefited from the barrier removal. Bull trout in the lower river can now reach historic habitat on the upper Clark Fork, and especially on higher quality spawning waters of the Blackfoot and its tributaries. Even bottom-feeding suckers, a critical component of a river ecosystem, are seeing a resurgence.

CUTTIE COMEBACK A fat westslope cutthroat trout recently caught on Silver Bow Creek.

August caddis hatch on the Clark Fork near Galen.

Fishing the upper Clark Fork By no means does the upper Clark Fork rank among Montana’s premier trout waters. But the river is definitely fishable and can produce some large trout. Fish numbers are relatively low, but so is competition, which results in decent catch rates. The river is almost entirely a brown trout fishery upstream from Drummond, say FWP biologists. From Rock Creek to Missoula, increasing numbers of rainbows and westslope cutthroats have appeared since Milltown Dam was removed. Starting at the Clark Fork’s uppermost reaches, Silver Bow Creek provides decent fishing for westslope cutthroat and brook trout, says KynsLee Scott, a guide for Blackfoot River Outfitters in Missoula. The challenge is access, because almost all of the stream runs through private land. “Find a bridge and fish up or down, staying in the channel,” she advises. The first hot spot moving downstream is the water below the Warm Springs ponds. Especially popular in winter and early spring, it “fishes like a spring creek,” Scott says. Zebra midges, scuds, wire worms, and tiny mayfly nymphs all work well. The water here has excellent public access and a designated parking area. In his book Montana’s Best Fly Fishing, author Ben Romans touts the Deer Lodge-toDrummond stretch for its Skwala stonefly hatch in April. There’s also a decent caddis hatch in early May, he writes. Between Drummond and Rock Creek, a mix of cattle yard runoff and other factors create algae blooms that massively depress fish populations. But below where the cold, clean waters of Rock Creek come in, trout numbers increase and insect hatches intensify. “Schwartz Creek to Turah is a popular float once the floating season winds down after June 30 on Rock Creek,” Romans writes. “I like this section [of the upper Clark Fork] because the braids, undercut banks, and overall character are similar to lower Rock Creek.” —Ed. MONTANA OUTDOORS | 27

Warm water is another issue. Bull trout cold, clean water into the upper Clark Fork.” Despite the challenges, FWP biologists need icy cold streams. Jason Lindstrom, FWP fisheries biologist in Anaconda, points out that and trout conservation advocates remain the upper Clark Fork is in the southern part of optimistic about the Clark Fork’s future. the species’ historic range. “So even a few de- “Removal of the dam was such a huge grees of warming can make or break bull trout accomplishment,” Saffel says. “Then you in that marginal habitat,” he says. “Climate add all the contaminated soil removal at the change is not helping.” The Montana Natural dam site and along Silver Bow. It’ll take a Resource Damage Program has allocated while for the Clark Fork to become what it roughly $20 million for an aquatic restoration could be, but I really think it will happen in plan aimed at finding more cold, clean water my lifetime.” That’s a nice notion to ponder. But during for the upper river. Unfortunately, Lindstrom says, “the challenge is that there aren’t many my afternoon on the Clark Fork, such daysources for that kind of water. Water stored in dreaming will have to wait. I’ve switched to Silver Lake [upper Warm Springs Creek water- stripping a streamer through the deep bends shed] offers the best hope for bringing more of the river, hoping I might change my luck.

I cast again and again, but nothing. Then, just as I’m about to call it a day, a fish hits. It catches me off guard, but for perhaps a minute I can feel the big fish, deep in the hole, thrashing. I picture something savage and strong. I barely have enough time to shout and lift the rod some more and it’s gone. In the aftermath of the adrenaline rush, I sit down and wonder if it was a big brown or a bull trout. All other thoughts have abandoned me. Now I’m just thinking about that trout, deep down there in its river. I never like losing a fish, especially a big one. But it gives me comfort to know that it, and many more like it, now have an undammed and increasingly healthier river to live in.

Trout Unlimited (TU), the Clark Fork Coalition, FWP biologists, and others are working with local ranchers to restore fish passage in the headwaters of the Little Blackfoot, an important tributary to the upper Clark Fork. Barriers such as culverts, irrigation diversions, and lack of water flow prevent trout from spawning, migrating, and gaining access to cold water refuges. Casey Hackathorn, who manages TU’s Upper Clark Fork Restoration Program, says the partners are working with ranchers to modernize irrigation systems to eliminate impediments to fish movement while improving water use efficiency. “We want to overlay their needs with what trout need to have a win-win,” Hackathorn says. The City of Missoula and TU also plan to remove a lowhead dam on TU and FWP crews monitor the Little Blackfoot River Rattlesnake Creek in 2019. Other streams scheduled for blockage removals include Racetrack Creek near Deer Lodge and Flint Creek near Drummond. “Our goal, which we think is reasonable, is to get the Clark Fork fish population up from the current 150 fish per mile to 1,000 fish per mile from Butte to Milltown,” says Hackathorn. “We’re working on the tributaries to reconnect and restore the fish factories that supply the young fish for the Clark Fork.” The Clark Fork Coalition is focusing on restoring tributaries such as Dry Cottonwood Creek and Modesty Creek between Butte and Deer Lodge as part of its Eight Gr8 Trout Streams project. Will McDowell, the coalition’s restoration director, says crews are reconnecting chronically dry creeks by restoring flow. This opens spawning pathways, lowers water temperatures, and improves water quality. “We’re also working on improving riparian habitat damaged by waste from abandoned mines, sediment, and lack of vegetative cover along the banks,” he says. n Left: This dam on Rattlesnake Creek near Missoula is slated for removal in 2019. Right: willow plantings at Modesty Creek, a tributary reconnected to the Clark Fork after 60 years.

