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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Caught In A Whirl

Fen Montaigne Knight-Ridder

Richard Kluding was knee-deep in the Madison River one Saturday night, fly-fishing at the epicenter of one of the biggest threats to the trout-angling world.

Something called “whirling disease” apparently had rolled through 50 miles of this fabled river, wiping out 90 percent of the young rainbow trout.

Kluding, a businessman from Boulder, Colo., who has fished the Madison for 23 years, was unfazed.

“This river has been a fabulous river, and now it’s just an excellent river,” said Kluding, 52, hooking a trout in his first few minutes on the Madison. “Frankly, the Madison has been getting some tremendous fishing pressure, and I’m glad to see some adverse publicity. I’m not saying whirling disease isn’t a danger, because it is. But I never considered not coming here this year.”

All along the affected stretch of the Madison - which runs from near Yellowstone National Park north to Ennis - anglers from as far away as Japan flocked to the river one recent weekend. They came to catch some of the big rainbow and brown trout that have made the Madison one of America’s legendary streams. Most were not disappointed; the big trout were in the river, and toward evening, they rose to the surface to feed on caddis and mayflies.

But experienced anglers and guides all noticed what the scientists had been saying: Despite large numbers of brown trout, the number of rainbow trout in the Madison has dropped precipitously, from roughly 3,000 to 300 per mile. The rainbows have apparently fallen victim to a scourge discovered in the eastern United States decades ago and now showing up - with devastating effect - in parts of Colorado and Montana.

Whirling disease is caused by a parasite that attacks a fish’s cartilage and neural system, causing infection and inflammation that can kill the fish and make it whirl in circles. (Whirling fish are essentially disabled and quickly eaten by predators.) The disease seems to affect mainly young fish and is especially hard on rainbow trout; brown trout are far more resistant.

Not much is known about the disease. It has been present in Pennsylvania, New York and other Eastern states since the 1950s but apparently has done far less harm than in the West. A few years ago, scientists identified whirling disease in Colorado, and since then, it has decimated young rainbow trout in several rivers in that state.

But it wasn’t until last December, when whirling disease was discovered on the Madison River, that America’s angling community really took notice. The Madison is on everybody’s list of America’s top 10 angling streams and is probably the most studied trout river in the United States. It is rich in insects and wild trout - five years ago, scientists estimated that it had as many as 5,000 trout per mile, many times more than most Eastern rivers - and it flows through one of the most strikingly beautiful valleys in Montana.

So when word came that whirling disease had hit the Madison like some bad sci-fi scourge, alarm bells went off across the country. Nowhere has the fallout been more damaging than here in Ennis, ground zero of the scare.

Ennis is a town whose economy is built around ranching and trout fishing. Drive into Ennis, which is nestled in a valley flanked by the 10,000-foot peaks of the Madison Range, and you will be greeted by a large statue of an angler hauling in a big trout. On the south side of town is a sign that reads: “Welcome to Ennis - 660 people, 11 Million Trout.”

In the motels, restaurants and fly shops that line the main street, merchants are complaining that the uproar surrounding whirling disease has cut into business by as much as 25 percent. On a Friday in August, many of Ennis’ motels had vacancy signs out front - something that would have been unthinkable a year ago.

“Whirling disease is the biggest disaster I’ve seen in my life,” said Bob Pettit, manager of the Tackle Shop. “We’ve been singled out for publicity because the Madison has been such a great river.”

“I call it the O.J. Simpson trial of the Madison - the spotlight of the entire nation is on this river,” said outfitter and river guide Pat Howard, who has worked on the Madison for 35 years.

Howard said that 20 of his 110 river trips this year had been canceled because of the whirlingdisease scare. Other fly shops and guides reported a similar drop in bookings, although some said the unusually high snow runoff this spring and summer was a factor.

Many here say whirling disease is not the only culprit. Low-water conditions in 1993 and 1994, irregular releases of water from the Hegben Dam during spawning season, and increased fishing pressure also have reduced rainbow populations, they argue.

“The bottom line is they’ve overblown whirling disease,” said Randy J. Cain, owner of a fly shop that bears his name.

Local anglers point out that the large brown-trout population and the surviving rainbows still make the Madison one of the best trout streams in the country. But biologists - who lay blame for the diminished trout population on whirling disease - are worried about what will happen to the Madison when the bigger rainbow trout die and few smaller ones are there to replace them.

Dick Vincent, the regional fisheries manager for the Montana Department of Fish, Wildlife and Parks, said that the situation is not all “gloom and doom” and that the Madison “is probably as good a fishery as any in the state.”

His concern is that the disease will spread to other rivers - such as the Gallatin, Missouri and Yellowstone - that have a higher percentage of rainbow trout and lack the richness of trout food in the Madison.

“We’re in the dark as to where this is going,” Vincent said. “There are so many unanswered questions. But on the Madison, we have seen no recovery of rainbow-trout populations, even in the young.”

Recovery eventually will come, Vincent said, but not until a resistant strain develops in Montana rivers or is discovered in another state.

Meanwhile, anglers are still coming to the Madison in search of trout.

“It’s been my dream,” said Norio Fukuda, a pharmaceuticalcompany researcher from Tokyo who flew to Montana with his wife to fish the Madison. “There is a very famous myth that, on the Madison, there are very big fish. I caught an 18-inch rainbow this morning. I had an ache in my arms.”

One Saturday evening, I had a glimpse of the fishing that has earned the Madison its reputation. At around 6:30 p.m., in between thunderstorms, a cloud of mayflies hatched on the river. I stood in an eddy near Raynolds Pass and watched as about 10 enormous trout rose to sip flies off the water in front of me. I soon hooked a rainbow trout, and after a five-minute fight, I reeled it in. The fish was about 20 inches long and weighed a couple of pounds.

Driving north, out of the Madison Valley, it became evident, however, that the river may face a far more insidious threat than whirling disease. The Madison has long remained undeveloped, providing anglers with clean water and stunning views. But now signs are sprouting up along the Madison that read: “Riverfront Lots for Sale.”

Everyone wants a piece of paradise. And that, more than any protozoan disease spore, may one day mean the ruination of this magnificent river.