Fly fishing, like every true passion,
recasts everything in its image: the
weather, the sun, the bugs, the fauna
around the river, one’s children, the
water temperature and clarity—all
become unified and interrelated flowing
naturally into the singular act of “fly
fishing.” The act itself here in quotations
represents to practitioners something
more, something beyond a simple set
of skills.
He is standing waist deep in the Mo
below Craig Dam, catching his fifth fish
in an hour, “This isn’t how I normally
fish, I call this ‘production fishing,’” he
tells me in a humble manner, laughing,
“But it gives Jake something to shoot.”
Fred is nymphing with a “classified” sow
bug—Fred tells me and Jake about the
evolution of this secret breed of bug,
“It’s all hand done. Hand carved, hand
It’s something primordial almost, it connects us back
to the time of the hunter gatherers when it was not
just a passion, but a way of life,” says prolific Fred
Telleen of the Great Falls N40 Fly Shop.