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North Fork Redux

The North Fork remains my favorite river to float due to a nice mix of challenging, but not scary whitewater, incredible scenery, and ease of access

By Rob Breeding

Summer is winding down. Exposed rock gardens on thinner reaches of the North Fork tell the tale: It’s back-to-school time.

Winter snowpack was good and late spring was wet and cool, so for much of the summer, flows were high or at least higher than average. But things are largely back to normal now. Flows are about average for this time of year, which means the thrill of big whitewater has been replaced by the anxiety of dodging sleepers. In a raft, sleepers — submerged rocks shallow enough to be a problem for watercraft — can be annoying. In a hard boat, however, they can turn a good day bad in an instant, spilling you and the contents of your boat into the water and allowing floating valuables to gather in downstream eddies.

Whitewater types refer to the eddy-captured debris as yard sales.

The North Fork remains my favorite river to float due to a nice mix of challenging, but not scary whitewater, incredible scenery, and ease of access. But despite all that is great about the river it’ll never shut down entirely my talent for whining. I learned to whine early in life and I’ve become quite practiced at the art.

My biggest complaint is the small fish. Fortunately, they’re small cutthroats, so they somewhat make up for their lack of size with their zeal for eating dry flies. You catch so many fish on a good day on the North Fork that despite an average size under 10 inches, you may catch more poundage of trout per day here than on any other Montana river.

It’s hard to get excited about that as you set the hook on another 6 incher, yanking a sardine-sized trout out of the water in the process. Still, I’ll take catching little guys all day over not catching anything in a heartbeat.

I have a dream. That dream is that one day the bull trout population on the forks will have recovered to a level where we can make a regular habit of catching and releasing them. I’m hearing more stories of folks catching bulls, but you don’t manage struggling species based on anecdote.

We did see a few fish that were clearly bulls on our float. When you have time in the slow clear pools keep an eye on the bottom, especially near the tail where the pool begins to shallow. Most of the big fish you’ll see are suckers. But when you spot a dark shape near bottom moving away from your boat it could be a bull. Suckers are unfazed by shadows and rarely move even when you drift right over them.

Of course, on the average summer day the forks of the Flathead host enough examples of boating stupidity to provide programming for a weekly reality television show. Call it “Yard Sales of the Damp and Destitute.”

We got a reminder of how things roll on the North Fork. After putting in at Big Creek we headed downstream and posted up in a nice spot where a side channel rejoins the main river. There, we engaged in that eternal North Fork past time of catching cutthroats right and left, then saying, “Add another 10 inches and that would almost be a nice fish,” as we released them.

Then a raft we’d seen at the put in appeared, heading straight for our boat and running, literally, over our fly lines in the process. The captain informed us that their friends hadn’t yet shown up to join them, so if we were to see any other vessels we were to tell them that their party was already headed downriver.

I was speechless. Even teenagers hammered on pimped PBR apologize when they realize their failing forelimbs won’t be enough to keep their inner tubes from drifting through your run. There are more seriously fished rivers in Montana where a bonehead move like that might lead to violence.

But not here. As the raft drifted “downstream” we shook our heads and laughed. It was the North Fork after all. Even before the captain was out of sight 6-inch cutties were again rising just a few feet from our boat.