Reflections on a Weekend Fly Fishing Among Women (Part 1)

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• Note: This is the third in a three-part series on a women's fly fishing clinic that took place in April of 2024 on the Upper Missouri River. Need to catch up? Read part one and part two.  

  Why Fly Fishing?

  Over the course of preparing to write this article on the women’s fly fishing clinic, I had the chance to interview several of the individuals involved to hear about their experiences with the clinic and beyond. There was one question I asked all of them: “Why fly fishing?” I found their answers inspiring, so I decided to share them below:

  The co-founder of Wolf Creek Angler and a dedicated fly fisherman, Jason’s immediate response was “Is there anything else?” While he doesn’t begrudge other anglers their fun with conventional gear, for Jason there is only fly fishing. “I love the artistry of the sport and the soul stirring fulfillment I get out of my hours spent in solitude with a fly rod in hand.” As for the guiding, starting a fly shop, running skills clinics, and supporting projects like Mending Waters (a program dedicated to helping veterans and active military personnel find healing through fly fishing)… He loves giving others the chance to find that love for themselves.

  

  Drifting the Missouri on a gorgeous afternoon. 

  Shalon had to pause and think for a moment. “That’s a good question. I’m not sure I know the answer. I really like the intricacies of it. I’ve developed an addiction to flies… I love looking at the patterns and I love doing seines.” Seine, in this context, refers to a small, fine-meshed net that is used to capture a sampling of aquatic insects in a river or stream—a handy tool if you’re unsure which fly to use. In the end, though, it’s really the whole package for Shalon. The romance. The challenge of wrangling a fish or working on her cast. “I’m always learning something new,” she remarked over the phone, and there’s something deeply beautiful in that. As for attending the clinic—surrounded by a group of boisterous, supportive, adventure-hungry women—Shalon admitted that, “It’s one of the more meaningful trips I do all year… And that’s worth something.”

  Madeleine, who spent much of her life hopping across the central and eastern United States, is often too busy catering to fly fishermen when the weather’s good to do much of it herself. She stumbled upon the job posting at Hidden Canyon Lodge by chance back when it was first opening. She landed an interview. The interview led to a cooking demonstration… “And I was moving to Montana.” Since then, she’s gotten to embrace her passion for cooking while working alongside stellar people in a truly scenic part of the state.

  The job comes with its share of challenges—power outages, septic issues, boulders falling on propane tanks from the looming cliffs above… These all come part and parcel with working in a remote river canyon, but so do the grand views, the constant susurrus of the river, and the opportunity for solitude. “Living by myself in winter… It puts you strangely in tune with things. I can step outside and know whether a rustle is a bobcat or a bear.” Madi hopes to do more fly fishing in the future and sees events such as this clinic as a turning point for the industry. “Men, when they’re new to the sport, there’s more of an aggressive attitude,” she reflected—and I could hear her smile through the phone. “Women don’t use their strength as much. I think they’ve got more natural finesse when learning to cast.”

  

  Cat Joyner fights a trout on her Craig Fly Rod. 

  Finally, I asked my mom (Cay Joyner), wondering if her fourth outing with this group of women has had any impacts on the way she sees fly fishing.

  She came to fly fishing later in life, largely through meeting and falling in love with my stepdad, Scott. “I always thought it was beautiful to watch a truly gifted fly fisherman cast a dry on a still summer day during a hatch,” she remarked. Stepping into the sport late was intimidating. She was surrounded by skilled fishermen—all men eager to help—and it was a struggle at times to relax into the process of learning. “I think the people who are teaching you to fish always want to see you catch fish…” Which doesn’t always lend itself to patience.

  Though she picked up a lot of her skills prior, the women’s clinic gave her the confidence she’d lacked in rigging her own rod, picking her own flies, and reading the water. Now, she actively seeks time on the river, whether it be among friends and family or by herself. “Fly fishing has… provided me with another way to connect with God. Call it what you want—a connection to nature, the universe, the spiritual world, a sense of something greater than yourself. The sound of the river, the sight of the landscape around me, the color of the fish… Each new fishing experience is an opportunity to find a new connection to that side of us that longs to be connected to something better and greater.”