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CLOCKWISE FROM TOP: ROB ROBERTS; CLARK FORK COALITION; ROB ROBERTS

Restoring the tributaries

TOP TO BOTTOM: STEVE AKRE; JEFF ERICKSON

Milltown State Park For decades, the site of Montana’s newest state park, Milltown, was an underwater wasteland of toxic-laced sediment. Today the park sparkles with life, as hikers, mountain bikers, bird watchers, picnickers, anglers, history buffs, and others explore its 625 acres of floodplain, river, and forested bluffs. The park was established at one of Montana’s oldest and most historic rendezvous sites, where the Clark Fork and Blackfoot Rivers meet, just upstream from the old Milltown Dam site. Members of American Indian tribes like the Salish, Nez Perce, and Kootenai paused here as they traveled up and down the Blackfoot River on the famed “Road to the Buffalo,” or while following the Clark Fork. The local Salish and Kalispel who came here to fish and trade called the site where the blue waters of the Blackfoot meet the greenish waters of the Clark Fork, Ņaaycčstm, or “Place of Bull Trout.” Explorers like Meriwether Lewis passed through, too. Travel intensified after 1860, when the Mullan Road was built. It carried soldiers, travelers, and cargo between the Missouri River at Fort Benton and the Columbia River via the Little Blackfoot and Clark Fork Rivers. The route was eventually followed by the Northern Pacific Railroad. In January 1908, when Milltown Dam was

finished, much of today’s state park was flooded beneath a reservoir. Now, a decade after that dam’s removal, the site has come full circle. Dovetailed with the dam removal and river restoration was a community-led redevelopment effort that crafted the conceptual plan for the new state park. The 2018 grand opening of the park’s Confluence Area was a “culmination of a community vision that began 15 years earlier,” says Michael Kustudia, park manager. The park’s main entrance is at the Milltown

For more information on the park, including a trail map and directions, visit the park’s website at stateparks.mt.gov/milltown.

State Park Overlook, off Deer Creek Road on the river’s west side. There visitors can view the valley below and fully appreciate the river’s rebirth. The park provides opportunities to learn about the area’s geological and human history. Visitors can also picnic, fish, watch birds and other wildlife, or carry a canoe or kayak to the water and float to Missoula. Nearly three miles of trails run between the bluff and the restored floodplain, planted with native vegetation. Kustudia attributes the park’s success to a partnership among FWP, the Milltown Superfund Redevelopment Working Group, the Montana Natural Resource Damage Program, the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development, the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, Humanities Montana, Missoula County, and the Montana State Parks Foundation. Other partners include the Missoula County Water Quality District, Clark Fork Coalition, Clark Fork River Technical Assistance Committee, Friends of Two Rivers, Five Valleys Land Trust, the Idaho-Montana Chapter of American Society of Landscape Architects, the Confederated Salish & Kootenai Tribes, Séliš-Q’lispé Culture Committee, and the Rivers, Trails & Conservation Assistance Program of the National Park Service. n MONTANA OUTDOORS | 29

Five expert Montana ﬂy-ﬁshing guides identify the most common errors they see—and how to correct them. BY PATRICK STRAUB

STRAIGHT FROM THE

SOURCE

30 | MAY–JUNE 2019 | FWP.MT.GOV/MTOUTDOORS

HANK WELLES

MONTANA OUTDOORS | 31

ly-fishing is often a solitary affair. An angler, alone on the water, hopes to convince another living being to eat fake food made of feathers or yarn. But it also can be a social activity, where a pair or a group of anglers fish together and share in each other’s successes and failures. Most fly-anglers are also more than willing to share their knowledge, especially with beginners. Fly-fishing books are invaluable, from technical manuals by experts like Gary LaFontaine, Lefty Kreh, Mike Lawson, and Rene Harrop, to the literary works of Thomas McGuane, David James Duncan, Jim Harrison, and John Gierach. Also helpful are fly-fishing videos and one-on-one instruction from experienced teachers. In the spirit of the sport’s educational tradition, I recently interviewed five Montana fly-fishing experts who were all willing to share the most important things they’ve learned from watching thousands of clients over the years. uu

TOP TO BOTTOM: BARRY & CATHY BECK; LON E. LAUBER

Author of The Orvis Pocket Guide to Streamer Fishing, The Frugal Fly Fisherman, and other fly-fishing books, Patrick Straub owns the Montana Fishing Guide School. He lives near Bozeman.

