Esox Lucius - The Search for a 40" Montana River Pike

Words by Joseph Evans, a.k.a @Idaaflyy.

At the time Joseph wrote this, he had graduated from the University of Montana in Missoula, and is currently a fly fishing guide and video creator "living in a trailer down by the river" in Idaho. 

When most people think of a Missoula, Montana they think of it as a black sheep compared to other Montana towns. It’s known as the town filled with University of Montana Griz fans, Craft IPA’s, organic everything, bearded fly fishing guides, and rivers filled with trout eating big stoneflies.

It’s the Portland of Montana. ‘’Keep Missoula Weird” as they say.

It was May of my senior year of high school and I had no idea where I wanted to go to college.  I was behind and I was procrastinating but after some research and visiting schools on both sides of the country I couldn’t leave the west.  As a result, I committed to the University of Montana in Missoula to further my trout fishing education. All I thought about was fishing blue-ribbon streams for cutthroat, browns, and rainbow trout. I envisioned big boulder eddy’s, gin-clear water, and stonefly hatches while fishing from the raggedy drift boat I purchased.

It was the first investment I made after getting my dorm room supplies. It’s a well used 2003 RO skiff but it has a solid hull, 3 seats, and drafts in really shallow water.  It had everything I needed and it was all that I could afford. I taught myself how to row it down technical, low water boulder fields throughout the first summer.  It’s what allowed me to explore new places and water in Montana.  Eventually it lead me to the lower reaches of many of the Missoula area rivers and Montana’s river Esox, aka Northern Pike.

Northern pike roam the waters of northern Montana and other nearby states along the border of Canada. They can be found in both stillwater and larger rivers. People often call them “slime rockets” or “water wolves,” for their long and toothy look, extreme speed and ferociousness. The literal meaning of the fish’s Latin name is Esox lucius which means… I have no idea but it sounds really cool.

I was on a float with my friend Bryce Hasquet, a fishy student attending school in Butte, Montana. His Instagram page is filled with fish of all species and he keeps the locals on their heels. He drove into town to visit family and we decided to link up to go run a low and popular section of the Bitterroot river in search of late-summer trout on streamers, hoppers and tricos. We floated the entire section with only a few takes from nippy trout at first light. By noon, the hot, September sun was high and we had reached the slower section where most anglers and guides push through when they’re finished casting for trout.

Bryce said there was some pike around, even some in the 40” class. For reference, a 40” pike is generally in about the 20lb range.

So with little energy left, we kept an eye out. At the first bend, we came to a deep hole with a sunken tree. It was not a slough or a tail out, just a large pool with stagnant water. Pike were everywhere. After spotting many fish “laid up;” meaning they are not cruising or swimming, but holding still in one spot, stationary, we backed off and regrouped. We replaced our 8-foot tapered leader with 5 feet of straight 30-pound fluorocarbon. Then, we switched out our 3-inch trout streamer for a much larger one, about 7 inches long. We had no wire, so we knew we were taking a risk. A pikes’ teeth can cut through 30 or 40-pound fluorocarbon like it is butter. It is always best to use strong wire attached to your fly instead of fluorocarbon. Unfortunately, that is all we had to work with, so we went as heavy as we could, which was 40-pound fluoro.

Here’s a few basics I’ve learned about chasing Montana pike

These fish chase large baits, so game changers, deceivers, and flashy flies tied with bucktail, craft fur and schlappen 4-6 inches long make a great size reference for these patterns. It is not out of the question to throw a musky-sized pike fly upwards of 12” when targeting big pike. This does not need to be a match-the-hatch scenario, pike like huge, vibrant flies — white and red or white and chartreuse.  Although, if you are are familiar with the water you are fishing and you can mimic their prey it could get a big fish or an uninterested fish to eat.

The fly we chose had a heavy dose of flashabou, glue-on eyes and a 5/0 Owner hook. We fished the same rod we were throwing for trout that morning, a 9-foot 8-weight with a 15-foot streamer sink tip line. This would allow us to fish a weightless pike fly while relying on the tip to get the fly down. Fishing a floating line when the pike are very shallow is a good bet otherwise.

If it were fall or an early spring outing, blind-casting the deepest sections of stagnant water with a slower retrieval would be the proper method. However in the heat of Montana’s summer, these fish can be everywhere. They like to lay belly down on the bottom in ambush points, or float higher in the column soaking up some sun. Similar to a bass, they lurk by weeds and structure. They tend to linger in back eddies, deep tailouts or sloughs. Don’t expect to find a pike in fast-moving, shallow water.

To be in the game you have to search for grassy, muddy, stagnant water. These areas are often littered with a few backwater PBR and Kettlehouse cans left over from the non-fly fishing students at U of M. If you notice it’s getting a little trashy that’s a good sign you are in pike water.  

Pike fishing isn’t hard, the rest just takes time on the water, learning the spots, and learning how to get a pike to react.

BACK TO MY STORY...

