To Hell in a Handbasket

Summer road trip interrupted: What happens when your summer road trip temperatures get so hot that the rivers shut down?

Words and photos by Kyle Toyama

 

I love seeing fish eat mayflies.

It’s nature in its pure form. It requires cold, clear, oxygen-rich water, free from pollution. Living in Utah I have become accustomed to hot, smoky summers and low water. I often wonder how long it will be possible for the environment to sustain the population here, then to escape these thoughts I go for a drive and walk along a cold, clear trout stream.  

Unlike the human populations the inhabitants of the rivers don’t have much of a voice. This year has highlighted that some of our recreational fisheries are in distress: steelhead runs are lower than ever in the Northwest, red tide-related fish kills in the Everglades, another summer of high temperature and low-flow closures across Montana, and concerns about deepening drought, fish kills and toxic algae blooms right here in Utah. These impacts are all thought to be related to changes in our global climate. Add to this the crowds that were pushed into the outdoors due to a global pandemic and you have the continuation of a tragedy of the commons. Oppressive heat, little water, and large crowds are not ideal conditions for fly fishing but that’s what we were given this year. While these issues seem far away to many, they hit home for me as the impacts began to affect the rivers I frequent and my summer plans. To add to it all, this July was one of the hottest on record in Utah, making some of the famous rivers to the north more appealing than ever.

For the last few years my friends and I have planned trips to hallowed waters of the west. Each summer we have made a point to meet in Idaho and Montana to spend time together fishing. Our trips the last couple of years have been a drive along Highway 20, camping and fishing for picky fish on dry flies. Traveling this route guarantees challenge, heartbreak, and memorable experiences.

Part of what makes these adventures, is the anticipation and planning that takes place prior to the trip, looking at maps, plotting routes, looking for public access, and thinking about the endless possibilities. As spring turned to summer and our plans began to solidify, we started checking on streamflow and water temperatures (where available) of our chosen rivers. These factors are important to the hatches and the fish that rise to them. This summer, however, the signs were not good. I love trout and the waters they live in, I understand that my choices have consequences. Landing a fish in warm water can cause harm and death, something I wish to avoid. My friends and I agonized over the weather patterns and the water conditions which led to daily conversations rationalizing for and against our fly fishing road trip and what these warm conditions might mean for our overall experience. In the end, we decided to drive Highway 20 - but with the utmost intention of putting our fisheries and nature first. We monitored the river temperatures and ultimately changed our route and our plans seeking cold water and more hospitable conditions for the fish we were targeting. Here’s a little insight into our trip and the reasoning behind each decision made:


First Stop:
Silver Creek

 
 

Silver Creek is one of the purest definitions of a spring creek anywhere, a place where the magic of hatches brings great fish to its shimmering, placid surface and *in the absence* of a hatch is a kind of glassy wasteland, either way a sight to behold. With the 10 day forecast looking searingly hot, we decided we didn’t want to go to Silver Creek knowing that we could be putting undue stress on any fish that we might be lucky enough to encounter. It was a disappointing and heartbreaking decision only made easier by the fact that 3 days after we decided not to go, the Nature Conservancy citing low flows and high temperatures closed the conservancy section of Silver Creek to fishing. While disappointing for many, I thought it a courageous act for an organization to make an unpopular decision and side with nature by giving it a break!

A snapshot of the USGS Gauge 13150430 temperatures below the Nature Conservancy closure between June 21st, 2021 and August 1st, 2021. The stress line indicates the water temperature at which trout are experiencing stressed living conditions, typically around 68 degrees Fahrenheit for Brown and Rainbow trout. Graph created by Dr. Allison Oliver.


Second Stop: Henry’s Fork

  • Limited to morning fishing - a self-imposed hoot owl (Idaho did not close any waters)

  •  Planned to fish July 5th to July 28th, with multiple day trips to the Madison

  • Monitored morning and evening temperatures and was focusing fishing efforts between 8am to 11am most days. Let the thermometer tell us when to get out. 

  • Early in the trip, we had water temperature readings around 62°F degrees at 8am. We’d see the temperatures rise to 66°F by noon; By 7pm it was 68°F or 70°F.

  • Later in the trip, we were seeing water temperatures starting at 62°F and rising to 66°F by noon due to slightly cooler overnight air temperatures. 

  • No USGS temp gauge for reference but Henry's Fork Foundation data at various locations is available here.

