There it was. The image that would open a door to a whole new world for me. Some guy, standing in the river with his fly rod slung over his shoulder, holding an enormous silver fish with a deep red tail; like a super-sized salmon. I had only been flyfishing for a few years but at that moment, I knew I had to experience catching one of those fish on the fly. The fish, a Hucho Taimen, is found only in rivers and lakes in the eastern parts of Russia, Mongolia, and China. Often referred to as the “River Wolf,” the Taimen is the largest member of the salmonoid family. They are an aggressive, predatory fish that will veraciously attack other fish, ducklings, and swimming mice.
BY CRIS ELLER
Both the fascination of this sleek silver monster and its habitat drew me in. Little did I know then that my curiosity in that life-size photo at the Seattle Sportsman Show would lead to an experience of a lifetime that would draw us back to Mongolia several times over the last 18 years. Each time we have joined Mongolia River Outfitters (MRO), one of only a couple of outfitters that the Mongolian government allows to operate catch and release fishing programs on the country’s Taimen waters. We have loved our time in Mongolia so much that my husband, Richard, even joined MRO for 4 years as a guide, leaving every fall for 6 weeks to join the pursuit of this legendary species. On our last trip, we had the privilege of spending 16 days on the river, floating both the upper and lower sections with MRO and their excellent guide staff.
The change we have seen in the country over the years is astounding. On our first trip, Ulan Baatar was a post-soviet city with scars from years of control by the Soviet Union. The road from the airport was a two-lane highway riddled with potholes, the sidewalks were cracked and crumbling, and parks and public spaces were overgrown with brush. Now, 18 years later, we witnessed how much Mongolia has changed. We landed in the sparkling new airport (opened in 2020) and were whisked in to the city on a four-lane freeway, which unfortunately came to a stand-still once we got to the outskirts of the very busy capital, Ulan Baatar. Foreign mining investment has come to town and offered prosperity to many Mongolians and high rise living abounds in the capital city where over 95% of Mongolia’s population lives. Every direction you look, you see high-rise apartment buildings and cranes working diligently to build the next complex. The streets team with young people both day and night and Versace and Louis Vuitton stores have opened just blocks from the monument to Mongolia’s hero, Chinghis Khan (Genghis Kahn to the western world).
Meanwhile life on the Steppe continues in the nomadic tradition that has defined Mongolia for centuries. Herds of sheep, goats, yaks and horses wander freely on the grassy slopes. Once you leave Ulan Bataar, the vast expanse of the countryside is defined by wide open spaces and no fences. An occasional ger (yurt in English) peppers the landscape and serves as the home for rural families. The ger is a testament to the nomadic culture and is easily set up and taken down. The circular structures, covered in heavy woolen felt with bright orange wooden doors, are the common home on the Steppe, even within the small townships referred to as soums. Signs of the modern world have come to the Steppe as well as we saw Mongolians driving their Toyota Prius on the rutty two track roads as frequently as we saw herders on their horses. And after 18 years, cellular service has made it to the most distant places, including the river.
“The scenery is spectacular as you float through the vastness that is the Mongolian Steppe“
What draws us back to Mongolia? The challenge of a well-placed cast to lure a giant Taimen out of the depths or away from the bank to smash a streamer or popper is definitely part of the pull. But it is a much deeper connection with a country that is steeped in tradition and culture that has boldly survived thousands of years. It is the people who share a joy and pride in traditions that date back centuries and still celebrate their greatest leader, Chinghis Khan. Even with the modernization we saw in Ulan Bataar, Mongolians still revere their heritage and the serenity of the vast Steppe. Customary rituals like blessing a trip with yak milk, stopping at an oovo (sacred cairns erected along the roadside) or stepping in to the ger with your right foot are still very much a part of everyday life on the Steppe. Seeing a Mongolian riding his horse in his traditional deel, a colorful robe cinched with a wide belt, is a common sight along the river and in the countryside.
We were fortunate to really immerse ourselves on our last trip. In 16 days you completely slow down and get in the mindset of the simple routine of camp life. The day starts with someone quietly coming in to your ger to light the wood stove while you tuck in under your heavy wool blanket and wait for the air to warm. Breakfast follows with a hardy spread, including deep-fried “snarfully” buns, all prepared on a single wood stove in the kitchen ger. Then gearing up, getting in the drift boat, and spending the day casting as the guide navigates from one holding spot to the next on the river. The scenery is spectacular as you float through the vastness that is the Mongolian Steppe. Fall colors are in full display as aspens and larches shine bright yellow against vivid blue sky. Evenings in the dining ger include storytelling and building new friendships with other guests, finished with a walk back to your ger under the brilliant starlight sky. You fall asleep exhausted yet content. I said it on our first trip and still felt the same 18 years later; “this trip is good for the soul”.
