Fishing in the Ozarks

The Pen and the Fly-Rod

2012-02-02T23:14:00.008-06:00

One thing I've learned in two years of fly fishing and as many years of writing about it is that the two pursuits are oddly similar. The same skills that make a good fly fisher also tend to make a good writer; the same mistakes that we make fly fishing are often the cause of poor writing. And both can become an art on those rare occasions when they are done extraodinarly well, but on a day to day basis they more resemble a craft.

I feel like I've actually become a better fly fisher by writing, and vice versa. I know this sounds like an odd thing to say, but I think it actually makes a good deal of sense. Have you ever had one of those days on a trout stream when you're constantly trying to make the long, difficult cast, trying every fly in your box, generally giving it everything you've got, but still coming up empty? On the other hand, have you ever noticed that sometimes when you're not trying so hard, when you're just keeping the fly in the water and leaving the rest to the fish, you actually tend to do pretty well? I know I have noticed these things in my fly fishing. The less fancy I get, the better I usually do. That's because when I keep it simple, I'm just focusing on the basics, the short cast, the easy mend, setting the hook whenever the indicator twitches. Or maybe I'm not focusing on anything at all, but I'm able to "plug in" in a way that's impossible when I'm always trying to make long casts and difficult drifts.

And it's the same with writing. I've noticed when I sit down, bound and determined that I'm going to come up with something really profound, the result usually isn't anything like that at all. The writing sounds forced at those times, with no personality, just some formula that I think is good, but actually takes all of the voice out of my writing. If I'm trying to to write a really good piece, I tend to stifle whatever I'm trying to say with flowery language and unnecessarily long words that break whatever flow the story might have had to start with.

The times that I do manage write pretty well are when I have no particular intentions going in. Often I have no idea what I'm going to write about when I start, other than it's going to have something to do with the outdoors and probably fishing. Before long, some trip, some special place, or some story will come to my mind, and from that point on it's a matter of the words coming to mind and then putting them on the page. I know some people don't look at it this way, but I find that if I think too much about what I'm going to be writing before-hand, it tends to short-circuit this process. It's best to just to go one sentence at a time, and the writing will take care of itself.

Finally, there is the feeling that I get from both writing and fly fishing, which is ultimately the reason why I love both so much. Since doing either one well requires a slow, unhurried pace, and a willingness to let the process work itself out, they tend to be very relaxing. To me, it's this procedure that matters above all else, not whatever results come of either. With fly fishing, the greatest "result" possible is a few fish that will be soon released back into the water. Writing of course can be a way of earning money, but for me right now it isn't in any significant sense. So in the end what matters isn't so much whether you catch a few fish or write an excellent piece, but whether there was anything valuable in the experience.

And there almost always is, if you just slow down and let the process take care of itself.

A Weekend on the Current

2012-01-17T17:30:00.024-06:00

The Baptist Camp stretch of the Current River is like an old friend that I haven't visited in a long time. This part of the Current River is the place where I first learned to fool wily, stream-wise, trout on a fly rod, and I think I'll always have a special attachment to it for that reason. There is no feeling quite so enjoyable as fishing a stretch of river with which you are intimately familiar, the kind of place where you know which rocks the trout like to hide behind, which deep cuts hold the big browns, the locations of unlikely looking runs that hold more fish than one would expect. This was the direction of my thoughts as I started to casually work my way downstream from Baptist Camp.

It’s a Saturday afternoon, about 3 o’clock, and the temperature is in the mid-40s, typical of our mild winter this year. I know it’s going to be a cold camp tonight, but for now I’m very comfortable. I’m tossing a little tri-color egg pattern, the fly I usually go with on the Current when I don’t have a better idea, and it’s working pretty well. The fish are in all of the places I expect them to be, and I’m able to fool my share of them. My rusty fly fishing skills are showing though; I’m missing many more strikes than I’m able to connect on. But that doesn’t seem to matter now, on the first afternoon of a three day trip. There will be plenty of time to get serious later, but at the moment it seems that missing a few fish is pretty inconsequential.