BRANT OSWALD Owner, Brant Oswald Fly Fishing Services, Livingston Home waters: Paradise Valley spring creeks and the Yellowstone River Q: Brant, you’ve been fly-fishing and guiding for more than 30 years. What are your top tips for people who are wade fishing? A: One, move slowly. Sudden movement spooks wary fish every time. Two, stay low. Crouch, kneel, or even sit when casting. Learn to cast accurately from all three positions. Three, wade slowly. In slow currents or still water, try to avoid pushing a wake in front of you. In faster water, move slowly enough so your feet aren’t knocking rocks together. Sound travels very efficiently underwater. Four, when approaching a piece of water, “Look before you leap.” Even if the “bucket” seems obvious, don’t go crashing into the water to get to it; take time to look things over. You may spot a fish in a place you didn’t expect or observe feeding activity you hadn’t noticed. And finally, pay attention to shallows. Fish often move out of deeper water to feed in shallower lies during hatch activity, especially on tailwaters and spring creeks.

Q: What do you tell people who are coming out to fish with you or planning a trip? A: If you plan to use your own tackle and equipment, double-check all your gear beforehand to make sure it’s in good shape. Consider taking everything to your local fly shop (or a destination shop when you get to Montana) to check lines for wear, ensure backing and leader connections are in good shape, see that reels are oiled, etc. And check your waders, boots, and rain gear. Guides carry backup tackle, but don’t expect them to have replacements for your leaky waders, broken laces, or left-behind raincoat. Q: You teach casting at several guide schools and casting events. What’s the most common problem you see? A: Tailing loops. That’s when the top and bottom parts of the unrolling loop of fly line cross one another in midair. Tailing loops

Tailing loops kill accuracy, and the resulting wind knots weaken your leader and tippet.

TOP TO BOTTOM: MARK RAISLER; BRANT OSWALD

kill accuracy, and the resulting wind knots weaken your leader and tippet. They also require you or your guide to spend too much time untangling leaders and retying knots. Most tailing loops are caused by the rod tip dipping during the forward cast instead of moving in a straight-line path. Hire an instructor and invest the practice time to minimize tailing loops. MARK RAISLER Co-owner of Headhunters Fly Shop in Craig Home water: Missouri River

Brant Oswald

Q: Mark, on your fly shop’s daily updated online fishing report, you constantly stress the importance of mending when nymphing. What is mending, and why is it so important?

Mark Raisler

A: Mending is the act of repositioning your fly line and leader so that the fly drifts with, rather than contrary to, the current. It requires either adding more fly line near the bobber, or taking line away. The most important part of the mend is where the leader is near the bobber, and that requires using the whole rod to move the entire line and leader, not just moving the rod tip a couple of inches. Go big when mending a nymph line. Q: On the Missouri, most casts to rising fish are from upstream of the trout, working the fly down the feeding lane. You advise anglers to make that first cast count and commonly point out that, when an angler is targeting a rising fish, “This is not a time to practice casting.” A: The first cast a fish sees is the most important one. On a heavily fished river like the Missouri, landing your fly on the fish’s head will spook it. If you have to make practice drifts, do it a foot or two to the side of the trout’s feeding lane. Then, when you are ready, present the fly into the feeding lane. Q: What’s the one piece of gear I should update the most? A: Your fly line is the most important piece of the equipment puzzle. Change your line after every couple hundred hours of fishing. And keep your fly line clean. Slippery lines shoot better and float better. Most fly shops sell a 99-cent fly line cleaning towelette that will change your day. It’s the best dollar you can spend. People will shell out $1,000 for a fly MONTANA OUTDOORS | 33

Q: You see a lot of people in your boat. What do you find yourself repeating at the end of the day more often than not? A: Practice your cast. Practice for 10 to 20 minutes a week, because muscle memory is huge in this sport. But if you get tired when practicing, stop and take a break. Bad habits creep into your game when you are tired. DAN “ROOSTER” LEAVENS Owner, Stoneﬂy Inn & Outﬁtters, Twin Bridges Home waters: Madison, Big Hole, and Beaverhead Rivers Q: Rooster, you’ve traveled the world to fly-fish, spending roughly 250 days on the water each year. What have you found to be the most important part of fly-fishing? A: Being able to cast well—far, close in, and into the wind. And for goodness sake, anglers need to slow down their cast. Too many are impatient and hurry the forward cast.

hours. Before they come out to fish with me, I tell my clients to practice every day during their lunch break in the city park. Q: What’s another error you commonly see? A: Casting too much over rising trout. Your first cast or your first drift is your best chance of hooking a fish. Make it count. A perfect drift on cast number seven is about as useful as a shovel with a hole in it. The fish have already seen your fly six times and have told you they aren’t interested.

