Originally published on hintofriches.com (May 23, 2021)
I’ll post a few more descriptions of Nine Mile Hole that I had collected in my early research. I don’t believe these have been widely read by searchers.
Expert anglers and writers convey the special features of this place in a way I simply can’t.
“Nine Mile Hole is the best piece of trout holding water I’ve ever seen. It is a quarter-mile-long broad, deep run, with left-curving bends at both upper and lower ends. It has weeds, clear deep channels, gravel stretches, boulder and rubble stretches, flats, logs and drifts, silt beds and a 58-degree cold spring inlet on the far side of the upper middle of the run. I have never seen any piece of water that contained so many things necessary to a trout’s welfare.”
“In the 1930s, when the limit was fifteen fish, a West Yellowstone angler took — and kept — fifteen trout from here totaling seventy-four pounds, about one ounce shy of five pounds per fish.”
— Fishing Yellowstone Waters (1984), by Charles E. Brooks
“Below, the river makes a big sweeping curve alongside the highway, a deep, broad section filled with giant boulders big as sports cars. This is the famous Nine Mile Hole, meaning, in the terminology of the local anglers, that it is just nine miles in from the west entrance to the Park.
This is a truly excellent piece of water, which always contains trout of one to three pounds, but it is difficult to fish. The great boulders cause deep pockets, cross currents, and swirls; the channel swings about in the stream bed because of these influences; there are hummocks and bars of fine material and beds of weeds. All these make for capricious currents and the broken surface causes distortion of vision, leading one to misjudge the depth and step in over his waders. But these are the things that make it a home for fine trout and a challenge to the thoughtful angler. Years ago a local angler achieved momentary fame for his skill — and his greed — by taking and keeping fifteen trout that weighed a total of seventy-four pounds from this piece of water.”
“I’ve seen Nine Mile Hole when it appeared barren, too, but I knew that the trouble lay with me on those days, for this is an exceptionally endowed piece of water for trout welfare. In the words of the Hollywood press corps, it has everything.
It begins at an upper curve and runs straight for almost a quarter-mile to a lower curve. At first glance, it looks all of a piece, but to so consider it is a fatal mistake.
At the upper end one sees the first of the giant boulders that are found only here on the entire river. These have been broken off the canyon wall, which towers over the north bank of the river, by earthquakes in centuries past. One can still see where some of them once were, and one can also still see the snags and stumps of trees broken off when the boulders broke loose and came bounding down to lodge in the river in later, more recent times.
These rocks breast the current, and over the years some have collected all sorts of debris. Logs and roots lodge on the upstream face of the rocks, and limbs, weeds, moss, and smaller flotsam builds up until another, more violent flood carries away most or all of this mat.
Silt has collected against the upstream edge of some of them, forming bars and even small islands, while on the downstream side the swirling eddies have spun out deep mysterious holes. On the other hand, some of them have had the bottom excavated on the upper side and the silt deposited on the lower. It all depends on the exact angle and speed of the current, and also on what, if any, debris guards the upper edge.
The big boulders and the piles of waterborne debris cause the current to run in many directions. In some places it will be moving at right angles to the axis of the stream bed. Some such pieces of current are only fifteen feet long but they must be dealt with because your nymph must drift naturally without drag for any of the sizable fish here to be interested. One cannot dawdle or dream on this long deep run or you might as well be playing tiddlywinks.
One may find it impossible to get any kind of decent drift in the swirling eddies behind the larger rocks. The answer here is to treat this as pocket water. Approach closely, cast the fly into the eddy on a very short line, hold the rod high to keep slack off the water, and do not pick up the fly as long as it remains in the area.
Sid Terrell, who has fished this Nine Mile Hole for over fifty years, says with emphasis that persistence is the key to taking fish from it even if you are doing everything right. A few or a dozen casts into the same area are not enough. You must throw the fly into the same spot twenty or thirty times or until a fish hits. Sid presumes, of course, that you know the right fly and the right method of fishing it and I am living proof that this just ain’t so. I’ve been skunked here often, even when I was sure I had the right fly and the right method.
There are some few Pteronarcys nymphs along here and also scattered Ephemerella grandis (Western Green Drake) nymphs. This makes a size six or eight black nymph the best choice. Locally, favorites are the Montana nymph or the Martinez Black but a black wooly worm is also quite effective.
Down through the middle of this stretch, there is a deep channel about two-thirds of the way across. The current shoots down this channel at a good speed. On both sides, silt beds have built up, but the bottom of this channel is clean gravel, and one wants the black nymph to bounce along these rocks in a manner simulating a nymph swept away by the current. A sink-tip line is preferred, and a leader no more than seven-and-one-half feet, to 3X. Keep the fly riding again and again, deep in the channel, ticking the bottom. Work the water thoroughly and you should succeed.
On the far side a small creek enters. This has pushed a delta of silt out into the quiet waters alongside the channel. At times a terrific hatch will come on here, bringing the trout out of the channel and onto the flats to take the floating flies. But this represents a problem. A cast across the currents of the channel is a waste of time because the channel will put an oxbow in your line so quickly that you will seem to have a drag before the fly hits the water.
The channel is too deep to wade and there are only a couple of places in the entire section where one can wade across. By the time you find the right place to cross, the hatch, which is always of short duration, will be coming to a close. Is there a solution?
Yes, locate your crossing spot before you commence to fish. Then when the hatch comes you can be on the other side and in position in a couple of minutes.”
— The Living River (1979), by Charles E. Brooks