  

  Morning at the Mid Canon Fly Fishing Access along the Missouri River. 

  When I try answering this question for myself, it feels like it might just be another iteration of what’s been said above. To some, fly fishing might just be one more way people have found to exist in the outdoors. But the more I learn about the sport, the more I have to admit that there’s something special to it.

  Maybe it’s like Shalon said—the romance of standing in a river, a single human being surrounded by the power of rushing water. The improbability of existing in a great big universe that you’ve somehow been lucky enough to find a tiny little nook to fish in. Maybe it’s the joy of constant discovery. Of honing old skills and seeking out new ones. Maybe it’s whooping across the river in spite of the glares from other passing fishermen because your new friend has just caught her first or second or twentieth trout.

  Or maybe it’s the literal connection of your line to something living, wriggling, fighting. Probably, it’s all of that and more.

  

  Hannah Dreesbach presenting a rainbow trout caught on a Warm Springs fly rod. 

  ...

  A final shout out to the organizers, partners, and guides who made this clinic possible: 

  Thank you to the staff at Hidden Canyon Lodge, who constantly worked behind the scenes to provide us with delicious food, pristine rooms, and friendly customer service. Thank you to our guides for sharing your endless patience, knowledge, and passion for fly fishing. And thank you to Jason, for your behind-the-scenes dedication in organizing this event. All of these wonderful people have found ways to embrace their love of fly fishing while also sharing that passion with others—check out their businesses below!

  • Jason Orzechowski – Owner of Iron Fly Outfitting, co-founder of Wolf Creek Angler Fly Shop
  • Madeliene Cantoni – Executive Chef and Manager at Hidden Canyon Lodge
  • Shalon Hastings – Owner of Fly FisHer Adventures and founder of Last Chance Fly Gals
  • Kara Tripp – Co-founder of Damsel Fly Fishing
  • Libby Stultz – Co-founder of Bent Fly Fishing
  • Luke Koerten – Guide for Iron Fly Outfitting

  Questions? Comments? Fly fishing stories? Share them in the comments section below! 

  Reflections on a Weekend Fly Fishing Among Women (Part 3)

  May 30, 2024

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• Note: This is the second in a three-part series on a women's fly fishing clinic that took place in April of 2024 on the Upper Missouri River. Need to catch up? Read part one. 

  Saturday: Fishing through the Rain

  Women have become an increasingly important demographic in the world of fly fishing. With more and more women showing interest in the sport, it’s no surprise that businesses have started catering to them. Women-specific clothing, gear, and skills clinics have been on the rise. Shalon, Jason, and even Kara—who runs Damsel Fly Fishing with her sister, Lynae Axelson—have all jumped on the bandwagon… And that’s opened up a plethora of new opportunities for women in the area looking to get into fly fishing.

  Business ventures aside, their main goal leading up to and during the clinic has always been to provide a safe and welcoming space for participants to learn in. When I asked him what he hoped participants would take away from the clinic, Jason remarked that, “While we are, of course, focused on teaching the basics of fly fishing—tackle, entomology, casting, knots, etc.—what we’re really hoping for is an experience that is student-driven.” He also pointed to the bonds formed between participants and guides as an important aspect of the experience, believing such relationships lay the groundwork for future events and experiences tailored to participant needs.

  …

  Saturday, the first official day of fly fishing, was a prime example of how those relationships have molded and enriched the clinic over the years. With many of the participants coming back from the previous year(s), the guides decided to move away from more classroom-style teaching and spend as much time as possible on the water giving one-on-one instruction.

  The morning presented a gloomy canvas: low clouds shrouding the green hills and craggy canyon walls along the river. The Missouri loped by the Craig boat launch in currents of steely grey and the rain began almost as soon as my mom and I stepped into the drift boat.

  

  "Drying off" under the shelter of a bridge. 

  Our guide for the day was Kara. Quick, confident, and full of stories, she’s a hoot to be on the water with—and an excellent instructor. Despite the positive presence, however, I felt myself slipping back into a place of anxiety. My fingers, already stiff from the rain, fumbled with the line as I tried to remember the motions of casting, mending, and setting the hook. I’d done this before, hadn’t I? Shouldn’t I at least be passable at it?

