Fly-Fishing Legend Works To Save Big Hole

In an age where fly-fishing Montana’s premier rivers has become the in thing to do, finding the kind of solitude that once attracted a young George Grant to the Big Hole River is next to impossible. For more than 60 years, Grant enjoyed the quiet moments he shared with the Big Hole River and its trout.

In 1933, after losing his job during the Great Depression, Grant rented a $5-a-month cabin in Glen and fished every day through the season. From then on, fly-fishing, fly-tying and the Big Hole were integral parts of his life.

He went on to develop his own method of weaving hair bodies and hackles for a variety of flies he created. He patented the process in 1939 and his initial pattern, the Black Creeper, drew raves from fishermen from around the nation.

“Back in those days, if I met two or three people, I really thought it was getting crowded,” the 89-year-old Grant recalled recently in an interview in his modest Butte home. “There were many, many days that I spent on the river and never saw another person. Of course, those days are long, long gone.”

Grant’s consuming passion for fly-fishing and the Big Hole River has ushered his artfully woven flies around the world, including a museum in Norway and in former President Jimmy Carter’s museum.

Collections of his original fly patterns now bring top money, which he donates for conservation efforts for the Big Hole River. He estimates collections of his flies have brought in more than $75,000 for conservation groups over the years.

Over the years, he has received a variety of awards, including the prestigious Chevron Conservation Award, for the battles he’s fought to preserve the Big Hole and its trout. The George Grant Chapter of Trout Unlimited is named after him.

Another living legacy is the Big Hole River Foundation, which Grant helped found in 1989 after drought closed the Big Hole to fishing. The foundation works closely with ranchers and irrigators along the river to find cooperative methods to enhance its aquatic habitat.

“I was always a one-river man,” Grant recalled.

“I think it was its size that attracted me to it,” he said of the Big Hole River. “It’s a real trout stream. It’s small enough to wade.”

In the early 1930s there were no brown trout in the river. But Grant remembers seeing their numbers increase in the 1940s until they became the dominant species.

“A lot of people didn’t like that,” he said. “I did. I always thought brown trout were a better fish and were most of the time harder to catch than rainbows or brookies.”

Grant began fly-fishing the Big Hole River in the late 1920s, well before many people considered fishing anything more than a meat-gathering exercise. When he began advocating “catch-and-release” fishing, many people laughed in his face.

“I was a catch-and-release fisherman when no one had ever heard of the term,” he said. “I knew then it was an important way to protect the fishery so everyone could enjoy it.”