A perfect drift on cast number seven is about as useful as a shovel with a hole in it. Q: Will “hot new” fly patterns help anglers catch more fish? A: Not if those patterns aren’t presented correctly. I think it’s better to use the tried-andtrue patterns, and fish them well. A Prince nymph on a drag-free drift will always outfish some hot new nymph that gets dragged through the current. Q: Any last tips? A: Stealth. Whenever you are on the water, observe, tiptoe, and sneak around. And don’t forget the classic olive Woolly Bugger. It should be in every angler’s box, because it works in every water I’ve ever fished.

Dan “Rooster” Leavens

Pause on your backcast. That’s the single most important piece of advice I can give. Q: How does an angler learn to cast well? A: Like anything, with practice. The more you practice, the better your accuracy. When I was a kid, I used to cast on my lawn for 34 | MAY–JUNE 2019 | FWP.MT.GOV/MTOUTDOORS

KELLY HARRISON Lead instructor at Montana Women’s Fly Fishing School and a guide for Grizzly Hackle Fly Shop, Missoula Home waters: Bitterroot, Blackfoot, and Clark Fork Rivers Q: Kelly, you guide on a huge variety of waters. What piece of advice works everywhere? A: When a fish eats your fly, you need to commit to a strong hook set. A weak set can cost you a fish, even several moments into a fight or right as you are trying to net it.

Kelly Harrison

Q: Do you fish year round? A: Absolutely. To get good, you must be willing to fish even during the cold months. And a bonus is that the off season is when there’s less traffic on the rivers. But to do that, you must have good gear that keeps you dry and warm, not wind-whipped and frozen. And the same holds true in the heat of summer. Use clothing and headgear with sun protection, and always wear sunblock. Q: What could all anglers do to improve? A: One, learn what is too much or too little slack in your line when it’s on the water. Too little can cause the fly to drag, and too much can cost you a hook set. Two, you have to present the fly so it looks real. A lot of times the exact fly pattern doesn’t matter as much as how you’re fishing it. Q: You’re one of the few Montana fishing guides who actually grew up here. What do you want

All of us should feel an obligation to keep our environment clean and healthy.

TOP TO BOTTOM: KELLY HARRISON; DAN LEAVENS

rod but then not take care of their fly line.

for the future of fishing in Montana? A: I want anglers to take responsibility for their local rivers. If you see trash, line, hooks, or whatever, pick it up. All of us should feel an obligation to keep our environment clean and healthy. JOHN SINDLAND Longtime guide for Bighorn Angler, Fort Smith Home water: Bighorn River Q: John, the Bighorn can see hundreds of anglers in a day. How do you deal with the feeling of being crowded? A: I think the key is to be respectful of other anglers by giving them the space and time they need to enjoy the experience—and hopefully they will do the same in return.

Q: On a river like the Bighorn that has lots of trout but also lots of anglers, what advice can you give to help anglers in those situations? A: Be observant. Look for subtle rise forms, pushes, and movements in the water column. Fish the nooks and crannies, and try fishing the areas that aren’t as popular or

John Sindland

well-known. I have had some very good days fishing areas that don’t receive as much pressure as the so-called hot spots.

TOP TO BOTTOM: JOHN SINDLAND; ED COYLE

Q: What are some things that anglers can do to show respect to other anglers? A: Politely communicate. For instance,

when you approach another boat, ask to find out where they plan to fish, and then adjust your plan accordingly. Something as simple as, “Hello. How’s the fishing? Are you planning to fish upstream or downstream?” Also, don’t be a “hole hog” and fish the same spot for hours. On the Bighorn, I’ve seen guys hike in and set up a tent next to a good hole so they can fish it all day. At a fishing access site, be sure not to block the ramp. Load your gear away from the ramp. And when you return, quickly get your boat out of the water and off the ramp before you start removing gear so other anglers can use it.

MONTANA OUTDOORS | 35

Working the

Walleye Factory Fresno produces more of these delicious ﬁsh per acre than any other reservoir in Montana. Here’s how to put some in your cooler. By Tom Dickson

36 | MAY–JUNE 2019 | FWP.MT.GOV/MTOUTDOORS

numerous walleye. “It’s a walleye factory,” Nagel says. He explains that the Milk River, flowing through the fertile farmlands of southern Alberta, supplies the reservoir with nutrients that fuel production of zooplankton and invertebrates that young walleye eat. The addition of Fresno’s abundant walleye spawning and rearing habitats and cool but not cold water for adults in summer creates “ideal conditions for strong natural reproduction,” Nagel says. Since 2014, FWP fall netting surveys

TYPICAL An angler and his son show off a typical Fresno “eater”-size walleye.