It’s 8 in the morning, and it’s 17 degrees. It may be a mild winter, but it’s still capable of getting cold. Right now I’m finding that out the hard way. My father and I are sitting around the fire in our campsite in Montauk Park; neither of us is in any particular hurry to get on the river until it warms up a bit. After a breakfast of oatmeal and granola bars, we finally head in the direction of Baptist Camp. We've decided to work our way up to Tan Vat, and fish our way back down again. We have not spent much time fishing the water between these two accesses, so we’re looking forward to trying something new.

The Current River above Baptist Camp has a good deal of slow, shallow water. At first glance much of it looks unpromising, and our results early on add to that perception. But when we wade out in to the river to retrieve a snagged fly or to ford the stream, we find ourselves scaring up ridiculous numbers of trout from places that look like they should hold nothing more than chubs or suckers. After that, we start to fish all the water carefully, and sure enough we began to get into to fish. What doesn’t surprise us is that the fishing is far better well away from the two accesses. By the time we make our way back to Baptist Camp, we’ve hooked numerous trout, seen two miles of a strikingly beautiful Ozark trout stream, and we couldn’t possibly be any happier. Now on to camp for chili, a good night’s rest, and the certainty of more good fishing tomorrow.

Camp

2011-11-29T19:30:00.013-06:00

Camp in Colorado's Flat Tops Wilderness near Trapper's Lake

It’s nearly midnight, and I’m laying on a sleeping bag spread out across the rocky ground. I should be asleep now, because we’ll be getting up early to scout the nearby woods for deer sign. But here on Stegall Mountain this night, I can’t bring myself to do that, at least not yet. It’s a clear early fall night, and there has been an impressive meteor shower going for the last couple of hours, bright lights streaming across the heavens. It’s perfect here tonight atop this Ozark peak, in the wilderness of south-central Missouri, almost too perfect really. I pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming, but this is all real, wonderfully real.

It’s the early afternoon of an unusually hot April day. The temperature is hovering in the mid-90s, and I’m sitting in a camp chair, legs in the river. I’d been fishing earlier this morning, and it had been good, the browns and rainbows of the Current River willingly taking nearly every fly I threw at them. But when the heat set in a little after 10 AM, the fishing shut off, “like someone flipped a switch” as my grandfather would say. My father is sitting beside me, pretending to be busy organizing his fly box, but really he’s just relaxing, enjoying these slow hours on the river. Every once in awhile he’ll splash some of the cold water of the river up in my face, trying to be funny, although it actually feels pretty good. There will be some more good fishing this evening when it cools off, and again tomorrow morning. But for now there is no place I’d rather be than right here in camp, feet in the water, listening to the sound of the stream, with the trees on the steep hillsides just beginning to leaf out and the dogwoods and redbuds in full bloom.

It may be early August, but right now I’m very cold, shivering in the thin mountain air. The temperature is chilly, mid-40s, but that’s not why. My brother and I have been fishing Trapper’s Lake here in the high country of Northwest Colorado all evening. It was difficult, to say the least. Trout were rising by the hundreds, by the thousands, but for whatever reason we couldn’t fool any of them. Right at dark I hooked one, a fat 17-inch cutthroat. Unable to land it any other way, I’d waded in to the snowmelt water of the lake, my brother coming with me holding the net. We had eventually landed the fish, but were near hypothermia by the time we reached the car. Now we’re back in camp, and I finally change into some dry clothes. I look up at the towering peaks of the Flat Top Mountains, illuminated by the half-light of the moon and stars. I’m tired, cold, and maybe even a little miserable, but also extraordinarily happy. Then I look to my tent, and make for the inviting warmth of my sleeping bag.

Tomorrow is opening day of deer season, but that’s not what I’m thinking of now. It’s been a hard week at college, and earlier today I’d taken a hard test. I am more than a little nervous, jittery, my mind still back at school, on all the stress there. But now I look up at the sky, through the tall pines that tower above my head. The eery sound of the wind as it blows through the pines, the brightness of the full moon, and the utter wildness of this corner of the Ozark removes these thoughts, makes me understand that none of these things really matter. Now the calmness inherent in this place has filled me, brought me almost to a different state of consciousness. The simply beauty and poetry of these wilderness camps always does this for me, stills my mind, shows me what is really important.

