Sun River Overview
Access
Tributary Creeks and Lakes
Float Trips
Camping
Fly Shops and Outfitters
Much of the prairie lands in the Augusta and Choteau area did not attract a large number of homesteaders after it was opened in 1862. Once the prime river-bottom land was claimed, the remaining lands were dry and wind-swept. Adding to this was the area's bleak and chilling winters. Typical government homestead offerings of 160 or 320 acres could not sustain a small rancher or farmer without irrigation water. The first irrigation project, completed in 1918, brought renewed interest to the area. The Bureau of Reclamation concluded that, in order to bring prosperity to the area, the Sun River would need to be dammed. With the completion of the Gibson Reservoir in 1929, the area enticed new settlers to the region. Today Gibson Reservoir provides boating and fishing recreation to residents and visitors.
More importantly, it is the trailhead for the North
Fork of the Sun River and the South Fork of the Sun River, as well as the
majestic Bob Mar-shall Wilderness. Although some fair to poor fishing may be
experienced across the grasslands that the Sun River traverses, for the most
part the river is restricted by private property.
Gibson Reservoir
Gibson
Reservoir offers a boat launch, Mortimer Gulch Campground, and a horse
facility. Just above the boat launch, Trail 201 leads seven miles to the head
of the lake. For day hikers wishing to fish the North Fork of the Sun River,
plan on a three-hour hike. Although the trail is not arduous and mostly level,
horse people need to be forewarned that the trail follows along the contours of
the lake, and for about 30 minutes of travel time the trail is chiseled out of
solid rock, high above the lake's waters, often with little room to pass or
maneuver.
One of the first scenic areas to camp on the lake may be reached in just a little more than an hour, and it offers both shoreline and shade. At the head of the lake, the trail forks to the right up over a saddle and down into the North Fork drainage. Trail 201 continues to the confluence of the North Fork and the South Fork, approximately two miles.
Trail 201
ascends the north side of the valley mountain-side cresting at a saddle, which
offers a splendid view of the South Fork drainage. Hikers pass through two
gates as they descend down through aspen groves and the early summer abundance
of wildflowers. From mid-June through early July, plan on seeing a host of
wildflowers representing the color palate. On my trip on June 11, 2000, I noted
wild roses, sunflowers, orchids, iris, Indian Paint Brush, lupine, and my
favorite, the shooting star. I wish I could take photographs of all the
beautiful flowers that I am sure I had never seen before, but my lead donkey,
Buddy, becomes impatient and pushes me when I pause, and Banjo also usually
resorts to some impatient mischief when I stop.
Although I did
not travel very far inside the Bob Marshall Wilderness designation, the river
beckons with promise. I would estimate that I walked nine miles before I viewed
the North Fork of the Sun River. Camped on a bluff overlooking the river, I
fished for only 30 minutes before I was drenched with a chilling rainstorm.
Although I caught one small cutthroat, it was difficult fishing during the
silted runoff. Nonetheless, the North Fork is considered good fishing for
nice-sized cutthroats. The next morning I broke camp and headed back to meet
Trail 201 to the South Fork of the Sun.
South Fork of the Sun River
Trail 201
continues following the lake shore past the narrow cliffs that back up the
North Fork and the South Fork. At the head of the lake the North Fork tumbles
past the K-Bar-L Guest Ranch. Relocated in 1927 with the construction of the
Gibson Dam, the ranch was originally patented in the 1880s under Soldier's
Script. The ranch, supplied with natural energy systems, offers a traditional
guest ranch in the heart of a wilderness. Owned and managed by third- and
fourth-generation members of the Klick family, the ranch is only reached by
boat or by trail. Passing through the Klick Ranch, hikers will enter the Bob
Marshall Wilderness about a mile above the bridge over the North Fork and just
above a series of rapids. From this juncture the trail splits. The lower trail
is the low-water trail and it fords the river within the first mile and winds
its way up the South Fork to Benchmark. I camped where the two trails split.
The upper trail circumvents the canyon on its way 14 miles to Benchmark. At
this same junction a third trail leads eight miles to Bear Lake, which offers
excellent fishing for 10-inch cutthroats.