  Five or six missed strikes later, I felt the familiar frustration of being a beginner. The rain hadn’t let up. My mom had caught several nice trout, but I knew she wanted more than anything to see me experience the thrill of catching fish… In that moment, I was sorely tempted to wallow in self-pity.

  But it dawned on me then; it’s not every day I get to be on the Upper Missouri—a land rife with dramatic scenery and wildlife. More importantly, it’s not every day I get to go fly fishing with my mom. I’d come to this clinic hoping to approach fly fishing with a different perspective and now was the time to put that into practice. So, I did. I practiced my cast. I practiced being there in the moment. I practiced fly fishing the entire day, and by the time we reached our take-out at the Mid-Canon Fishing Access, soaked and shivering, I’d caught a Missouri River Grand Slam (that’s at least one brown trout, rainbow trout, and whitefish, for those of you who are unfamiliar with the term). The best part? I’d had fun doing it.

  

  Guide Kara Tripp and participant Cat Joyner laughing in the drift boat... You had to be there.

  That night, the lodge was alive with talk of all the fish that were caught. One participant hadn’t fished in forty years. That morning, she’d been nervous about picking up a rod and getting in a drift boat. Now, she sat by the fire with a mug of tea, her face split in a broad smile— “I’m so excited to get back in that boat!” There was something deeply infectious about her enthusiasm.

  Sunday: Queens of the River

  The last day started with sunshine and comradery. Rigging up our rods outside the lodge, I struck up a conversation with one of the other participants. It was her second year in attendance at this specific event, but she’s been to other women’s fly fishing clinics as well and attends a fly tying club back home. When I asked what the biggest takeaway from these experiences has been, she only had to think for a moment. “Community.”

  I chatted with a few of the other women throughout the morning, curious about their takes on the clinic. One participant pointed to the food as the highlight of the weekend—only half joking. I approached another, the older woman who was so excited to get back in the boat the day before, intending to ask her what it’s been like to fly fish again after so long. Instead, we spent a good fifteen minutes talking about some of the long-distance hikes we’d done across the pond in Europe. I couldn’t help but smile. Community indeed.

  …

  My mom and I fished with Libby. Though there was hardly a rain cloud in sight, the day promised to be a windy one—the occasional gust through the canyon set my rig into knots more than once. Between Kara’s aid the day before and Libby’s own brand of easy-going, practical approach to instruction, I started to find a groove. Before lunch, I’d managed to double the number of fish I’d caught the day before—and it was a blast.

  

  Rainbow trout, brown trout, and white fish abounded.

  The guides kept the drift boats closer together for the last day. Though we were all focused on fly fishing, it also quickly became clear that this was not a group that shied away from being loud and energetic. Every so often, a wave of hoots and hollers announced that it was “Fish on!” in at least one of the boats. Fly fishing can sometimes be a window into the silence and solitude only nature can offer. That day, however, it was about reveling in the pure joy of wrangling fish in good company. In that moment, we were all queens of the river—and nothing could dampen our spirits.

  

  Queens of the river.

  This women’s fly fishing clinic began as a way for women to find their confidence in the basic skills of fly fishing. After four years, it’s turned into a community of anglers who find mutual support and comradery in one another. “We want to continue to bring all of you in as a group of fishing friends and to continue to help you all further develop and hone your skills…” Jason told me later, adding that, “we’re also anxious to bring in new groups of beginners and start the process all over again.”

  For my part, I walked away with a newfound desire to spend more time on the river. The women’s clinic had shown me a group of anglers of all different skill levels who all engaged with the sport in different ways. Some were there to hone their skills and feel more confident fishing by themselves. Some were there because they wanted to spend a weekend fly fishing with a fun group of people. Some were there because they hadn’t touched a rod in years and wanted to give it another go. For a long time, I’ve avoided fly fishing because I felt I guilty that I didn’t love the sport as much—or perhaps in the same way—as the avid anglers all around me. I realize now that I might’ve been missing the point.

  ...