Just Another Little Creek

2011-11-08T11:58:00.001-06:00

There is a seventy- acre tract of public land just about four miles from my dorm at the University of Missouri. I first came across this area early this fall, when I was running on a trail just outside of town. I saw the yellow sign that indicated Missouri Department of Conservation ownership, and promised myself I would check it out the next day.

So the next morning, I took my schoolbooks out of my backpack and replaced them with an ultra-light spinning rod, a small tackle-box, and a light lunch. An hour or so later, I arrived, and found a pretty little stream that wound around the entire boundary of the conservation area. I had heard the name of this creek mentioned before, but not for its fishing potential. Rather, I’d heard about its chronic problems with pollution, caused by a nasty mixture of agricultural chemicals and urban run-off. Here, the creek showed no visible signs of being so impaired, but looked deceptively pristine, flowing slowly and gracefully in a winding channel past bluffs and through thick riparian habitat.

So I decided to try a few casts. To my pleasant surprise, I soon caught several smallmouth bass. Smallmouth bass normally need relatively unpolluted water and good, moving current. This stream had a decided shortage of both, but as a fisherman you eventually learn to accept the gift without asking too many questions.

I kept walking out to this area to fish over the next couple of months, checking out new water, trying to figure out exactly what this stream had to offer. What I found was that this polluted little creek was shockingly full of life. The areas with steady current held smallmouth bass and the colorful longear sunfish. In the deep, rocky pools, I found largemouth bass and green sunfish. The shallow, muddy flats boiled with surfacing carp. This stream, so damaged that most people passed it off as little more than a barren ditch, supported an entire diverse ecosystem. I found this to be incredibly satisfying; there’s nothing quite like finding a stream that is hiding in plain sight.

Lately, as the weather has cooled and the fishing has begun to wind down, I’ve taken to exploring this area without a fishing rod. I find this to be nearly as rewarding. Just as this stream supports a vast quantity of aquatic life, it also allows wildlife to thrive. Few outings have gone by where I haven’t seen deer; the area is also home to a large number of turkey that love to hide in the thick brush along the creek. Smaller animals are abundant as well. I always see countless squirrels, rabbits, and various songbirds. Often-times I will see a Great Blue Heron perched on a rock just above the stream, waiting for a careless carp or creek chub to present itself. What makes this poignant is that this small conservation area is an island in a sea of development. It is surrounded on almost all sides by subdivisions, land that has been mowed, paved, and built-over to the point that it cannot support wildlife in a meaningful way.

Spending so much time in a place like this has allowed me to see conservation in a different light. The conservation movement has so often been focused on wilderness protection, on keeping the roadless, intact back-country well preserved. This is a noble and worthy effort, but we should not forget about these little pockets of wildness in and around areas that are heavily developed. These places must be protected, not because they are pristine or extraordinarily beautiful, but because they are the only chance many will have to experience and learn about nature. These are the places we can go to and relax and unwind after a particularly difficult day at school or work. Places like this are perfect to teach people about the value of the outdoors, about the healing qualities that come from spending time in the woods and fields, out of sight and sound of the busy city streets that so many call home. The only way that the general public is going to actually care about protecting true wilderness is if they have experienced nature before, close to home. These little pieces of wildness must be protected, because in them lie the future of the conservation movement.

Fall in the Ozarks

2011-10-18T16:21:00.014-05:00

Fall is a wonderful time here in Missouri. Certainly it is my favorite season. With the combination of the sea of yellow, orange, and red in the forest, the crystal clear water on the rivers, and the chill in the air, October has to be the best month of the year! I've been getting out quite a bit, enjoying the fall colors and the excellent fishing this season is so blessed with, and I thought I would share some pictures from those outings. The first set of pictures were taken at Rudolph Bennitt Lake. Rudolph Bennitt is not actually in the Ozarks, located in the North-central Missouri near Moberly, but it is a beautiful lake and the terrain is reminiscent of Ozark country in southern Missouri. We camped and fished here in early October, and we found it to be a wonderful little lake and Conservation area.