 
 

Our trip began in earnest as we made our way to the Henry's Fork, the heat was notable. My dog Hachi and I along with our friends, Sam, Kate, AB, and Margot arrived in Island Park to the expected scene of trucks pulling drift boats and guides clad in colorful protective sun gear. Given everything going on in the world, it felt alright, even normal. Each morning while it was still cool, Hachi and I would walk the river with a cup of coffee. By the time we returned for our second cup at the house we would strip off nearly all of our layers and get ready to go fishing. As in years past, we would go find a likely spot to observe rising fish and get the crew situated. But, instead of a toast to the river with a fine whiskey, we began each session taking the water temperature. It was often a relief psychologically to know the water temperature was in the low 60’s. This made you feel cooler than the reality of the air temperature sometimes. Most days in early July we found the water to be around 62°F degrees between 8-9am but would feel the water rise rapidly 4-5°F by 10:30am or noon. Most days we would take this as a sign to get out of the water and often comment on how the water no longer had that little bit of a “bite” that you expect from cold water. I was struck with a sense of melancholy. The river was suffering.

A snapshot of the Henry’s Fork river temperatures at St. Anthony’s between June 21st, 2021 and August 1st, 2021. Graph created by Dr. Allison Oliver.

Most evenings we would head out to tailgate, take our now ritualistic water temperatures, and then make an educated decision about whether we should or should not fish. We wanted to fish but found ourselves in tension knowing the water temperatures would likely not have improved since the time we got out that morning. This tension was also being driven by the fact that our trip was finite and we had driven a long way to be here, a sentiment shared by all who are lucky enough to travel to fish famous waters. Some nights we fished, telling ourselves we would fight fish hard (on 5x and quickly release them). Some nights we just watched the last light leave the horizon over the ridge. Most nights as the spinners began their dance, the river became intoxicating as big heads started to break the surface to take the helpless insects.


Last stop: Madison River

  •    Cancelled due to high water temperatures pulled by a friend, Bryan Gregson.

  • July 15th- planned to hit the Madison

  • Occuring as Montana imposes hoot owl on major fisheries across the state

 
 

In the middle of the road trip we wanted to go on an excursion over to the Madison River for evening caddis or midday PMDs.  As we got more serious about this plan I reached out to a friend, Bryan Gregson who was fishing over that way and received a report: “The water over here is hot!” The Madison is a unique river that starts out as spring fed then moves into multiple tailwater sections that comes off the Yellowstone caldera at near 8,000 feet which usually keeps it relatively cool all summer long. The Madison ultimately ended up going into hoot owl under Montana Fish, Wildlife and Parks orders starting on June 21st as water temperatures continued to rise along with traffic on the rivers. “Hoot owl” means that fishing is allowed in the morning but closed from 2 p.m. to midnight each day. However, some areas are under full closure, which prohibits fishing all day and all night. These restrictions are put in place to protect fish when conditions have diminished due to increased water temperatures which leads to low oxygen content for the fish. Hoot owl restrictionns will stay in effect until conditions improve. 

We have witnessed a summer of exceptional heat creating unusual conditions across most of North America. There were many unprecedented closures on famous waters and for some it makes us question the future viability of the sport and the industry.  Fears have become reality as more and more communities across the West are impacted in terms of recreational and economic opportunity.

Graph of Madison River at USGS Gauge 06038800 from June 21,2021 to August 1, 2021. Graph by Dr. Allison Oliver.

Perhaps we are all becoming more aware since more people are out there seeing and experiencing these impacts firsthand. Perhaps when it impacts our recreational/days off in a pandemic it hits harder. I can’t say for certain but it was a summer to remember and hopefully we can make some steps to avoid having this become our new reality. While the closures this year are having negative financial impacts on some who derive their incomes from the resources, it seems a good opportunity to take stock and think about what it means, what nature is telling us, and how we can push for meaningful change on behalf of the resources that sustain us. Contributing to Science on the Fly’s mission through continuous water samples and making a point to check a water temperature reading anytime I am near the river are some ways to start thinking about my impact. It’s unclear how much of an impact we can make with our decisions but what I have seen in my life outdoors is that nature is resilient and if we can just get out of her way, she will continue on.

On a more positive note,
the conversations are starting.

In fly shops across the west, advocates for the waters we share and love are discussing their experiences of this summer and the undeniable heatwave. New faces, brought to these waters as virus refugees are being recruited into the fight. We have a united message, a common goal. Our fisheries need us. I am grateful to the people who continue to put nature first, ahead of popular or easy. Difficult decisions were made this summer, for me personally and many others. I think it was a good thing.

Sharing your fly fishing stories and how they have been interrupted due to the change in climate is another way to make an impact. We’d love for you to submit your climate-related fishing or river story by emailing allie@scienceonthefly.org.

 
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