During the first week, we moved down river between the ger camps that MRO sets up at the beginning of the season. The second week we camped in teepees that are packed up daily and pitched at camps along the lower half of the river as you go. In total, we covered 120 kilometers of river, including floating very close to the Russian border where we saw a guard tower and the buildings of a Siberian village in the distance.
One of the joys for us on this trip was the opportunity to see some of our Mongolian friends, including exchanging hugs in chance encounters with some of the guides at the hotel in Ulan Bataar before heading out to the river. MRO boasts a loyal group of Mongolians, Chileans and American guides that have worked on the river for many years, returning each season to a river camaraderie that surpasses the discomforts of long days on the oars and away from their families. We have had the privilege of getting to know many of them personally and witnessing their life transitions.
After the 10-hour drive from Ulan Baatar to camp one, we immediately felt the familiarity and excitement of being back in one of our favorite places. We were thrilled to see our guides that we had fished with on previous trips. While the guests would change from week to week, Jangar (Jack), Zolboo, Marcelo would be with us for the next 16 days.
A unique aspect of fishing with Mongolia River Outfitters is that you fish from Clackacraft drift boats. The American operator of MRO, Mark Johnstad, had ten drift boats shipped from the United States 12 years ago. Standing in the stanchions and looking around, you would think you were floating the Yellowstone River in Montana. The ecosystems of the two regions are very similar with the one exception; trophy Taimen.
“In my excitement I stripped faster and pulled the fly out of the mouth of what was likely a 50+ inch Taimen“
One of the key tenants of MRO and Fish Mongolia is conservation of this bioregion and the protection of the Taimen. MRO works with local communities, educating locals on preservation of the species which is designated critically endangered by the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN). In 18 years, we can see the impact with Monogolian rangers actively patrolling the river banks and far less illegal fishing tackle on the river. The Taimen is a bellwether of the health of the rivers in Eastern Asia and to that end, MRO partners with the Wild Salmon Center in support of the International Taimen Fund with both funding and scientists to study this remarkable fish. A biologist with the Wild Salmon Center joined us during the first week on the river and gathered biopsied samples from the tails and scales of the fish we caught to study their DNA and better understand the river, this magnificent fish and their diet.
Fishing for Taimen involves lots of long casts into seams, cut banks and creeks entering the river. The fish wait in the shadowy water ready to ambush their prey. During high water, large streamers of different colors are the dominant fly and every guide has his personal favorite. Clearer water allows for surface poppers; picture a mouse scooting across a deep pool and watching an explosive take from below; the ultimate sight-fishing thrill!
A wet summer had resulted in higher water levels and more silt, presenting a bit more challenge to finding and targeting Taimen. Regardless, we were anxious to get on the river and start downstream. With the murky conditions, it is tough to know if you have a fish following the streamer until you feel the fish take the fly or see an explosive surface eat. Early in the trip, I was in the front of the boat, casually stripping my 3” black streamer and looking over my shoulder, talking to Jack, our guide. Both Jack and Richard erupted when a gigantic wake came from the shoreline towards my fly, unbeknownst to me. In my excitement I stripped faster and pulled the fly out of the mouth of what was likely a 50+ inch Taimen. The beauty of these fish is they are aggressive predators. They will continue to hunt and may take a fly multiple times, even after being stuck. Jack back rowed over that section of river a few times as we tried to coax that fish up again. No such luck. The one that gets away is always the one you remember and replay in your head over and over; If only I had been paying attention, if only I had been calm, if only I had let out line instead of stripping in my fly, if only I could have one more shot! All the “if onlys”!
I finally landed my first Taimen of size on the 3rd day. With Marcelo at the oars, we were working a sandy delta where a creek was flowing in to the river. After a few grip and grin photos, we got back in the boat and rowed back in to the seam. Richard promptly hooked up with a monster fish only to have him roll, straighten the hook, and disappear in to the dark water. And that was how the fishing went… lots of casting, lots of big takes and an occasional fish to the boat. That being said, we loved every minute of being on the river!
My favorite day on the river was during the second week when our guide, Zolboo, decided to row back upstream to a slow-flowing tributary above where we had camped the previous night. We rowed further upstream on the smaller water and immediately spotted an Amur Pike lurking under a tree. After two or three takes but no hook up, he swam away. We decided to get out of the boat and work the banks up river, in search of Taimen. The brush was high on both sides of the river so throwing a decent cast was challenging. I finally handed my rod to Zolboo and watched as he leaned out from the bank and masterfully cast 60 feet up the 12 foot wide stream. It was an impressive display of his casting skills. We returned to the boat and fished downstream and Richard and I both hooked up on a couple juvenile Taimen, Lenok (similar to a brown trout) an Amur Pike, and an Amur Trout (both species indigenous to Eastern Mongolia).