These next pictures were taken at Huzzah Creek. Huzzah Creek is a picture perfect Ozark stream, a clear little creek that flows through beautiful country and holds a lot of smallmouth, although it doesn't seem to hold many fish much larger than 10 inches. Still a great place to fish.

Hope you all enjoyed the photos. Fall is a wonderful season, and it will pass quickly. So get out and enjoy the colors and the great fishing while it lasts!

Felt Soles Banned in MO

2011-08-31T08:53:00.009-05:00

The Missouri Department of Conservation decided in their commission on August 25 and 26 to ban the use of felt soles on the state's trout waters. Here is the exact wording: "Banning the use of porous soled waders or footwear incorporating or having attached a porous sole of felted, matted, or woven fibrous material when fishing in trout parks and other specific trout waters."

The reason for this ban is to help prevent the spread of Didymo, also known as "rock snot". Didymo is an algae that grows on the rocks in the streambed, and can greatly reduce the numbers of aquatic insects in a stretch of stream. What is not clear about the MDC ban is when it will take effect, and exactly what "specific trout waters" are. This would lead me to believe that felt would be banned in all of the trout parks, blue, white, and red ribbon areas, as well as Lake Taneycomo, but there is no way to be 100% sure.

This is a very important issue to trout fisherman, because many of us have relied on the use of felt soles for years. I am sure over the coming days the Missouri Department of Conservation will answer some of our questions so we can have a better understanding of this new regulation.

For information straight from the Missouri Department of Conservation, check out this link.

August 2011 Conservation Action

Colorado Trip

2011-08-12T20:52:00.017-05:00

My brother and I returned from a trip to the Flat Tops Wilderness in Northwestern Colorado. It was a really good trip. We saw lots of beautiful country, caught plenty of pretty trout, and had a great time in some of the most wild country left in the lower 48.

We arrived at our campground near Trappers Lake on the night of Sunday, August 6th. To give you some idea of the change in climate, it was exactly 100 degrees just east of Denver. When we got to the Flat Tops at elevation 9700, the temperature was 45 degrees. Quite a change, and for the better if you ask me!

On our first morning there, August 8, we got out on Trappers Lake about 9 AM after getting our canoe rental set up through the Trappers Lake Lodge. Trappers Lake is absolutely stunning. It is rimmed by 11,000-12,000 foot flat topped mountains on all sides. There was some pine and aspen forest, but most of the trees are dead. That is due to a wildfire in 2002 that burned most of the area. That doesn't sound all that scenic, but the actual effect is just the opposite. Where there used to be forest, there are now lush mountain meadows with a dazzling array of wildflowers. It is pink, purple, yellow, and red everywhere.

Trappers Lake in the Flat Tops Wilderness

It was a good thing that we were so taken aback by the scenery that morning, because fishing-wise, the lake was dead. There was too much wind, and not a single trout was rising. In a 280 acre lake where the trout tend to school up, you're really going to struggle if you can't target specific fish. We stayed out on the lake until about noon, trying everything in our fly box, failing to get so much as a bite, and still having a great time. After that we ate some lunch, and began strategizing about where we might find some feeding fish.

We decided on the upper reaches of the North Fork of the White River. The North Fork flows out of the lake, into one of the most beautiful meadows on the face of this earth. It was illegal to fish right at the outlet where there always seemed to be some big cutthroats rising, but soon it dropped down into one of the most beautiful meadows that you could ever hope to see. My brother and I headed down to where it was legal to fish, and started fishing some very nice riffle water. Now this is called a river, but up near Trappers Lake, it just isn't. It's just a small stream, similar in magnitude to Mill Creek or the Little Piney around Lane Spring. It was just full of small brookies and cutthroat, and we had no trouble hooking into our share of them, even though it was the middle of the day. The fly of choice was a #16 Beadhead Pheasant Tail, fished about two feet under a stick-on Palsa indicator. Besides the smaller trout, I was surprised by one pretty nice cutthroat that got off at the last second. There was some slow meadow water downstream that looked fishy, but in the mid-day sun we couldn't do anything there.

