Commentary

A paean to Bud Lilly – a trout’s best friend

George Ochenski

August 22, 20254:17 am

 George Ochenski (left) and Bud Lilly (right) pictured here in 2007 (Photo courtesy of George Ochenski).

A paean is “a fervent expression of joy or praise.”  When it comes to the long and ongoing struggle to preserve the incredible legacy of Montana’s world-famous trout fishing rivers and streams, Bud Lilly, who was recently inducted into the National Fly Fishing Hall of Fame, deserves every bit of the praise — and the joy. 

For thousands of young anglers the beautiful flies pictured in Bud Lilly’s catalog brought dreams of fishing the Holy Waters of Montana’s legendary trout streams.  For those lucky enough to actually spend time in Bud’s West Yellowstone Trout Shop, the array of those concoctions of fur and feathers tied so artfully on tiny hooks was dizzying — although few of us had enough money to buy even a fraction of what we so fervently wanted to tie to our leaders.

But for Bud, it wasn’t all about commerce.  He’d gladly take the time to help young and/or inexperienced fly anglers pick “the right flies for the right places” with a humility and kindness that belayed his national and world-wide fame.  

His was not the false bravado so common these days, where anglers feel a need to hold their trout so they can post pictures online to brag of their catch.  Quite the opposite.  

He knew the rivers intimately — among them, the Gallatin, Madison, Jefferson, as well as the Firehole, Gibbon, and Madison headwaters in Yellowstone National Park.  The depth of his knowledge was no surprise since he grew up fishing those rivers.  Initially he did so to feed his family during the sparse days of the Great Depression when the primary goal was “catch and release in bacon grease” and the “end of the rainbow” was a black cast iron pan. 

That would change as he realized that, like so many things, the wild trout of Montana and the rivers and streams upon which they relied were not infinite.  He pioneered the ethic that catching these wild, leaping, beautiful fish was in itself the great pleasure — and that killing and eating every one would soon leave the rivers fished out and barren.

My personal friendship with Bud spanned nearly a half-century and went far beyond what flies to use in what rivers.  For decades we wrestled in the policy arena to pass legislation that actually protected the aquatic ecosystems essential for Montana’s wild trout.

Make no mistake, the challenges to keep the great rivers continue to be many, varied, and increasing.  Far too many irrigators still believe that water left instream to keep a river and its fish healthy is water wasted.  In part, that attitude is fostered by the strictures of western water law that keeping a valid water right means “use it or lose it” — despite the riverine consequences. 

Likewise, rivers that support healthy wild trout populations must have clean and cold water, which means minimizing sedimentation, nutrients, and the ever-increasing variety of pollutants from herbicides, pesticides, pharmaceuticals and fertilizers.  Bud knew all this — and was a stalwart advocate and fierce comrade-in-arms to his final days.

While his induction in the National Fly Fishing Hall of Fame is indeed a great honor to his life and work, the fact is that work is now more important than ever as Montana’s legendary trout waters face the grim challenges of climate change, development, and chronic dewatering. 

Although Bud is now casting in the clouds, I have a hunch he’s still saying “go get ’em and fight for the rivers and fish” — and the real honor to his incredible life and legacy is to do just that.