I took a drive up the Blackfoot River yesterday just to get an idea of where the boat ramps/put-ins and take-outs are and to see what the conditions were. I booked five days on the Blackfoot and hope to book more so it's worth doing the recon.
Starting at the confluence of the Clark Fork, the Blackfoot was off and pretty high. I drove up Jonsrud and was hoping to do a little fishing but it just wasn't going to happen. I drove all the way up Sunset Hill road to Clearwater Junction and still, it was off. I drove past the North Fork Crossing and even made it all the way to Cedar Meadow but the river was still up and the color was off.
I went back out to HWY 200 and turned toward Lincoln. The further up-stream, the better the water looked and by the time I got to Keep Cool Creek, the water had cleared up and I decided to jump in and fish. There are plenty of bends with sweepers to fish and I figured with how good the fishing was above Lincoln recently, I should get some action. I wasn't expecting this kind of action though.
This time of year is mostly streamer fishing on the Blackfoot and if you get the right color and swing them deep enough into the pools and along logs, you will find fish. I rigged my rod, wadered up and stepped in. My first move was to cross the river and head up stream to a pile of logs with some deep pools sweeping underneath. The stream isn't too big near Lincoln and right now, crossing back and forth isn't too bad as long as you pick your spots--that is for a dude 6'1".
Chase always wants to be a part of the action so he follows close. I crossed the river and headed up-stream. When I got to the log-jam, I climbed over one of the logs and waded back out into the river fishing toward the other bank. Chase climbed up the logs to get a better vantage point and when he couldn't find a comfortable spot to see, he jumped in to cross to the other side, just up-stream from a big sweeper with some gnarly hangers.
I heard Chase jump in and looked back to see him way over his head. He's an incredibly strong swimmer but the current was way too swift and he was quickly being pulled into the log pile. He looked up at me and I yelled to him to get back to the other bank. By the time he turned back it was too late and he was pulled into a nook between a cottonwood that was pointing slightly up-stream and a couple hangers.
Standing in three feet of water myself and about 60 feet from the pile, my first reaction was to throw my rod to the bank and rip off my pack. I looked at Chase and saw him fighting hard to climb up on the cottonwood. He bobbed once, then twice, and then a third time only then, he didn't come back up--he was under the logs.
I ran down the bank thinking about how I was going to go in after him. I had a net hanging from my wading belt and I knew jumping in with waders would be disastrous. I've slipped into pools before that weren't nearly as deep or as swift and it wasn't good. Adrenaline hit me; fear for Chase, fear for me, and a realization that my best buddy was surely gone had already put a pit in my stomach as preparation for the worst.
Ten seconds past, then fifteen and thirty--it seemed like so long and as I worked my waders off I glanced back up just hoping to see him pop up...I started yelling at him, "Come on Chase! Get out of there!"
Chase did pop up just down-stream from the first big cottonwood in the eddy it had created and climbed up onto the logs. His mouth was wide open, lips curled as wide open as he could making it look like he was smiling and he was shaking uncontrollably. He sneezed and coughed and then breathed heavily while balancing on the branches of one of the sweepers. He looked back at me and I could see the fear in him. It's the first time I've even seen that in him.
"You're ok, you're ok Chase!" I said trying to keep calm wanting him to catch his breath before I figured out our next move.
There was a good eddy he could swim through to get back across the river with no current he'd have to fight until he was well away from any more logs. After a few minutes of catching his breath--catching my breath--I called him back over to my side of the river. Reluctantly, Chase eased back into the river and swam across. After doing his normal, running up the bank far away from anyone to shake off, I grabbed him and hugged him.
He had to swim the river one more time to get back to the truck. He was hesitant but he did it. Today he is very tired and has slept pretty much non-stop for 18 hours but he is fine. I can't tell you how bad it would suck to lose him.
Keep 'em where they live.
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