have averaged 16.4 Sander vitreus, or walleye, per net, the highest abundance in the state. Anglers target this close cousin to the yellow perch and sauger for its white, bone-free fillets. Nagel says catch rates from late April through June are 0.5 to 0.7 fish per hour. In other words, on average, an angler who fishes there for four hours catches two or three walleye. That’s twice the state average. Limits of five walleye are common, even from shore. Most of the fish tend to be “eaters,” threeyear-old fish in the 14- to 16-inch range. ABUNDANT BUT NOT BIG That’s Fresno’s good news. The bad news, at least for some anglers, is that these prairie walleye don’t grow as big as those in Canyon Ferry, Tiber, and Fort Peck Reservoirs. It’s an ecosystem issue. Nagel explains that as abundant young walleye grow, they need to eat bigger food—ideally, 5- to 10-inch perch or crappies—to reach the 25-inch-plus size that anglers consider trophies. “Fresno just can’t grow the number of perch and crappies needed to provide a larger forage option,” he

TOP TO BOTTOM: ERIC ENGBRETSON; FRESNO WALLEYES

n a warm evening in mid-May, Montana Fish, Wildlife & Parks fisheries biologist Cody Nagel and I drive past grasslands and wheat fields until we reach Fresno Reservoir, a Milk River impoundment that flows into Hill County from Canada. After rigging our spinning rods with small leadhead jigs tipped with rubber minnow look-alikes—live minnows aren’t allowed in the reservoir—we wade into the shallows of a quiet bay and begin casting. Other than the faint “plop” of the jigs hitting the water, the only other sounds are the distant hum of a powerboat and the cooing of mourning doves flying in and out of cottonwood stands lining the shore. Located 14 miles west of Havre on the HiLine and owned and operated by the Bureau of Reclamation (BOR), Fresno was built in 1939 to supply water for irrigation and municipalities and to control flooding. The 5,700-acre impoundment also provides opportunities for boating and fishing. Though Fresno produces northern pike, yellow perch, black crappies, and lake whitefish, most anglers seek the reservoir’s

says. That’s because the reservoir’s abun- ments where water levels remain relatively northern pike, and yellow perch to use the dant midsize walleye eat up almost all of the steady, as in a natural lake. But Fresno is a submerged rock, gravel, and vegetation for forage fish before the perch and crappies “flow-through” reservoir, meaning the river spawning. Then the young-of-the-year fish grow large enough to feed larger walleye. runs to, through, and out of the impound- can hide out in that shallow-water habitat, What’s more, the reservoir has relatively few ment. That increases water fluctuations. producing a strong year class,” Nagel says. “If suckers and other forage species that fatten Nagel says Fresno rises and drops as much the water stays high through June, we also walleye in other reservoirs. Cisco, an oily as 20 feet in a given year as the BOR holds can see some great crappie reproduction.” High water comes with a cost, however. salmonid that produces big walleye (includ- water from spring runoff, then releases it ing the state record) on the much deeper during summer to downstream irrigators. “We lose many adult fish that flush over the Tiber, about 85 miles to the west, can’t “When water levels drop, you lose a lot of the spillway during extremely high reservoir rock and vegetation habitat in the shallows levels,” Nagel says. survive in the relatively shallow Fresno. Stocking additional young walleye, a that young-of-the-year fish need to avoid management strategy used on some other predators,” Nagel says. CHAPTER MEMBERS CHIP IN Fresno’s game fish reproduce best when FWP and local anglers have no control over reservoirs with different ecological conditions, wouldn’t work on Fresno. “You need the reservoir has high and stable water levels Fresno water levels and how that affects the the right balance between forage and pred- during April spawning. “That allows walleye, walleye population. But they can improve ator fish species to achieve a long-term sustainable walleye population and size IN CLOSE Right: structure,” Nagel says. “Hatchery fish would FWP ﬁsheries biolodisrupt that by adding more pressure on the gist Cody Nagel limited forage base. It would end up reduc- casts a small jig into ing the average walleye size because there’d Fresno’s waist-deep waters late one May be that many more mouths to feed.” evening. Below: Though boaters regularly crisscross the 5,700-acre reservoir, most of the best walleye ﬁshing is found close to shore.

TOP TO BOTTOM: TOM DICKSON; JOHN WARNER

WATER UP, WATER DOWN The reservoir’s yo-yoing water levels pose another fisheries management challenge. Some Montana reservoirs, such as Nelson near Malta, are off-site storage impound-

MONTANA OUTDOORS | 37

ACTIVE Left: Members of the Walleyes Unlimited Fresno Chapter with trees they haul onto the frozen reservoir to create perch habitat. Right: In summer, chapter members take local kids ﬁshing and sponsor a youth ﬁshing tournament.

with little structure,” he says. “Walleye stage there throughout most of the day, but then they come close to shore during the lowlight periods of early morning and evening to feed.” Most anglers fish from boats, Nagel says, but they often cruise the shallows, casting or trolling near shore. “Usually it can be just as productive wade-fishing Fresno from shore as fishing from a boat,” he says. “Once I figure out where the fish are located, I can catch them from shore all summer long.” NOT TONIGHT On this particular spring evening, I’m not having much luck. In two hours all I’ve caught are a few small northern pike. These hardfighting fish are fun to catch and can be great to eat, but the “hammer handles” I hooked were too small to keep. Nagel points out that the area received four inches of rain during the previous two weeks, rapidly raising water levels and flooding the shoreline. “That will be good for forage fish production later this

