Our Turn to Fish: Noël and Jaime in Montana

Since 1999, a committed, talented and seldom seen team has been at the heart of Fly Water Travel. We call them Travel Coordinators, and they’re the folks who put all the pieces of our guests’ trips together. They arrange transfers, fine tune itineraries, catch mistakes, reconcile financials, work through endless logistical challenges, and envision your journey from start to finish to optimize the experience. When travel throws a wrench in the plans, they’re there with a calm voice and a helping hand to put things right.

Much of their work happens behind the scenes, but we see the care and countless hours they put into making our guests’ trips happen. They are quite simply the lifeblood of Fly Water Travel. Without them, none of the magic happens.

Recently, we sent two of these intrepid colleagues, Noël Nelson and Jaime Kolstad, to North Fork Crossing Lodge, one of our favorite destinations in Montana for a trip of their own. It was a chance to thank them for all their hard work and let them experience firsthand the joy they make possible for others.

Noël spends her workdays putting together trips to Africa, Argentina, British Columbia, Chile, Guatemala, India and Mongolia. Her experience in fly fishing travel is vast, but her own days on the water are just getting started. After some casting sessions in the office parking lot, she was ready to give the Blackfoot a try, with a little nervousness and plenty of enthusiasm. We’ll let her take it from here.

In Noël’s Words

After breakfast, we piled into the truck with Joel, our North Fork Crossing Lodge guide, and headed for the launch on the middle section of the famed Blackfoot River, not far from the lodge.

Fog blanketed the road, and we could barely make out the surrounding prairie and trees as we drove. The ride felt a little like a first date. I was excited, curious and open to learning, but also nervous about being judged for how little I knew about fly fishing.

We’d briefly met Joel the night before, but I hadn’t gotten a read on him yet. How does this sort of thing go? Would we mesh? What was his teaching style? Would I be receptive to instruction, or would I shut down the first time I failed?

Not quite sure what to talk about, we bounced questions back and forth to break the ice. And, in true me fashion, I wasted little time letting Joel know exactly how inexperienced I was. I was 100 percent open to whatever instruction he had for me, I told him, and he shouldn’t be shy about critiquing me.

By the time we reached the river around 9 a.m., I was feeling a little more comfortable. There wasn’t another boat or person in sight, and with the bugs back after the previous day’s rain, we were eager to get started.

Bundled in our lightweight puffy jackets, I settled into the front of the raft and Jaime took the back. We pushed off, and it was time to cast.

All that practicing I’d done in the back parking lot of the office suddenly felt very different. Now I was casting from a drifting boat into moving water, with cold fingers and someone watching. After a few decent casts and plenty of ugly ones, though, my fly was finally in the water. I was fly fishing!

Just 30 minutes into our float, with a few reminders from Joel about my form, I hooked and landed my first fish on a fly rod: a small, adorable rainbow trout. I was stoked. Part of me dismissed it as beginner’s luck, but I didn’t care. We released the little guy, and I went right back to casting, floating, mending and hoping for another chance.

I didn’t have to wait long. Another eat, and my Plan B fly disappeared beneath the surface. Joel coached me while I tried desperately to remember everything I was supposed to be doing. Keep the line tight. Strip. Let the fish take line when it needs to. Reel when you can.

There was so much to remember, and somehow I was supposed to do it all with a fish attached to the other end of my line. But with Joel’s help, I got it to the boat: a beautiful, healthy cutthroat. This one deserved a picture.

After a few photos, I slipped it back into the cold water and watched it disappear. Then Joel did something unexpected. He cut the fly from my line and handed it to me as a keepsake. I tucked it into my hat.

Less than an hour into the day, I’d caught two fish and was beginning to understand why people become completely obsessed with this sport. I wanted to keep fishing.

We continued downstream, stopping at productive stretches where I could practice. We still hadn’t seen another boat when we reached Munch More, a stretch of riffled water with a faster current. By now, my casting had improved, setting the hook was becoming more instinctive, and I needed fewer reminders from Joel.

At the bottom of the riffle, a seam of foam slid across the current. Even I could see fish feeding beneath it. Joel had Jaime fishing a nymph from the back of the raft while I worked a hopper from the front. We made a pass through the run, then circled back and tried again.

Suddenly, the skills I thought I was starting to understand seemed to fall apart in the faster water. My presentation was off. Jaime hooked a fish, brought it in, and we admired the little buddy before sending it home.

