Into the great WIDE OPEN

The dictionary lists “rough-hewn” as “rugged or rough and unrefined in character.” But a new riverside hideaway on southwest Montana’s Madison River redefines the term. At first glance, Moonlight on the Madison appears to be a century-old, rough-hewn homesteader’s outfit. It’s not.

Actually, it’s anything but rough. Stylish cabins (petite and comfy), eclectic cuisine (fresh fish and wild game) and the Kids’ Camp (no adults, please!) add up to a remedy for tired-out resort vacations.

Throw in a seldom-fished section of one of the world’s great trout streams and spectacular views of mountains, meadows and a meandering river, and a Moonlight on the Madison visit is akin to “graceful repose.”

Just a 20-minute dirt-road ride from Ennis, Mont., Moonlight on the Madison is a coattail of the Moonlight Basin ski resort, which is next door to the famed Big Sky Resort.

Moonlight Basin is situated on a 25,000-acre ranch of the same name, half of which is in conservation easement acreage and abuts the Lee Metcalf Wilderness. Moonlight on the Madison graces rough grassland west of the alpine ski resort.

At Moonlight on the Madison, there’s little chance that guests will chance upon other tourists beyond those staying in one of the four cabins.

Specifically, it sits on rangeland belonging to the neighboring, 8,000-acre Valley Garden Ranch. Moonlight Basin leased 2,000 acres and about three-and-a-half miles of fishing stream.

Few fishermen traipse these parts, says Valley Garden Ranch Manager John Henry, “because they can only access the stream by floating through then wade fishing – that’s Montana law.”

The Moonlight complex got its kickstart when local rancher Lee Poole and investors purchased the Moonlight Basin Ranch 14 years ago. Poole was once a cowboy on the Valley Garden spread in his younger years, when he’d spend up to 280 days a year in the saddle.

“Our vision was to protect as much property as we could through conservation buyers,” he says of Moonlight Basin Ranch.

Poole notes that the leased grassland where Moonlight on the Madison sits was once large enough for 5,000 head of cattle that he helped herd in this quiet valley, 40 miles southwest of Bozeman. Today, about 200 cow-calf pairs roam the Valley Garden Ranch, and none on the river section, says Henry.

Long shadows cast by 10,000-foot Fan Mountain illuminate sunrise fly-casting sessions on a branch of the Madison River, which locals call Fletcher Channel or Fletcher Creek. This clear-running stream is one of several braids of the Madison River as it churns through Madison Valley.

Moonlight guests can opt for the cabins, which sleep two to four people ($240 a night plus a three-meal package at $95 per person), or a day of just fishing and dinner ($65 each plus tip). A local outfitter, Montana Trout Stalkers, offers guiding and casting lessons.

“The fishing and dinners have really taken off,” says Jeremiah Lake, a Moonlight host, who adds that Moonlight on the Madison has not advertised. “It’s been all word of mouth. We are booked out a week in advance, and we just opened in July.”

While the adults toss dry flies into the stream, the kids run over the grassy hills playing games like croquet or bocce ball, or just swimming. They can learn to fly fish using kid-size gear under the instruction of kid-guides.

Kristina Whitlow, a 26-year-old Seattle native and Moonlight on the Madison employee, encourages kids to try their hand at a few new skills, like the very old atlatl, a Native American hunting tool. She explains that the atlatl is a spear-throwing device; the stick is equipped with a socket used to steady the end of the spear during the throwing motion.

While the atlatl area needs instruction and supervision, the lariat and the straw bale with a plastic steer head need no explanation, just tutoring. Roping a faux steer is not as easy as it looks.

When the youngsters tire, there’s the Little Fletcher Kids’ Camp. Inside, kids find puzzles, cowboy dress-up clothes, coloring books, a flower press and a cot.

“My 3-year-old granddaughter found the Little Fletcher teepee and stayed in there all afternoon and played,” says Diana Portis of Westminister, Ark.

Portis and 10 relatives spent an afternoon exploring the Moonlight fishing camp, then enjoyed streamside appetizers: grilled Maui blue prawns with orange soy glaze, Asian slaw and Italian wines.

With a microbrew in one hand and an eye on a flock of white pelicans overhead, another guest headed to a hammock swinging between two giant cottonwood trees for a half-hour nap before dinner. Two juvenile bald eagles also frequent the cottonwood grove to spy on native trout.

Perhaps the best thing about Moonlight on the Madison is that families or couples that don’t share a passion for fishing can enjoy the quiet day on the riverbanks and an exceptional dining experience together.

As anglers ambled back to the dining tent, the chef prepared a dinner of grass-fed Montana bison prime rib with sweet creamed corn, local sweet peas and Montana morels. There also were braised local mixed greens, Roquefort butter and crispy Vidalia onions.

An evening without bugs meant candlelight dining outside at picnic tables, although dinner also can be served in a large wall tent with screens that zipper out insects.

Portis and her family fished and feasted, then headed back to a rented home during their annual, monthlong Madison Valley visit. They lingered long enough for grandkids to roast marshmallows and watched the full moon rise above the Madison Range and Beaverhead National Forest. Then ranch vehicles took them back to the parking area; the ranch road is for four-wheel Moonlight vehicles only.

“This place to me has been a special experience,” says Portis, who is challenged by multiple sclerosis. “I’ve started fly fishing thanks to the help here.

“We’ve come back to Moonlight on the Madison four times now this summer. The food is wonderful – the Southern-style crab cakes, fabulous – and the people, well, wonderful.”

When the moonlight shines down on the Madison River, solar-powered lights line the path between the dining tent and guest cabins – no electricity here. In fact, no permanent structures exist, nor will enduring facilities ever dominate this stretch of stream.

“We can’t leave anything down here during the winter or it will be gone, completely gone next spring,” says Moonlight employee Whitlow. “It’s because the river gorges in the winter.”

Gorging, explains Ennis fly fisher Tami Christensen, who grew up nearby, “is when the river freezes and the ice turns into ice packs. It will drag cabins and destroy them.

“A few winters ago, a guy was camping by the river. Everybody told him to move his camper out of there, but he didn’t. When the river started gorging, it crushed his camper. Completely.”