For many anglers, the idea of a perfect day on the water feels more like a daydream than something you can actually plan. But in the remote town of Libby, Montana, I found it. It started with drifting through some of the most stunning scenery I’ve ever laid eyes on, and casting to wild fish without another soul in sight. My guide rowed the drift boat with quiet confidence, the kind that only comes from decades on the oars. Later that evening, the same hands that pushed us downriver strummed a banjo with unmistakable passion. The day ended the way all great fishing days should: with a plate of locally sourced beef and the kind of conversation that only happens after a long day outside.
I came to Libby for four days to experience what locals call one of Montana’s most overlooked fisheries. A place where big water, wild fish, and a tight-knit community intersect.
Libby’s Character and Landscape
Libby, Montana, sits tucked into the northwestern corner of the state, far removed from the crowds that pack Montana’s better-known rivers. It’s home to the legendary Kootenai River. A cold, clear ribbon of water framed by endless pines, rugged peaks, and a kind of quiet that’s hard to find these days. The Kootenai River actually starts up in the British Columbia area, then flows from Lake Koocanusa via the Libby Dam. The river then winds through the Northwest corner of Montana, enters northern Idaho, and returns north into Canada, finally reaching its destination of Kootenay Lake.
The town of Libby has a quiet, unhurried charm that feels like stepping back in time. October mornings arrive crisp and cool, with low-hanging fog that burns off by mid-morning to reveal Montana’s signature big blue sky. Higher up, larches begin to glow golden, and the first snow often dusts the surrounding peaks. Here, wildlife far outnumbers the town’s 3,000 residents. Bighorn sheep, mule deer, and bald eagles are everyday sights, adding to the wild beauty of this remote corner of the state.
The Fishing Experience
Most people chasing big Montana trout dream of the Madison or the Yellowstone—rivers packed with drift boats, trophy photos, and trout that have seen every fly ever tied. The Kootenai is the polar opposite of that. And that’s exactly why it’s special.
This river is home to native Columbian Redband trout, Westslope Cutthroat, Bull Trout (which cannot be legally targeted), Kokanee Salmon, and even White Sturgeon. You’ll notice I didn’t mention brown trout; that’s because they were never stocked here. They do show up below Kootenai Falls from time to time, but my guide told me the odds of hooking one are roughly 1 in 300. At the end of the day, it is a native fishery, and it fishes like one.
Fish here don’t grow to Instagram fame overnight. The average Kootenai trout is under 16 inches. I learned from our local guide that a 12-inch fish might be three or even four years old. This isn’t the nutrient-rich Missouri, and that’s okay. This river is for anglers who value the take, the fight, and the wildness of it all over numbers on a tape measure. Redbands here fight like their lives depend on it, and it seems like half their battle happens in the air. Cutthroat are eager, too, and it’s not uncommon to have them rise on a well-drifted dry fly. But make no mistake, this isn’t a DIY river. Hiring a local guide like the crew at Kootenai Angler can turn a good day into a great one.
After my trip, I sat down with Mike Hensler, Fisheries Manager at Montana Fish, Wildlife & Parks, to learn more about the Kootenai’s hometown trout, the Redband. Mike walked me through their unique history and biology, explaining what sets them apart from the standard rainbow trout. For most anglers, telling the two apart can be tricky, but as Redbands mature, their defining features start to stand out: a lean, red-striped body, a thick, powerful tail, and that almost steelhead-like build.
While many Redbands in the Kootenai have mixed genetics, purer strains still thrive in the smaller tributaries, where they show off deeper green tones and vibrant red markings. Mike also mentioned that the department is working to restore a stronger native presence, increasing the number of true Redbands stocked in the area. Right now, they make up only about 20% of the mix, with coastal rainbows still dominating the hatchery releases, but that balance may soon start to shift.
The People and Culture
Libby is the kind of town where everyone seems to know everyone. I realized this pretty quickly as my guide garnered about 20 honks from passing cars in the course of our full-day float trip. To be fair, this guide was not just any regular guide; it was Dave Blackburn.