SHORE FISHING Not only can anglers catch abundant walleye at Fresno, they can do it from shore throughout much of the open-water season. Catching fish from shore is possible on most walleye reservoirs for a few weeks in spring and fall, when fish cruise the shallows to feed. But walleye typically head to deeper, cooler water in midsummer to chase cold-water forage fish such as cisco. That puts them out of reach for anglers without a boat. That’s not the case at Fresno. Nagel says most of the reservoir’s underwater fish-holding structure is part of the ledge rock INVESTIGATING Cody Nagel cuts that runs along the shoreline. open the head of a typical Fresno walleye to remove otoliths (near Forage species such as perch, right) that he will later examine emerald shiners, and spottail under a microscope to age the ﬁsh. shiners hang out in the rocky Far right: Nagel checks young-ofshallows. “The middle of the the-year walleye numbers to see reservoir is just a big mud sink, how a new generation is faring. 38 | MAY–JUNE 2019 | FWP.MT.GOV/MTOUTDOORS

summer, but it’s not so good for us tonight,” he says. “The walleye could be anywhere, even over there in the flooded trees.” At nightfall, he and I don headlamps and tie on crankbaits. Annoyed by bright sunlight, walleye become less spooky and more aggressive after dark. Casting crankbaits allows us to cover more water than we could by jigging. We each head in different directions along shore, wading slowly in waist-deep water while fan-casting in search of cruising fish. Two hours later, around 10 p.m., we meet back at Nagel’s truck. He’s caught one 15-inch walleye. I’ve come up blank. “Most nights between April and October, walleye bite well for 20 minutes to two hours between 7 and 10 p.m.,” he says. Most nights, but not this one. Still, I’ll be back. I don’t own a boat, and there aren’t many places where I can catch a limit of walleye from shore. It’ll take more than one fishless night to keep me away from this HiLine walleye factory. CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: FRESNO WALLEYES; FRESNO WALLEYES; JESSE VARNADO; JOHN WARNER; JOHN WARNER

recreational amenities at the reservoir. Nate Molstad, president of the Walleyes Unlimited Fresno Chapter, says group members have installed fishing docks, repaired aging boat ramps, built a campground and pavilion, donated picnic tables, and paid for laying gravel on roads. “We try to tackle about anything that anglers need out there,” he says. Members raise funds with a local banquet that attracts 400 to 450 people each April, followed by a month-long raffle of hunting rifles and shotguns. The chapter also holds an annual youth education day, a kids’ fishing tournament, and the Fresno Challenge, which is part of the Montana walleye tournament circuit. Molstad adds that each winter group members work with FWP crews to drag old Christmas trees onto the frozen reservoir; the woody debris sinks with ice-out and provides habitat for perch, a key forage species for walleye.

Fresno walleye through the year Cody Nagel lives and breathes walleye. He grew up fishing for the glassy-eyed species in North Dakota, and today manages Montana’s most productive walleye water. When he gets off work, Nagel goes walleye fishing—on his own, with his wife and kids, or with a buddy on the walleye tournament circuit. “It’s nuts; I admit it,” he says. Here’s how this self-described walleye fanatic fishes Fresno through the year: The season begins in late April after iceout, when fish move from deeper water to shallows to spawn along rocky reefs. Nagel fishes the upper reservoir with Flicker Shads, floating Rapalas, and other shallow-running crankbaits in perch or chartreuse colors. The action heats up in May and June as warming water increases the fish’s metabolism. That’s when Nagel moves down-reservoir and fishes a ⅛-ounce leadhead jig tipped with half a night crawler or a rubber twister tail or paddle tail in two to ten feet of water. Live minnows are not allowed in Fresno. Nagel says walleye swim almost anywhere along the lower reservoir that time of year. “No need to drive very far. I stay close

to the campground,” he says. In summer, Nagel switches to a slightly heavier ¼-ounce jig and fishes a bit deeper, in 15 to 20 feet of water, focusing on underwater points where the water drops off quickly. Because walleye don’t like bright sunlight, the best fishing starts in late afternoon when the sun is low and improves after sunset. If jigs don’t produce, he switches to crankbaits, especially after dark. A simple slip-bobber and worm or leech works, too. “I’ve caught limits from shore on July evenings while my kids are swimming nearby,” he says. The fishing usually peters out in August through September, when young-of-theyear perch and crappie are abundant and walleye prefer the real thing over anglers’ artificial offerings. “Then in October and November, if you can stand the cold, things really pick up,” Nagel says. “I fish at night right off the boat ramp with a lantern that attracts zooplankton. Forage fish come right in, with walleye right behind.” Fresno usually ices over by mid-November. Most years, the ice reaches a safe six

to eight inches by Christmas—though you should always check depth by drilling holes before venturing too far out. Most of the ice ﬁshing happens within the main basin and bays, where anglers focus on the deeper water and steep ledges where winter walleye, crappies, and perch concentrate. Nagel says dead or frozen suckers, ﬁshed on tip-ups, seem to work best for walleye. Jigging spoons and jigging Rapalas can also produce.