With the pike rig ready, we set back out to try and convince a laid-up fish we spotted to bite. All the pike we saw were simply not in the mood. These fish can be tough. Sometimes, they attack your streamer, chasing it down at immense speeds, inhaling it right in front of your eyes. And other times, they could care less.

When it comes to targeting these Pike in Montana, they are quite a bit more pressured than the fish that live in “no name lakes” all throughout Canada. Those fish may crush anything in sight. The river pike in Montana are opportunistic, known to take a hooked cutthroat from the 5wt rod, or scooping up dead whitefish off the bottom. They’d rather feed on live bait, the spin fisherman in the river fish deep to them and do very well. When it comes to fly fishing, they can truly be dicks. I’ve had 13 mile floats for these pike without a single follow, and a week later down the same float have over a dozen follows and a handful of boatside eats. In retrospect, they do enjoy eating the fly much deeper, its not unheard of to catch them on poppers or other surface patterns, but these fish do see pressure often. Many of the locals want them dead to keep their trout fisheries from being highly affected.  The big ones especially, are extremely smart.  

It only takes time and effort to come across a 40” Montana river pike.

THE FIRST POOL

We laid the fly softly ahead of the fish since they were not actively feeding, but laid up. I lead the fish a few feet ahead and retrieved it across its face at a steady speed. Once he was on it I kept the fly moving at that same consistent speed.

One strip and stop, and they’ll move and stop right in front of the fly. If paused too long, they’ll leave. As soon as they lose interest at the end of that pause, make another strip so they turn back on it. They tend to eat right by the boat, similar to a musky.

We left that pool and headed downstream. We spooked a random fish in the tail out and moved to the next long, deep, slow run. In this run, roots littered along the bank provided a slight undercut and plenty of shade from above. As we floated by, I saw a fish with its nose in the bank. It is common to find these fish in a location like this, a slight indent in the bank where they are out of the current.  I think they are just being lazy.

Again, I tossed my fly upstream and let it float right by his face in the current. It didn’t flinch. I picked up the fly out of the water, the fly now heavier than a wet sock and re-laid it softly on the water, practically sliding off the bank. The fish caught a glimpse of it and I saw the big, narrow shadow turn into the current and dart after it. I got excited because the fish was clearly on it.

The current pulled the boat away from the bank and I told Bryce, “he’s on it, he’s on it!” Shade from a big tree darkened the sight of my fly and the fish. My fly line bent and turned into a swing as Bryce began rowing upstream to reposition me along the bank for a do-over. We both assumed the fish wasn’t on the fly anymore, being far off the bank now. My fly continued to swing across and up. As the shade from the towering willow ended and the bright sun reflected on my silver flash, I saw the pike behind it. Bryce lightly back-rowed the boat, no longer sliding left towards the bank, just staying stationary with the river up and down as if we were anchored.

There I was, playing the mouse with the cat not far behind. I was tempted to speed my fly up to entice a strike, but that could’ve scared the pike off. I made short, aggressive strips to ungulate that flashabou in the pike’s face. When I stripped, the fish would charge up to the streamer, so close that the flashabou touched the tip of its nose. I let it sit there in his face for a long pause, nothing.

On the next strip, he jolted up to it again. We went back and forth for another four or five strips until finally, with about 15 feet of line left, the fish flared its gills and the entire streamer disappeared. It happened fast. The fish barely opened its mouth to inhale the streamer. I kept my rod low and strip set, the 40-pound leader tightened. The fish began rolling and head-shaking, I screamed like a little kid after sitting quietly in suspense.

Once the fish realized it was hooked, it ran. I gripped the line tight, but this fish was unstoppable. It headed right for a bush hanging over the river. I dropped my rod tip into the water and held on. I pulled back hard, yanking the pike away from the roots of the bank toward the boat. We had no net large enough, so we jumped out and grabbed the fish by hand. Although unprepared, we managed to lay hands on the 3-foot pike that I’m guessing weighed in the 15-20 pound range. It didn’t look as big in the water sitting behind my fly, but when I stood in the water bear-hugging the fish, I realized it was a beast, a great fish and my new personal best fish on the fly.

I’m still in search of a 40” Montana river pike. I know it’s possible, and I see them get posted on Instagram on many rivers like the Clark Fork, Bitterroot, and the Missouri. I’m not sure if it’s a good thing to have Pike in these rivers alongside trout but I know for sure if they are in the river I’m going to chase after them.

Pike were a fish I never thought I’d cross paths with when moving to Montana, the state known as the holy grail when it comes to western trout fishing. Some of my greatest memories from college were spent dragging my drift boat up and down sketchy boat ramps on the less popular sections of lower rivers and back rowing for miles in the dark. I still love to trout fish but there is something about watching a large pike eat a fly. The hunt for big pike in Montana feels just as rewarding as chasing a trophy brown trout in the fall, it is so rewarding.

Here’s to a 40” pike or bust. If you’re already in that club post it up (bring back the blurred backgrounds), we would love to see it.