Dave made his way out west in the late 70s, where he took a seasonal USFS job in the Bighorn Mountains in Central Wyoming. Dave said, “Well, one thing led to another, and I found myself drawn to the west and its big open spaces along with its great trout rivers”. He would continue to go on to open his own fly shop, restaurant, build several rental cabins, and has now been guiding for 40 years. Dave was one of the very first to guide on the Kootenai River, which is what has allowed him the rarity of acquiring a permit to guide this river. His skills do not stop at rowing a drift boat, but can often be seen displayed while playing his banjo at the River’s Bend restaurant after his guide trips.
I would describe the people in Libby as part storyteller, part steward, and part comedian. They know every seam, back eddy, and side channel like they’ve raised them. But what struck me wasn’t just how much they knew, it was how much they cared. They love this fishery, and they’re determined to keep it wild.
Where to Stay, Eat, and Explore
I stayed at the riverside cabins at Kootenai Angler, and if I could, I’d wake up and walk out on that porch every morning for the rest of my life. The cabins, built from locally sourced lumber, have a kind of quiet craftsmanship you don’t see much anymore. I met one of Dave’s longtime friends who helped build them, and the passion and knowledge he helped put into these cabins are simply incredible. Side note, he can also play the guitar just as well as he can chink a cabin.
Waking up in the morning to stepping on the porch to take in the scenery of the Kootenai was absolutely breathtaking. This made access to the water for a morning or late afternoon fishing session quite easy. The cabins at the Kootenai River are also a very short walking distance from the River Bend Restaurant and Saloon.
The River Bend is not just a restaurant but a community hub of Libby, and is actually run by Dave’s wife, Tammy. The food here is the perfect ending to any day on the water, and I can highly recommend getting the burgers. Exploring more of Libby will lead you to other great restaurants, such as the Blackboard Bistro, which features more upscale cuisine. I opted for the Filet Mignon and did not regret that decision one bit.
Beyond fishing, Libby offers no shortage of outdoor adventure. Kootenai Falls is the state’s largest undammed waterfall, accessible via a short hiking trail. If you are feeling bold and want to have a better view of the falls, venture onto the swinging bridge that takes you over the Kootenai River. This set of falls along the Kootenai is actually quite popular and has even made its way to the big screen in films like The River Wild and The Revenant.
Conservation & Local Ethos
Conservation runs deep here. Dave spent a good chunk of our trip talking not just about fish, but about the fights that shaped the Kootenai. When Libby Dam was built in 1975, locals split into two camps: “pave the Kootenai” or “save the Kootenai.” Dave sided with the river and paid the price; someone actually dumped sand in the crankcase of his old Ford truck for it.
The fight for the Kootenai River is far from over. Today, locals continue to push for smarter flow management and long-term solutions to combat persistent algae blooms. Both Dave Blackburn and Mike Hensley spoke about the ongoing struggle against Didymo (Didymosphenia geminata), a stubborn invasive algae that has made its mark on the river.
Didymo, often called “rock snot”, blankets stretches of riverbed, clinging to everything in its path and tangling itself in flies and lures alike. Beyond the annoyance to anglers, it disrupts the river’s delicate ecosystem, choking out the aquatic insects that trout depend on. According to Mike, the most promising solution lies in reintroducing phosphorus that’s currently trapped behind Libby Dam. Restoring these natural nutrients could help rebalance the river and slow the relentless spread of Didymo.
I would say that the local ethos here in Libby is of grit, community, and pride. The people of Libby are clearly hard workers. Many local workers do not work just one job, but rather two or three. Libby is truly the epitome of what a small-town community can be. Residents are helpful, friendly, and very tight-knit. Everyone here looks out for their own. The focus on community over crowds is something that has built up this rural area in Northwest Montana.
The final piece of Libby’s ethos is pride. Pride in the fact that their descendants were the ones who built up this town. Pride in the fact that their rivers are not filled with drift boats. And pride in the fact that there is nowhere they would rather live. I spoke with an employee at the Rivers Bend who is a fifth-generation resident of Libby. She told me that she had briefly left Montana as a teenager to see Texas, but ended up returning to her roots, which were so deeply established in Libby.
Final Thoughts
I wouldn’t call Libby a “hidden gem” because not every gem is meant for everyone. This isn’t a place for the angler chasing a 30-inch brown or a riverside spa. It’s a place for those who value wildness over hype, community over crowds, and honesty over polish. Libby, Montana, is a place where you can go to appreciate those who paved the path here. A path that still feels wild, thoughtfully designed, and deeply ingrained with nature.