“Some years, ice fishing for walleye on Fresno can be tough,” he says. “I’ve had my best years when forage production was low and the walleye were hungrier than usual.” Many ice anglers have better luck catching northern pike or lake whitefish. “Whitefish don’t get much attention,” Nagel says. “Fresno has a good population of these great eating fish, and they average three to five pounds.” n

JOHN WARNER

JUST CAN’T QUIT Nagel, his wife Dezerae, and son Brayden troll for walleye with shallow-running crankbaits. “We like the boat, but we mainly ﬁsh from shore,” Nagel says. “We’ve caught a lot of limits while my son is right there playing in the water.”

MONTANA OUTDOORS | 39

SKETCHBOOK

ho will pay to manage and conserve fish and wildlife 25, 50, or 100 years from now? For the past half century, anglers and hunters have funded most of that work. Money they spend on fishing and hunting licenses goes to state agencies like FWP to hire biologists, acquire and protect habitat, and monitor species and populations. Anglers and hunters also pony up through federal excise taxes on shooting, fishing, and boating gear. The money goes to state fish and wildlife projects. The results of this arrangement, the North American Model of Fish and Wildlife Conservation, have been astounding. Populations of elk, pronghorn, deer, wild turkeys, and many fish species today far exceed what they were in the early 20th century. What’s more, restoring these populations has required state and federal wildlife agencies to identify and safeguard critical habitats. Along with environmental laws protecting land and water, that work has restored and sustained wild places such as national wildlife refuges, state wildlife lands, federal wilderness areas, intracontinental migration routes, wild and scenic rivers, and blue ribbon trout streams. But the North American Model has some shortcomings. A big one is that it’s based on hunter and angler numbers at least keeping pace with overall population growth. That isn’t happening. Even in a hunting and fishing–obsessed state like Mon-

40 | MAY–JUNE 2019 | FWP.MT.GOV/MTOUTDOORS

BY TOM DICKSON

helps land, water, and wildlife. But stoke doesn’t necessarily translate into caring about, much less fighting for, the natural resources that support outdoor recreation. Instead, it “centers on the self and the quality of human experience, and thus has no intrinsic stake in biodiversity or ecosystem stability,” Linck writes. In coming years, converting stoke into conservation funding and political action will challenge agencies like FWP. Kayaking and rock climbing don’t need fish and wildlife. Even if every elk, deer, mountain goat, walleye, and trout disappeared overnight, a person could still Jet Ski, canoe, or mountain bike. Those activites might not be as much fun, but the absence of fish and wildlife wouldn’t render them meaningless in the same way it would angling and hunting. And if some members of the growing outdoor recreation community don’t value wildlife and fish as much as hunters and anglers do, convincing them to pay to conserve and manage moose, sauger, and the places where those and other species live could be especially difficult. One solution may be for agencies like FWP to help more people develop what sociologists call “place attachment”: a sense of identity with and dependence on healthy local landscapes and the ways those places enrich our lives. This new perspective could produce “a different outdoor recreation culture, one that emphasizes the pleasure of knowing the wild that comes from daily practices that form bonds with places that are the backdrops to our lives,” Linck writes. In other words, we learn to view the natural world less as a playground and more as a home, or even a temple: a sacred place made of precious, irreplaceable materials. That perspective, in turn, would open hearts and wallets to help conserve and protect the places where wild things live and thrive. Getting stoked about mountain biking, hunting, skiing, fly-fishing, or rock climbing produces a definite high. But knowing we are helping conserve the lands, waters, and wildlife that make those outdoor activities possiTom Dickson is editor of Montana Outdoors. ble? That may be the best feeling of all.

tana, those numbers are slipping per capita. Elsewhere, the decline is alarming. State and federal agencies are working with industry and nonprofits to stem or even reverse that trend. But for now, the combination of fewer licenses sold and less hunting and fishing gear purchased means a declining revenue stream for management and conservation. Meanwhile, participation in other outdoor sports is flying high. Mountain biking, hiking, kayaking, off-roading, camping, skiing, rock climbing, RVing, stand-up paddleboarding, and other activities have seen steady and in some cases explosive growth, according to the Outdoor Industry Association. This new dynamic—fewer duck hunters but more trail runners—creates a challenge for traditional fish and wildlife conservationists. Can we instill in those other outdoor adventurers a conservation ethic resulting in conservation funding and advocacy? If so, what would be the process through which a mountain biker or kayaker pays to protect and manage trout streams and elk winter range? (Almost no state or federal tax dollars go to fish and wildlife conservation.) Adding to the dilemma is the possibility that outdoor recreationists think they already do enough. That’s the concern of Ethan Linck in a 2018 essay in High Country News (“Your Stoke Won’t Save Us”). Linck maintains that many outdoor adventurists mistakenly believe their passion itself is an act of conservation. That just getting “stoked”—being enthusiastic or exhilarated—about bouldering, whitewater rafting, or backcountry skiing is an act of moral goodness that somehow

