Montana Scout Trip

The Drifter Fish Club heads to the iconic waters of Montana to fish the Missouri River...

Written by Hunter Leavine, Drifter Fish Club Founder and Host of the Captains Collective Podcast.

Are you even a fly angler if you haven’t stepped into the cold, iconic waters of Montana? If you haven’t stood riverside and watched a caddis hatch unfold—tiny bugs bursting skyward like confetti, only to be ambushed by a hungry trout before they ever make it home?

Or better yet, if you haven’t tangled a nymph rig so catastrophically that your guide silently slides into the river, lights a fresh cigarette, and takes a long drag while reevaluating every life choice that led them to this moment—while you sit on the bank like a soaked, scolded Labrador?

Since I was a kid, I’d heard stories about Montana. Ever since A River Runs Through It hit theaters on October 9, 1992—just a month after I was born—Montana and fly fishing have been tangled together (like I mentioned before, something I’m well familiar with).

For every angler who chooses this path, Montana is part of the mythos—and for good reason.

There were two things that struck me most about our trip:

The place.

And the process.

First, the place.

Fishing in Montana is, in large part, about simply being in Montana. The landscape is a dream for anyone who loves the outdoors—it’s stunning, humbling, cinematic.Breathtaking ranges, rolling plains, historic buffalo jumps, and some incredible fishing are just the tip of the iceberg when answering the question: Why fish there?

Of course, we came to catch fish. Big ones, if possible. Lots of them, ideally.But at Drifter, it’s never just about the fish. It’s also about the place—about seeing the world through water. And there are few places quite like Montana for that.

Then there’s the process.

Montana is a living puzzle. You’ve got to pay attention. Flip rocks. Watch bugs. Read the current. You have to dial in on the little things and not be afraid to geek out over entomology and fish behavior. Success comes to those who study, adapt, adjust—again, and again, and again. It’s a dance.

We caught fish. Plenty of them. We didn’t count or measure, so you’ll just have to take our word for it. But the real heroes of the week weren’t the anglers (no offense)—they were the guides. The ones re-rigging, then re-rigging again, while we sipped huckleberry beers (and, at times, something a little stronger).

FOOD & FUN

On our first night of the trip, we took our time and settled in. I’ve found it important to let things feel unrushed as we ease into the rhythm of the week.

We shared a meal at the Craig Tap House, spent some time getting to know one another—and got a good night’s sleep.

Every morning, we grabbed breakfast from The Trout Shop. Craig feels more like a movie set than a town, and everything was within easy walking distance. Strolling over for a breakfast sandwich, coffee, and a couple of things you probably didn’t need was a great way to start the day.

We had some incredible meals. At Izaaks, we sipped Huckleberry Margaritas, shared appetizers, and ordered just about everything the menu had to offer—steaks, fish, burgers, lamb. I’m still digesting dishes from that night just thinking about it.

After dinner, we played a few rounds of pool to burn off the calories and stir up some friendly competition.

(You can check out the Captains Collective podcast with Chef John [HERE].)

On the final night, we fired up the Gozney oven and threw a pizza party in the mountains—featuring fresh morel mushrooms and some of the most breathtaking views I’ve ever shared a meal in.

Those little moments and shared experiences are the ones we’ll hold on to for the rest of our lives.

But the culinary highlight of the trip came from Drifter Club member Trey Foshee—a trained chef who generously put his foodie superpowers to work, whipping up some incredible tacos for the crew.

We love getting out and exploring restaurants and bars wherever we go, but at the end of the day, nothing beats a family-style meal with world-class food and good company.

FISHINGI

haven’t had much experience with freshwater fly fishing. As a kid, I dabbled a bit with my dad in the Smoky Mountains—mostly ending up with my line tangled in low-hanging branches or wrapped around my body like a poorly made mummy costume.

Most of what I do now takes place on poling skiffs and in saltwater.Drift boats were a welcome change of scenery—slower, more relaxed.

If saltwater fishing is a rowdy Friday night with friends, drift boat fishing is a slow Sunday morning with family. I think I literally said, “Ahhh,” a few times…

All around, we had a blast—laughed on the boat with friends, explored new water, caught beautiful fish, and most importantly, lived out the mission: to make memories that will stick with us for a lifetime.