  We'll be dropping part three of this three-part series next week, so stay tuned! In the meantime, a shout out to the organizers, partners, and guides who made this clinic possible:

  Thank you to the staff at Hidden Canyon Lodge, who constantly worked behind the scenes to provide us with delicious food, pristine rooms, and friendly customer service. Thank you to our guides for sharing your endless patience, knowledge, and passion for fly fishing. And thank you to Jason, for your behind-the-scenes dedication in organizing this event. All of these wonderful people have found ways to embrace their love of fly fishing while also sharing that passion with others—check out their businesses below!

  • Jason Orzechowski – Owner of Iron Fly Outfitting, co-founder of Wolf Creek Angler Fly Shop
  • Madeliene Cantoni – Executive Chef and Manager at Hidden Canyon Lodge
  • Shalon Hastings – Owner of Fly FisHer Adventures and founder of Last Chance Fly Gals
  • Kara Tripp – Co-founder of Damsel Fly Fishing
  • Libby Stultz – Co-founder of Bent Fly Fishing
  • Luke Koerten – Guide for Iron Fly Outfitting

  Questions? Comments? Fly fishing stories? Share them in the comments section below! 

  Reflections on a Weekend Fly Fishing Among Women (Part 2)

  May 23, 2024

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• The Little Brookie that Flew - A Fly Fishing Story by Hannah Dreesbach

  I was in elementary school when my father first put a fly rod in my hand. We were in the Tizer Basin, walking a small, tumbling stream pock-marked by boulders. It was the sort of place that would leave any kid itching to explore. Fallen logs became bridges across deep holes. Crowded fir trees created pockets of shadow that hid lichen-covered stones and half-decayed stumps. I could have spent the entire day roaming the woods, inventing games beneath the shade of the trees. But my dad had brought me there to fish, and so I resigned myself to the tedious task of casting a bright little dry into the water over and over again.

  I didn't think much about line placement or where the fish might actually be, even though I’m sure my dad offered wisdom on both of these subjects. For the most part, I tried to copy his movements (after all, he was actually catching fish). More often than not, I wound up with my line wrapped around an overhanging willow or snagged on a limb. The day, it seemed, was destined to be frustratingly fishless.

  I suppose Mother Nature took pity on me: between snags, I managed to hook a single brookie—so small I didn't even feel it on the end of my line. When I went to recast, it sailed out of the water, past my head, and back in—unhooking itself in the process. I let out a shout. I’d caught a fish! I was a real fly fisherman, just like my dad.

  It was a small moment in the scheme of things, but looking back, years later, I can’t help but smile. These days, I look forward to afternoons on the water, fly rod in hand, exploring the twists and turns of the river. I have my dad to thank for that. My dad and one tiny, miraculous brookie.

  

  Hannah Dreesbach enjoys a quiet moment before a day of fly fishing. 

  Questions? Comments? A story of your own first time on the water? Share in the comments below!

  Getting Hooked on Fly Fishing

  April 24, 2024

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• Fly Fisherman Magazine is featuring Montana Casting Co. and our Warm Springs Fly Rod in its April-May 2024 Issue!

  Fly Fisherman loves gear with a story behind it, and Montana Casting Co. has that in spades. The article highlights our strengths as a home-grown, family-owned fly rod company as well as the heartfelt story of loss and healing that brought company founders Scott and Cat Joyner to where they are today.

  Fly Fisherman called special attention to the Warm Springs fly rod. After testing it on a Pennsylvania spring creek, they referenced the “gritty” capabilities of the Warm Springs, deeming it ready for “almost anywhere you can find blue-collar trout, from big rivers to small streams in the mountains.”

  The Warm Springs Fly Rod is our flagship fly rod. Designed by Scott Joyner in its entirety—from blank to guide placements, right down to the reel seat components—it balances performance with durability in one classy fish-wrangling package. Visit the Warm Springs product page to learn more about these performance fly rods.

  You can sign up for a Fly Fisherman Magazine subscription to read the article online or look for the April-May 2024 issue in stores now!

  We’re celebrating this milestone with 15% off all of our fly rods. Looking to pair your new rod with a fly fishing reel? We’ll give you 15% off the entire outfit when you use our Outfit Builder.

   

  Fly Fisherman Magazine is Featuring Montana Casting Co.

  March 20, 2024

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