ILLUSTRATION BY STAN FELLOWS

Getting stoked on conservation

MONTANA OUTDOORS PORTRAIT

Grasshopper sparrow

Ammodramus savannarum By Heather Harris

ontana’s many grassland passerine (songbird) species are beautiful to see, marvelous to watch, and wondrous to hear. Unfortunately, sometimes they are not considered worth a second glance and often get dismissed as “LBJs” (“little brown jobs”). It’s true these birds are small and hard to tell apart. The Sibley Guide to Birds describes one sparrow species as having a “relatively plain face” and says it is “brown and tan with light streaking, but isn’t as streaky as other sparrows and has an unstreaked buffy breast.” That’s not too helpful for most people. I can understand why these seemingly plain-looking species often are disregarded when compared with brightly colored bluebirds or melodic meadowlarks. But grassland passerines are unique species with subtle but gorgeous markings, unique songs, and other traits. One of my favorites is the grasshopper sparrow.

IDENTIFICATION Grasshopper sparrows are small birds that regularly flutter their wings while perched on grass stalks or barbed-wire fencing. A grasshopper sparrow appears brown and indistinguishable from most other field sparrows. But closer examination reveals intricate patterns of rufous spots along its back and wings. It has a large, flat-crowned head, a short tail, and a larger bill than many similar-looking species. The relatively plain face is set off with a white eye ring and often is marked with small patches of yellow on the “lore” (the area between the eye and bill).

DONALD M. JONES

HABITAT Grasshopper sparrows live throughout Montana in open grasslands, prairies, hayfields, Heather Harris is FWP’s regional nongame wildlife biologist and furbearer specialist in Glasgow.

and pastures. These small birds stay close to the ground and often walk or run rather than fly. Their stealthiness and nondescript plumage allow them to disappear into the prairie while they forage on the ground, unnoticed by predators. Grasshopper sparrows fly south each October to winter in grasslands of the southern United States, Mexico, and western Central America. VOICE Because grasshopper sparrows breed in Montana, their mating calls can help with identification. They typically arrive here in late April and begin making their insectlike song: tik tuk tikeeeeeeez. The high-pitched buzz resembles that of a grasshopper, which accounts for the sparrow’s name. To hear the call, do an online search for “grasshopper sparrow song.” Once you learn its distinct call, the species becomes easy to identify. SCIENTIFIC NAME Ammodramus is from a Greek word meaning “sand runner,” perhaps referring to the amount of time the various sparrow species in this genus spend hopping around on the ground. Savannarum is Latin for “grassland.” FOOD Grasshopper sparrows mainly eat grasshoppers, beetles, caterpillars, and spiders. They are preyed upon by loggerhead shrikes, bull snakes, foxes, and various prairie raptors. REPRODUCTION Grasshopper sparrows nest on the ground in a small bowl of dry grass lined with finer grass, rootlets, and animal hair. The nest sits hidden at the base of a large clump of grass in a slight depression on the prairie. To further reduce unwanted attention from pred-

ators, the sparrows walk to and from their nest a short distance before taking flight. Females incubate four or five creamy white eggs with reddish-brown spots for 11 to 12 days. Once the eggs hatch, both adults tend the nestlings. They capture insects for themselves and their young by first immobilizing each bug with a pinch behind its head and then vigorously shaking the legs off. The young typically leave the nest nine days after hatching, before they can fly well. They depend on their superbly camouflaged plumage to blend into surroundings and escape predators’ eyes. Each year, grasshopper sparrows raise up to three clutches of eggs, running from May through July. CONSERVATION The grasshopper sparrow is common in Montana grasslands and other intact shortgrass prairies across the United States. But the continent-wide population is declining because of the loss and fragmentation of the bird’s grassland habitat as it is converted to crop land, highways, and housing. According to the North American Breeding Bird Survey, the population declined by roughly 2.5 percent per year between 1966 and 2015. MONTANA OUTDOORS | 41

I want their day at Montana WILD to last a lifetime. Or two, or three.

At FWP’s Montana WILD education center, we help kids and adults gain a greater appreciation for all things wild. When people learn about state parks, wildlife, and ﬁsh, they value and conserve those resources so that someday their kids and grandkids can experience everything that wild Montana has to offer. My name is Ryan Schmaltz. And the outside is in me. RYAN SCHMALTZ

MONTANA WILD EDUCATOR

HELENA

THE OUTSIDE IS IN US ALL.

MONTANA OUTDOORS

On-line: fwp.mt.gov/mtoutdoors Subscriptions: 800-678-6668 Montana Outdoors Magazine

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