The North Fork of the White near camp was small water with equally small brookies

That evening we got back out on Trappers. When we got down to the lake around 6:30, trout we're rising everywhere. We got in the boat, and tied on small dry flies that were at least rough imitations of the midges the trout were eating, and began fishing. But let me tell you our imitations were not good enough. Those big cutthroat trout inspected our flies carefully, and refused every imitation we threw at them. It was more than a little frustrating to watch native trout in the 15-20 inch range rising all around us, and not be able to hook a single one. We appreciated the beauty of it all the same. Just as the rise was getting really good, and the surface of the lake was beginning to seem like one big rise-form, the wind kicked up, blowing the bugs off the water and putting the trout down. The wind for about 15 minutes was too bad to fish in before it settled down as quickly as it started. But the bugs didn't come back, and the trout didn't start rising again in earnest. I switched to a #16 Pheasant Tail Soft Hackle, thinking I didn't have much chance but not wanting to give up anyway. And just as the light was fading, I did catch one classic Trappers Lake native strain cutthroat, a beautiful 15 inch fish that put up one of the more exciting fights that I have ever experienced. What a day that was.

The next morning we decided to drive further down the North Fork to fish down where it flows into a shallow canyon. Where we went was just a few miles downstream from the little creek like water we'd been on the day before, but boy was it different! This was an honest to goodness western river, fast, powerful, and a little dangerous. We didn't find much holding water or many trout, but it was still a very cool place to see.

Typical whitewater in the canyon of the North Fork

Then we got a wild hair to hike up one of the 11,000+ foot peaks I had mentioned earlier. We picked one of the few that looked like it could be done without climbing gear, and that had a trail to its base. I said to its base. The hike up the main slope was a real scramble, one of the harder things I've done in a long time. We pretty much had to get on our hands and knees and claw up the last 200 yards or so. These things are never as easy as you think they will be! But the view was worth it. You could see much of the North Fork of the White Valley, as well as Trappers Lake, our campsite, and several other high mountain lakes. And all of these things looked like little specks in the distance.

The view from the mountain of the Flat Tops Wilderness

After the hike, we ate some food and went out on Trappers again. By this time it was about 5 PM. We stayed out there long enough to realize that the wind wasn't going to die down, and there wasn't going to be much of an evening rise on the lake. But after docking the canoe and hiking back to the car, we went to back to the upper stretches of the North Fork. Remember that meadow water I told you about that wasn't any good mid-day. Well it was full of rise forms, trout rising to a heavy midge hatch. They weren't easy either like the trout in the riffles upstream. It took all the skill we had to land a few of the cutthroat in that stretch, mostly because it required the use of small flies. I don't think that #20s, the smallest dries we had, were really small enough. But we did tempt some small, overeager trout on #20 Black Gnats. And in this pretty of a setting, that was plenty to feel pretty good about things.

The next and last day we hiked back into the canyon of the North Fork. There just had to be some holding water somewhere, and we wanted to find it. We headed to a slightly different stretch of river and began the rather long, arduous hike in. But it did end up being worth it. The main channel was still pretty much too fast and crazy to be any good, but there were some side channels and pools around dead-fall that held some nice trout. My brother and I both hooked and lost good sized cutthroat, but the fish we landed were smaller brook trout.

A brook trout from the North Fork of the White

We got back to camp around two, ate, and relaxed a little. Then we went back down to the upper reaches of the North Fork near camp. We picked up a few more brookies on beadheads. After that, we took in the scenery on our last night in this beautiful, wild, and rugged country. As the last light faded behind the mountains, I thought to myself that this had been one heck of a trip, something that I wouldn't forget for a long, long time.

