Pulling my truck into the small gravel parking lot near the national park trail-head sign, I stepped out into a cool but sticky summer morning. Across the road the small fog bank settled in over where I knew the stream to be, and everything not covered by a canopy of trees appeared saturated with dew. I pulled on some lightweight hip-boots, rigged my rod and tied on a #16 tan caddis pattern which is always a starting fly for me on this particular water.

Standing below the small barrier wall I eyed-up a few seams that looked promising for a drift. It wasn't a matter of "if" there were fish to be caught. But rather, which pattern and which seam they would desire today. I tied on a C2C Hare, which is a bead-head version of the Gold-Ribbed hare's Ear that I have been fishing for years. It's a great prospecting nymph, and one that I have confidence in when fishing clear cold waters of winter.

In one way or another I have been involved in the sport of angling for over 60 years. Forty-seven of those years have been spent fly fishing. While this is not as long as some, during those years I have covered the gamut of fresh water fly fishing from bluegills to salmon. In the course of time I have spent time working in a world famous fly shop, been a Montana river fly fishing guide, taught fly tying, fly casting and aquatic entomology classes. Along the way I served as a board member and state council chairman for Trout Unlimited, been a publisher, editor, and author for a couple fly fishing rags. Now approaching my three score and ten I find myself increasingly reflective, increasingly questioning the relevance of the sport that has consumed most of my leisure time for several decades.

I've always loved hardware stores, something about being dragged along with my dad when I was a kid when he needed to pick up something; absolutely fascinating places in the 'old days,' Disney-level entertainment today.

So there I was waiting for my husband Trav to pick up whatever he needed and I'm just looking around to see what's new at the Lowe's store in Bozeman Montana.  And pow – there it is! The perfect answer to Montana's cold. Especially if one is a fly fisher who thinks fishing in the winter is even a possibility. That probably isn't going to be even a possibility for me personally since I've given up on winter in Montana and instead opt out of it entirely by living for six months of the year in sunny Arizona. (and yes it really is)

This is the fifth in a series of furled extended body flies that have served me quite well over the past several years on the freestone streams and rivers of Idaho and Montana. The series started with a salmon fly, went on to a golden stone, a hopper, and an October Caddis. The first three use a foam forward body and bullethead, the last two use deer hair bodies and bulletheads.

It is a day off and time to hit a pond. There had been variable amounts of rain over the past few days. Officially about 2.5 inches, but there were reports of up to 6 inches in places. Heavy bands of rain went through in places. Then the cold front came through. To wet to drive into any placed. The temperature is 49 degrees with a 20 mph wind.

First, a little science; fish can be aged by examining scales or various bones (scale exams leave a live specimen). Hard body parts grow as the fish grows, adding annual rings similar to the rings in trees. Under a microfiche reader, panfish scales look a bit like a blend of a fingerprint and a common seashell. Scales get larger as the fish grows by adding to the outside edge. Because fish are cold-blooded and grow very little during winter, a thicker ring is formed, giving a year mark. 

Like a black snake, two lanes of asphalt snakes away in a generally southwesterly direction from the town of Hardin, Montana. The country rolls way like a green carpet toward the Big Horn River and the town of Fort Smith. It's roughly 40 miles from Hardin to Fort Smith, and the road takes you through miles of farm land where cock pheasants can be seen walking around in the alfalfa and sugar beet fields.

June 28th, an event at home was the reason my clients had departed and this means that I have three days to fish on the spring creeks before my next trip begins. Back in part five I shared a story about wet spinners and their importance and in this selection I am going share a story about an old famous fly pattern and how spinners are important to the trout and the angler.