Memorial Day Weekend is upon us and despite last night’s Winter Storm in the high country, the unofficial start of the summer season is underway.

We’ll return to normal programming on Running Line next time around but this week we’re featuring a guest blog from Hannah Dreesbach of Montana Casting Co. Hannah recently attended the Annual Missouri River Women’s Fly Fishing Clinic hosted by WCA, Iron Fly Outfitting and Hidden Canyon Lodge and documented her experience. We host this group annually and hope to offer more beginner and intermediate clinics in the future for those interested. Please contact us if you are interested in attending future clinics.

The Women’s Fly Fishing Clinic at Hidden Canyon Lodge

 

Stepping into Hidden Canyon Lodge on a cool April evening, the first sensation I felt was one of warmth. A fire glowed in the hearth and a cozy sitting area—decked out in a tasteful hodge-podge of fly fishing memorabilia and old-timey antiques—buzzed with conversation. Drinks were being mixed behind the bar. Savory smells drifted from the kitchen. I felt my anxiety melt away immediately.  

I’d come for the fourth annual women’s fly fishing clinic hosted each year in partnership with Wolf Creek Angler—a fly shop nestled in nearby Wolf Creek, Montana. Kicking off on a Friday evening with cocktails and dinner, the weekend ahead promised plenty of fly fishing, good food, and—of course—the company of my fellow female anglers.

…

I grew up in Helena, Montana, a stone’s throw from one of the world’s premier blue-ribbon trout fisheries: the Missouri River. These days, I work for Montana Casting Co., writing about fly fishing for a living. Those two facts always seem like they should be connected, but in truth I’ve never really considered myself much of an angler until recently.

It wasn’t for lack of trying on behalf of my parents. When I was little, my father put a fly rod in my hand at every opportunity—and he was endlessly patient. When I was older, I was lucky enough to meet a step-dad who never missed a chance to take the drift boat out and who spent his spare time building custom fly rods. In recent years, my mom has also become an avid angler. Now she rarely heads for the mountains without her fly rod handy.

In short, I was surrounded by people who loved fly fishing. I could see their passion for it and the excitement to share it with me. Because I didn’t want to disappoint them, I fished when they asked me to go fishing… But I never felt confident fishing alone, and that meant, despite years of off and on exposure, I was still very much a beginner every time I picked up a fly rod. And that was frustrating.

When the option to attend a women’s fly fishing clinic arose, I was nervous. I could feel old insecurities circulating in the back of my mind: what if I looked unpracticed? What if they noticed I was a “fake” fly fisherman? I already felt hesitant about the sport and I wasn’t sure I could match their passion or excitement for a weekend on the water. But there was also a feeling of anticipation. Perhaps this time around, I could discover what it might feel like to fly fish for myself.

 

Friday Night: Cocktails and Catch-Up

 

Hidden Canyon Lodge is roughly a ten-minute drive from the fly fishing mecca of Craig, Montana. Tucked into an offshoot of the Missouri River canyon, it’s a few short strides from the Mountain Palace Fishing Access Site along Old U.S. Highway 191.

Modern luxury hides a storied past: built in the early 1900s, it began as the Mountain Palace Tavern—a once bustling stop-over for travelers between Helena and Great Falls. “Anyone over fifty still knows it that way,” Madeleine Cantoni, manager and executive chef, told me with a laugh during a phone call following the clinic.

Since the 1970s, it’s seen a stint as a biker bar, a period as the Fly Fisher’s Inn, and several years of dormancy before it was finally bought in 2016 by current owners Peter and Patricia Wooldridge. Heavy renovation and restoration of the original cabin structure resulted in a luxurious, Montana getaway perfectly suited to the fly fishermen who flock to the Missouri year after year.

Long days in the outdoors don’t always lend themselves to the cleanliest of clientele—but you wouldn’t have known it given the sparkling state of Hidden Canyon Lodge’s beautiful rooms. I dropped my bags beside a luxurious queen bed. Between the clean and comfy furnishings, heated bathroom tiles, fully-stocked Keurig, and a generous handful of Werther’s Original candies, I was half tempted to spend the rest of my evening relaxing in the confines of my room. Alas, that queen bed would have to wait. I stepped out into the crisp evening air and headed for the main lodge. It was time to say hello to the ladies.