There were clearly fish here. We could see them eating, we had the run to ourselves, and now I wanted one.

Jaime continued catching fish with her nymph while I floundered with my hopper. Cast after unsuccessful cast, I could feel my confidence slipping. Then came the reminders I had specifically asked Joel to give me.

“Mend!”

“Strip!”

“Mend!”

Those helpful reminders were starting to feel a whole lot more like orders. I was flustered, getting physically warm and determined to figure this out. I set down my rod, peeled off my jacket and threw my hair back.

Okay. Go time.

We made another pass, then another. I started saying “cast, mend, strip” out loud, almost in tandem with Joel, trying to keep up with the current and get my fly where it needed to be.

And then, finally, I got one.

I forgot how frustrated I’d been. I was starting to get a feel for what Joel had been asking me to do, and I couldn’t wait to try it again.

By the time we anchored at Munch More for lunch, I was exhausted, hungry and ridiculously happy. We ate and relived the morning’s catches and missed chances. I’d found out that Joel could coach me through a fish, that I could get flustered and recover, and that a few ugly casts weren’t going to ruin my day.

I was a lot less worried about doing everything wrong than I’d been in the truck that morning. And we still had half a day of fishing ahead of us.

Sharing the raft with Noël was Jaime Kolstad, who looks after our guests’ trips to Brazil, Bolivia, Colombia and Costa Rica, as well as the Pacific Northwest, Rockies and Bahamas. This was Jaime’s first fly fishing lodge trip, and she’d arrived with some nerves of her own. By the end of that first day, she had a fish story none of us saw coming.

In Jaime’s Words

Heading on my very first fly fishing lodge trip, I’ll admit I was intimidated. But the moment we got out of the car, every bit of hesitation vanished. We were greeted with the warmest welcome, friendly guides and a breathtaking view of the property.

Our first day on the river was mind blowing, with nonstop action. We caught everything from spunky little rainbow trout measuring just five inches to chunky cutthroats, and by the afternoon, we were all buzzing with excitement.

Right before we reached the takeout, Joel was telling a story. I had a small rainbow on the line and wasn’t paying much attention until he suddenly shouted, asking if we saw what was happening. Confused, Noël and I looked over just as a massive bull trout clamped onto my little rainbow like a dog with a bone.

Instantly, my heart was pounding, my eyes went wide, and the Fireball shot we’d taken earlier kicked right in. With Joel calmly coaching me, I gently brought the fish closer. Just as the net dipped under the fish, it let go of the little trout. The fact that I had landed this beautiful fish without ever hooking it blew my mind. We quickly flipped the net upside down and as the magnificent bull trout peacefully swam away, we celebrated this amazing encounter. Not a bad way to wrap up day one!

Over the next two days, we fished different insect hatches, had more aggressive eats and got to spend time with new guides who quickly felt like old friends. While walk and wade fishing was an option, we chose to float all three days. After that first day, neither of us needed much convincing!

North Fork Crossing Lodge

Between Noël’s first fish on a fly rod and Jaime’s bull trout encounter, there was plenty to talk about back at camp. But both returned back home to Ashland talking just as much about the place itself and the amazing people who looked after them.

Over three days of floating, they passed rugged cliffs and towering pines, open meadows where elk graze and cattle call in the distance, and sweeping sandstone walls along the riverbank. There were long stretches without another boat in sight, a welcome change of pace for two people whose workdays are usually spent juggling the details of other people’s travels.

Set on 200 acres along the North Fork of the Blackfoot River, with multiple private ponds, North Fork Crossing gave them plenty to enjoy back at the lodge, too. The canvas wall tents had the warmth, space and comfort of a traditional lodge room. Jaime was particularly pleased with the bathrooms. As she put it, “As a woman who prefers comfort over ‘rustic,’ this was crucial!” Each tent’s wooden restroom sits within 150 feet and has a heater, fan and hot shower.

Evenings meant incredible meals, wine and plenty of laughter as they traded fishing stories, then time around the fire pit before heading to bed. The warm welcome that put Jaime at ease on arrival carried through the whole stay, and guides who were strangers at the start of the trip soon felt like friends.

North Fork Crossing is operated by Pro Outfitters, who also run float trips over several days down Montana’s Smith River. Their guides lead the floats and set up camp each night along the 61 miles between the launch and takeout. After being so well looked after at North Fork Crossing, we’re excited to report that Jaime and Noël already have their eyes on another trip!