The best
fishing in this area is just up from the Klick Ranch, where the South Fork of
the Sun backs up to the cascading rapids. During the spring when the water is
high, boaters motor the seven miles right up to the confluence and drop anchor.
Fishing mostly with bait and roe, they catch a lot of small cutthroats that
mingle around just below the rapids. Later when the water drops, the boaters
have to hike up the trail a little ways. Having been "skunked" due to the high
and roiled water above the falls, that evening I couldn't resist moving down to
the slower water, where all the boats had been anchored. (I dare say many of
you, too, would succumb to this fish-pond mentality if you had hiked upwards of
15 miles in two days and found yourself cheerless having caught only one dink.)
I attached an
"Oscar-the-Grouch" look-alike. It was bright green, two inches long, had big
bulbous eyes, as well as yellow rubber legs. Well, I thought, that should be
heavy enough to pull down my San Juan worm to the bottom. To my surprise, on
the very first cast, I caught my first 10-inch cutthroat on this frightful
Woolly Bugger. On the third cast I caught another 10-incher on the San Juan. In
30 minutes I had caught six cutthroats and one grayling. Off in the distance I
heard the supper bell on the Klink Ranch. I knew that it did not toll for me,
and that the guests were going to sit down to a delicious ranch meal, but one
mile away in a small meadow next to the river, I was content. I look forward to
returning.
Before I left,
my camp was inspected by a game warden. I queried him about the fishing reports
that the South Fork was only fair fishing above the Klick Ranch. He had no
insights, although he con-ceded that he would only describe the South Fork as
fair, unlike the North Fork, which he rated good to excellent. He did
acknowledge that the West Fork of the South Fork of the Sun offered good
fishing up in the meadow section.
I must say that
my donkeys were fairly well-behaved the first two days, but on our return Banjo
started acting up long before I got to the granite cliff section. This was the
first trip handling both donkeys by myself. I tied Banjo's lead rope to Buddy's
pack with a slip-knot. Each time we came to a rivulet trickling across the
trail, Buddy would flair his nostrils and leap forward. Right behind him Banjo
would react by jumping back. What a mess this created. A number of times the
rope did not slip, and I had a tug-of-war between the two asses. Finally, I
gave up and completely unhooked Banjo and let him walk as a free agent. When I
got to the cliff section, I fretted about what to do with two critters. The
trail is literally blasted out of sheer rock high above the lake, not to
mention the fact that it is very narrow in places. Would Banjo behave better
and create less tension if we passed someone on the trail and he was free to
freak-out or hug close to Buddy and myself? Or would I be able to keep control
of him if I tied him to Buddy with a serious knot? Every time I came to a blind
corner, I nervously called out and listened for a reply. Gradually, my
confidence grew as I gingerly led these two donkeys closer to the end of the
cliff section.
The trail in
one spot descended straight down to the water's edge and another blind corner.
We rounded the corner and headed straight up the cliff again. Nearing the crest
about 80 yards away, I could see the trail was vacant for another 100 yards. I
breathed a sight of relief. Suddenly the pressure of the climb proved too much
for Buddy, and he cut wind so loud he shattered Banjo's poking complacency.
Head to butt, naturally Banjo jumped backwards. On hearing loose rock dropping
down to the water below, Buddy panicked and lunged forward. Banjo, overwhelmed
with fear, naturally followed his flight instinct, spun around and galloped
back down the trail hell-bent for leather. I yelled, but it was no use. I
prayed that no one would be on the trail behind us, as Banjo bucked and kicked
around the blind corner. By the time I found a root on the side of the cliff to
tie up Buddy, Banjo came charging around the trail again. I was quite amazed
that all of his packs were still securely tied. He ran up to me and buried his
head in my chest as if to say, I'm sorry. I wasn't polite in sharing with him
the frustration and anxiety he had caused me. The cute donkey routine just
didn't cut it. Ah, dear reader, I know by now you must by thinking to yourself,
is this guy reckless, irresponsible, crazy, foolhardy, or just experiencing
beginner's luck? I, too, am beginning to raise those questions.
