August

Finally, I hatched a plan. It had very little to do with fishing, though. Mostly beer and goofing off, really. More goofing off than fishing.

There are many gorgeous things in the west: the mountains, the valleys, the meadows; the elk, deer, bears, moose, and other wildlife, but all that pales to me in comparison to the fishing, and to the drink. The west is unparalleled in its number of microbreweries, and a great beer is another passion of mine. Places like Livingston, Bozeman, even Missoula and West Yellowstone, seem to gravitate anglers and assholes, and have always seemed a bit intimidating to me. I’d much rather pursue my sport without all the douchebaggery somewhere a bit off the beaten path, as opposed to somewhere everyone and their mother ventures to. But I don’t mind watching the show from time to time, and taking a break to replenish the soul and amuse ones’ self at the expense of others is always a good idea, particularly with a delicious brew in hand..

From Absarokee, I’d hop up onto I-90 and head west towards Livingston, where I would visit the Neptune Brewery, The Fly Fishing Federation Museum, and Dan Bailey’s headquarters. Mostly just to drink and be a tourist. From there, I would head to Bozeman, check out the fly shops, the college, the Bozeman Brewery and the Montana Ale Works. From there, if I could make it, I would be able to hop to Belgrade and hit the Madison River Brewing Company, and then on to Butte and hit their brewery. Stop and fish some in the Rock Creek Drainage, then on over the Divide to the Bitterroot drainage, and breweries in Hamilton and Stevensville. But that was still at least a day away, and up for further investigation.


Montana has funny beer laws. Like a brewery, which doesn’t serve food, can only serve their brew from 4 until 8 pm. I did not know this, so when I arrived in Livingston, at Neptune’s Brewery, at 11 in the morning, it was closed.

I also did not know the Federation of Fly Fishers had closed their museum back in March. So I stood outside the old building and took some pictures and peeked through the windows and doors to see if I could spot any neat, run-down exhibits. I didn’t. All I could do was take a picture of this neon sign.

Next on the list of things to see in Livingston was the Fly Fishing Federation's Museum of Fly Fishing. I had checked it out on Google, and it seemed like a nice place to bum around for a couple hours, looking at exhibits and such.

But the museum was closed. It had been closed since March. I did find the building, though, an old school, kind of neat looking, with a big FFF sign out front. It was kind of neat, and to prevent myself from feeling defeated, I snapped a couple photos.








I did, however, find Dan Bailey’s. It was neat, but not as relavatory as I supposed. Just a big fly shop with a few rather cool things in it. I suppose I expected it to be more museum-like.

So I wandered around downtown Livingston, checking out art galleries and fly shops, bars and restaurants. I eventually wandered into The Sport, an establishment which apparently has been there for a century, and which, more importantly, had sixteen different beers on tap, including a few from the Neptune Brewery. I figured that counted, so ordered a Philly Steak and a few brews. Delicious, and the owner and the waitress were both fun.






























From there, I made it to Bozeman, checked out the downtown area, as well as a few fly shops. Definitely liked Livingston over Bozeman. And Montana breweries are insanely difficult to find. I wandered around trying to find both the Bozeman Brewery and the Montana Ale Works. I did find the Ale Works, but it seemed like an awfully corporate deal, so I bowed out.

There were a couple neat fly shops and other businesses downtown, it’s nice to see something other than a Wal-Mart dominating the business-cape. It was alright, but I headed on west to Belgrade, and spent two hours looking for the Madison River Brewery. I found the Madison River, and I found the Gallatin River. I did not find the brewery. I even found the strip-mall area where I suppose the brewery was tucked away. I did not, however, find the brewery, ever. So I moved on to Butte.

I did find the Butte Brewery, after passing it three times. The first time I think they caught on I was looking for it, because I drew a crowd of three or four people. It was basically an old garage, an industrial outfit in which they put the wort pots and some hardwood booths. It was a neat deal, piles of sacks of barley and hops seemingly scattered about, and the bartender/brew master was very open about his fishing spots, which was a definite bonus. I had two beers and bought a couple stickers before heading over to the rock creek drainage and crashing on a small Forest Service campground there.

It was nice, deep in the woods amongst massive pine trees. a little stream, no wider than ten feet in most places, ran along the front of it. I still had about two hours of daylight, so I figured it was necessary to prospect the water.

About a hundred yards downstream of the campground were a few pools, each about the size of two parking spaces side-by-side. I tossed in a trude and a fish rose, smashing the fly. A decent, delightful, strong westslope cutthroat. I caught six, enjoying the tiny stream and the surprisingly large fish it contained. This is how a native fishery should be.