Montana Fly Fishing Adventure – July 2025
… by Simon Joel
After some initial indecision, I joined a guided fly fishing trip to Montana in mid-July. The tour was arranged and hosted by Antony Boliancu of Goulburn Valley Fly Fishing. The lead into the trip – coinciding with the US presidential election – meant several cancellations, and for a while, the trip hung in the balance. But to Antony’s credit, he was determined to not let down those of us who were still keen to go. In the end just three of us – Craig, David, and myself – made the journey for nine days of guided fishing, twelve days in total, on some of the most iconic rivers and lakes in Montana and neighbouring Idaho.
We met in Bozeman a few days before the official start of the trip. I wandered the town’s famous fly shops, visited the local county fair, listened to live street music and sampled a few local bars and restaurants. David and Craig were long-time fishing mates, so I was technically the third wheel. But they made me feel welcome from day one.
Our first leg took us north to Craig, Montana, a tiny town perched on the upper Missouri River. We stopped in Helena for a pizza lunch and picked up supplies. Antony had found us a lovely Airbnb just outside of town – comfortable and well-equipped, with a great BBQ and views of the river.
The next morning we headed into Craig to meet our guides. I was paired with Noah, who drove us up to Holter Dam to begin our drift back toward town. A bout of cold weather had dampened the surface fishing, so we fished heavy nymph rigs under indicators. The action was excellent – brown and rainbow trout to 22 inches, along with the native whitefish, a strong if under-appreciated fighter. The others drifted further downstream, dealing with more weed but still landing quality fish. That night, we dined at Craig’s one and only restaurant, enjoying a surprisingly good Cuban-themed meal
On day two I was back with Noah for another float from Holter Dam. We were on the water early, and just after setting up with nymphs a dense Trico hatch blanketed the river, bringing trout to the surface in large numbers. We quickly switched to small dry flies, and I’ll never forget watching a 19-inch rainbow sip my offering before coming to the net. One of those magic moments. That night’s BBQ featured thick Montana steaks and David’s signature salad.
My final day on the Missouri was spent with Rich, a US Army veteran from the cavalry division. He proudly traced the unit’s history back to the Revolutionary War, and puffed Lucky Strikes (though never in the boat). We stuck to the double-nymph setup and had another productive day on the water.
After three days on the Missouri we headed south to Dillon and the Beaverhead River. Our new digs were spectacular – a barn “penthouse” in the middle of vast wheatfields with a huge balcony and million dollar views. A quick stop in town for supplies and lunch at Sparkie’s – a quirky, converted garage café – set us up nicely.
Fishing the Beaverhead was… different. It’s another tailwater, this time flowing from Clark Canyon Reservoir. The rigs were heavier still – lead shot below the nymphs to bump along the riverbed. It was more Czech-nymphing than casting, and not exactly elegant, but the results were undeniable. Many large browns and rainbows came to hand.
The next day we launched further downstream and mixed it up—nymphs, streamers, and even grasshopper dries cast to the bank. Our final day in Dillon saw us head for the Big Hole River, an hour away. With temperatures rising, the river operated under “hoot owl” restrictions, closing at 2 pm. We fished hoppers to rising fish and landed all three main trout species – rainbows, browns, and cutthroats – along with more whitefish. A dramatic thunderstorm brought rain and thunderclaps as we finished up, but even then the fish kept eating off the surface
From Dillon we continued south-east to Island Park, Idaho. On the way, Antony suggested we stop for lunch in West Yellowstone and do a half-day tour through the national park’s southern loop. What a detour! Geysers, boiling mud pools, thundering waterfalls, wild bison, bald eagles! It was a surreal addition to an already incredible trip.
We arrived at our lakeside house in Island Park just on dark. Once again, Antony had sourced a gem. It overlooked Henry’s Lake and was surrounded by mountains. The following morning we drove to West Yellowstone to meet our guides. I chose to float the Madison River with Andy, my guide. The Madison is a broad, swift tailwater below Hebgen and Quake Lakes (the latter formed by a 1959 earthquake). It was a dry fly day, with plenty of strikes and strong fish.
The highlight of the trip for me came the next day – fishing Hebgen Lake itself. As a lover of Tasmania’s highland lakes, this felt like home. We had calm conditions, a thick hatch of Callibaetis mayflies, and dragonflies buzzing everywhere. My Canadian guide, Marshal, had me casting to rising fish. The lake reminded me of Penstock Lagoon – just one hundred times larger. We worked out the direction of feeding fish and intercepted them with dries. It was sublime with multiple browns and rainbows to 21 inches brought to the net.
On our final fishing day I rejoined Andy for a drift on Idaho’s famous Henry’s Fork. The plan was to throw grasshopper dries to the banks for big browns. It was a proper all-or-nothing session. In the end two large rainbows to 20 inches came to the net, but I lost the fish of the day – a big brown – after a long fight when it dived under the boat. A bittersweet but fitting end to the fishing.
The next morning we dropped David in West Yellowstone to meet his wife Lynn. Craig, Antony and I continued to Bozeman for our flight home. It was a trip full of friendship, fine fishing, authentic American roadside dining, and scenery that will stay with me for life.
A heartfelt thank-you to Antony Boliancu for his meticulous planning, local knowledge, and warm hosting throughout. He runs annual Montana trips – so if you get the chance, go!