…

The core group of women who attend this particular fly fishing clinic hasn’t changed too much since the first clinic in 2021. The end result feels more like a family reunion than a random gathering of individuals looking to improve their fly fishing skills. The introductory cocktail hour is filled with hugs and stories from the year past—but they’re not the only familiar faces. Three of the weekend’s four guides trickled in as the evening progressed: Libby Stultz, Kara Tripp, and Shalon Hastings—who’s been with the clinic from its very inception.

There’s still a relatively limited number of female guides on the river, so getting enough of them to lead this clinic annually is one of the challenges Jason Orzechowski (co-founder of Wolf Creek Angler and owner of Iron Fly Outfitting) and Shalon face each year when organizing the event. “We do have other female guides on the river,” Shalon told me later, “but they’re booked.” This year, they asked the cheerful and easy-going Luke Koerten to guide the fourth boat.

Though I didn’t end up sharing a boat with Shalon, I did get the chance to pick her brain the following week during a phone call. I was interested to hear if she’s faced any challenges breaking into a community that has long been male-dominated. She took a moment to answer—she’s got a warm, thoughtful presence about her that immediately puts me at ease—then said, “It’s been great, to be honest.” Prior to becoming a guide, she already had roots in the fly fishing community.

After owning and operating small businesses in downtown Helena for years—including the popular coffee shop Hub Coffee and Taco Del Sol—she saw a rising demand for fly fishing instruction among female anglers. In March of 2018, she helped kick off Last Chance Fly Gals, a nonprofit working to connect female anglers with community, education, and meaningful experiences. Shalon went on to start Fly FisHer Adventures (currently offering personalized instruction for women anglers in partnership with Iron Fly Outfitting) and become a certified guide, citing the support and teaching of other guides as an important factor in her success.

Jason attended the first meeting of Last Chance Fly Gals as a sponsor. Just six years prior, he’d moved his family to Montana to pursue fly fishing as a career and embrace the outdoors lifestyle. After a year of guiding and managing a fly shop for Montana River Outfitters, he purchased the fly shop from MRO, remodeled, and opened Wolf Creek Angler in the spring of 2014. Now, WCA is a go-to source for guide services, shuttles, watercraft rentals, gear (including an impressive selection of fly patterns), river info, and great advice for making the most out of your fly fishing adventures. The idea for a women’s clinic came to Jason after seeing the massive turn out for the Last Chance Fly Gals meeting, and he approached Shalon about it soon after.

Since the first successful clinic in 2021, it’s morphed from a station-heavy course in fly fishing basics to a small community of gung-ho female anglers who reunite on an annual basis. Shalon has come to look forward to the experience each year. “I marvel at this, and it happens at other women’s clinics I do… The women just mesh.”

…

That “meshing” was on full display night one around the dinner table. The initial awkwardness of getting reacquainted soon devolved into fluid conversation jumping between work drama to new puppies to exciting fly fishing adventures—many of which came from Kara’s reflections on guiding in Chile and Argentina. (The size of the trout and the force of the winds at Patagonia’s Jurassic Lake both seem truly legendary.)

At some point, Kara posed a question to the group: “What’s been your biggest high and your biggest low from the past year?” There was a collective moment of silence before someone started laughing. “Getting right into the deep stuff, aren’t we?”

But the women around that table didn’t shy away from the deep stuff. One by one, we all shared. The highs were beautiful—new found job satisfaction, a grandbaby on the way, an adorable puppy joining the family, or simply getting to be there for a weekend of fishing on the Missouri. The lows were hard—family members battling cancer or other diseases, difficult transitions in relationships or jobs. For a moment, we all got to see one another for the complex human beings that we are, and it was humbling.

The night ended with some delightful huckleberry cheesecake—the sinful punctuation to a multi-course dinner including fresh Caesar salad, spinach-stuffed chicken over pilaf rice, and hand-picked wine pairings. (I feel it’s worth mentioning that several participants throughout the weekend cited the food as a significant factor in returning to this clinic year after year. Madi takes pride in the lodge’s culinary offerings. She, along with the other chefs she manages, are encouraged to be creative…and it’s yet to disappoint.)

Filled up on good food and good company, we all headed to bed with the promise of a wide-open river and flashing trout to lull us to sleep.

 

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 ground work 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 ran began almost as soon as my mom and I stepped into the drift boat.

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.

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.

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.

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 new found 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.  

 

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.

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 hoping 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.”

Finally, I asked my mom, 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 step dad, 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.”

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.

 

A Shoutout to the Organizers, Guides, and Partners Who Made This Clinic Possible:

 

The hard work, passion, and dedication of many made this weekend of fly fishing 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 FlyFisHer 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