A Mid-Summer Night

2011-07-26T23:28:00.001-05:00

Am I the only one lately who has been discouraged from fishing by this heat-wave? I mean, when temperatures are getting up to 100 degrees on a regular basis, and not dropping below 85 or so until late at night, I can find it somewhat difficult to get myself out of the door and go fishing. I know it'll be hot, the mosquitos will be out in force, and the water will be warm enough that the fishing probably won't be very good. I haven't been fishing this week nearly as much as I usually do in the warm months (today was only my second evening out this week). I keep thinking to myself that if things go as planned, in a little over a week I'll be in the Colorado high country, and out there I can do all the fishing I want without this darned heat. I really had to convince myself not to just sit around home this evening, but I was sure glad I did.

I got down to the lake that lies just a few hundred yards from my home around 8 P.M. The water in this little arm of the lake was very weedy and warm. It was a pretty night, but conditions didn't look good. I had an Olive Woolly tied on, and I was half-heartedly casting in the shallow water, working the fly pretty quickly to keep it above weeds. I hooked into a couple of small sunfish, about par for the course on this water this time of year. I keep working this water for quite awhile, and no more results.

I was just getting ready to try somewhere else when I got another take. For a moment I thought it was just another 5 inch sunny, but when I set up, I realize that isn't the case at all. I was tight to a heavy fish, and before I had much clue what was going on, my five weight was bent double, and that was when I realized that I had something pretty special on the end of the line. The fish stayed out of sight and headed down into the weeds, and I was forced to put some pressure on to avoid him getting buried in the muck. I was just about all the 4 pound test I was using for tippet could stand, but I managed to keep him out of the worst of the weeds, and a couple minutes later I saw the fish. I knew all along this was a good fish, but when I saw it blew my mind. This fish was one of the biggest largemouth bass that I had ever been tied into, and easily the biggest that I had hooked on a fly rod. 21, 22 inches of fat, mean largemouth, connected to me with nothing more than four pound tippet and a #10 Woolly, and plenty of weeds for him to get buried in. If that isn't a recipe for disaster, then I don't know what is. But I was able to bring him in to the dock, so close, the largest fly rod bass of my life. He was tired out, ready for the net, and I reached down to close the deal. But as so often happens, when he saw that net, this fish decided that he still had a little bit of starch left in him, and took a hard run at the last second. And then just like that he was gone. After the initial shock (and maybe an expletive or two) I have to admit that I just started laughing. I mean, here it was a night when by all rights I shouldn't have hooked into anything more substantial than a few small sunfish, and here I just had a look at one of the largest bass I have seen in quite awhile. Who cares if he didn't make it the extra few inches to the net? He would have ended up back in the water after a short interval anyway.

After that I decided that I had all the excitement I needed for the evening, and it was almost completely dark. So I decided to finish off with a little bit of dry fly fishing which is always fun on late evenings like this. In this type of situation I usually like to skate a Marabou Muddler across the surface, and that's what I did this time. I had a great time until after dark catching small bass and panfish on the surface. To say that I was surprised at the results of this evening would be an understatement. But more than that, isn't fly fishing just such a great excuse to just be outside and watch the sunset? Sometimes it's possible to get so caught up in the catching or the lack of the lack of catching that it's possible to forget why you're really out there. But there's nothing like a nice evening on familiar water to put things back in perspective.

Cicadas

2011-06-08T10:59:00.000-05:00

Image via Wikipedia
Fly fisherman are inherently crazy. Our warped way of looking at the world makes us believe that it is entirely worth while to pretty much make it your life's purpose to get on the water as much as possible, to unquestionably believe that it is worth while to drive two hours to a trout stream when you can catch bass bluegill in your back yard, and to consider what most people would call an infestation to be welcome, because it gets the fish rising.

Right now the thirteen year Cicadas are hatching, infesting, and buzzing their way across the Ozark region. In the middle of the day when they are loudest, it is barely possible to hear anything else in the woodlands near my home. The bugs seemingly have no problem attaching themselves to humans, and the fact that they do not bite doesn't seem to be much of a comfort when one of these massive, prehistoric looking bugs lands on your face. But the fact of the matter is they fall into the water of every area lake, river, and stream in massive numbers, and they get the fishing looking up in a way that I have not seen before in my lifetime.