“I got on my knees in the water with him and said a simple prayer of thanks, admired his broad shoulders, intelligent eyes and bright red tail and then released him back in to the current”.
Lunches on the river are always a treat as the guides prepare hot meals on the shore. No one is rushed as the guests sit together along the river bank, enjoying a glass of wine and taking in the remoteness of this adventure. One thing I cannot resist when I’m on a river bank is skipping rocks. I would hunt the river bank looking for flat stones and stand ankle deep and try to skip them across the river. Thus started the daily ritual when we finished lunch. The guides, the guests and the camp crew would fan out, search for flat stones and then compete with one another to see who could skip their stone the furthest and get the most skips.
One afternoon we were moving along the river with the other guests and trading turns hitting the likely fishing holes along the way. We moved downstream to a converging seam of water and I cast across the incoming channel. As I stripped the last couple yards of my line and began to lift my rod to cast again, a large Taimen took the fly and I was rewarded with a 40” fish, my biggest yet. We took pictures, released the fish, and then resumed fishing the same channel. On my next cast, about halfway across the channel, I had another take and landed a 41” Taimen. I was elated! A few yards and a few casts later, Richard also landed a 40” fish. Three fish over 40” in less than an hour… incredible.
This was the 4th time I have been in Mongolia on my birthday and the camp crew and guides did not disappoint. I was greeted on the morning of my birthday with a package of chocolate cookies from one of the guests, a bouquet of wildflowers from one of the guides and a stack of skipping rocks from another. That day I caught my first Amur Pike. I was pleased to become a member of Jack’s “Pikey Blinders” club. After dinner, the camp chef presented me with a delicious cake made in a dutch oven over the wood stove. We finished the evening with shots of Chinghis Khan vodka. Another celebration, a few years earlier, involved several members of the camp staff donning their deels, gathering around a campfire and singing Mongolian folk songs. It was an honor for me and one of my favorite birthday memories.
The lower part of the river is more challenging to access by vehicle so the camp crew, supplies and gear traveled down river with us on rafts. We would push off every morning, and about an hour later, a flotilla of rafts carrying all our gear and the camp staff would float by. One raft carried all the kitchen supplies and looked like the river version of the Beverly Hillbillies with a wood stove and chimney stacked high on top of piles of gear. They would pass us and by the time we reached the next camp at the end of the day, everything would be set up, including our tent teepees with cots, warm wool Mongolian blankets and all our gear tucked inside.
The early October weather grew colder as we moved down river. At night we heard elk bugling near camp and wolves howling in the distance. We would wake to frozen wading boots and waders and drift boats covered in frost. The dining tent was our refuge from the cold morning air before we bundled up for another day on the river. Fortunately, temperatures rose as the day wore on and we enjoyed warm fall afternoons as we drifted downstream.
Near the end of the trip, we were back with Zolboo as our guide. We were approaching a seam where water moved in to a back eddy when Zolboo confidently proclaimed “there are fish holding here.” Within seconds, I hooked a fat 34” Taimen that gave a great fight. We rowed ashore, released the fish and rowed back upstream to work the seam again. Richard landed a 38” fish and we decided to row up again and give it another go. Having caught a fish and feeling like we had worked that section of river pretty well, I sat down in the back of the boat to watch. Richard urged me to keep fishing so I stood up, cast into the middle of the river and as I stripped the streamer across the seam, the water exploded. It was exhilarating! Zolboo rowed to shore and we netted my biggest Taimen ever and the biggest fish of the trip, a 43” Taimen. I got on my knees in the water with him and said a simple prayer of thanks, admired his broad shoulders, intelligent eyes and bright red tail and then released him back in to the current.
I feel incredibly fortunate to have experienced this “trip of a lifetime” several times. I look forward to returning again; not only for the fishing and experiencing the culture of the Mongolian Steppe but also for the friendships that we have made over the years. I feel a special connection with Mongolia that is timeless and enduring. Returning to the Steppe always brings a sense of joy, solace and adventure. The hospitality in the camps is first rate. The fishing is both challenging and rewarding. But most of all the people; guides, guests, camp crew, make the trip to Mongolia a very special experience. The friendships and memories from the river are lifelong treasures. Good for the soul.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR // Chris Eller and her husband, Richard, reside in Picabo, Idaho where they spend their summers fishing in their home waters in Idaho, Wyoming and Montana. They head south in the winter to chase redfish in Southern Texas. As a couple they combine their passion for flyfishing and travel and have fished in Mongolia, Argentina, Chile, Belize, New Zealand, Christmas Island, Iceland, Canada and Mexico.