So I have been spending a lot of time on the lake near my home, casting Dave's Hoppers (which is not a very close imitation of a Cicada, but it seems to be close enough) catching about as many crazed, frenzied bass and bluegill as I want to. It makes me think that this must at least vaguely resemble what a salmon fly hatch is like on a western river: fast, crazy fishing for fish that are keyed into the surface. It has been so good that two nights ago when I went out on a canoe on one of the local ponds, I was absolutely sure that I would have no difficulty whatsoever landing as many fish as I pleased on a Dave's Hopper. Sure enough, the fish were rising like crazy to the Cicadas, but for some reason I just couldn't draw more than just a few half-hearted rises to my dry fly. I guess this showed me that whenever I think that I have the fish wired, they have a way of showing me that I don't actually know nearly as much as I thought I did. So on the assumption that like fisherman, fish are also essentially insane, I tied on exactly the wrong fly for these rising fish, an Olive Woolly Bugger, and proceeded to catch fish like crazy. You know how it is.

Spring on the Current

2011-04-10T20:05:00.006-05:00

The thermometer read 83 degrees as we drove through the town of Rolla, on our way to the Current River. After an unusually hard winter, spring came on us quickly, budding the dogwoods, blooming the flowers, and leafing out the trees all in the blink of an eye seemingly. Actually, it felt more like summer outside. By the time we pulled into our campsite on the lower reaches of the Current River's Blue Ribbon Area, it was almost completely dark, but it was warm, almost hot outside. My father and I each set up our one man tents in about fifteen minutes, and then we gathered up a little bit of dead wood and started a fire. My father and I sat around the fire ring, and talked to each other about how happy we were to be where we were. We talked a little about what we expected the fishing to be like the next day, and then we grew quiet. The river made a churning sound as it rolled through a gentle riffle about 20 yard from camp. Bullfrogs croaked, and an owl started hooting at us. After listening to this natural symphony for about an hour or so, we turned in for the night with the promise of fishing the Current River the next morning.

The Current River just downstream from Camp

I woke up about 5 A.M. the next morning to hear thunder and see the flash of lightning. Rain was making a pitter-pattering noise as it bounced off my rain fly. I wondered how long this had been going on, and how long it would last. I began to worry that the river would rise and become off color, making the next day's fishing difficult. And I couldn't fish at all in a thunderstorm, not if I wanted to live to fish another day.

Trout Camp on the banks of the Current River

These concerns turned out to be entirely unfounded. When I got out of my tent at 6:30, the clouds were already clearing, and the thunder and lightning was gone. The river hadn't risen at all. Within 15 minutes I was casting an egg pattern in the riffle below camp. I soon had a nice rainbow on, but I got too excited and yanked the fly right out of his mouth. I cast for another ten minutes or so without a strike, and then I hooked up again. This time is was a good sized brown trout, and it immediately started making for a root-was on the opposite side of the river. It wrapped me around the root was and broke off before I could do anything.

By this time I wasn't feeling too confident with my fishing ability. I was pretty sure that I was going to keep hooking up and losing them all day long-you know how it is when you blow a couple chances early on in the day. It wasn't long until I got a chance to disprove this. I was fishing the head of a long, slow pool maybe a hundred yards below camp when I got a hard take. The fish took a hard run, and then went towards the surface. That's when I saw that this fish also was a brown, and a pretty good one. I got fairly nervous, but I was able to keep control this time. After a long fight that took me many yards downstream to the tail of the pool, I brought a beautiful 15" brown to net. All of a sudden I was feeling pretty good again.

A picture of the pool where the 15" brown was landed

I kept catching trout pretty steadily, all rainbows after that first brown, until about 10:30 A. M., when it just got too hot for good fishing. Then I went back in the woods near camp and spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon in the shade reading, eating jerky and trail mix, and occasionally falling asleep. Time passed slowly, but I didn't mind. I was in no hurry for this day to be over.

Finally at 5:00, I got back out on the river. The fishing was very, very slow until about 6:30, with no fish landed in this time period and only a couple strikes. But from about 6:30 to dark, the fishing really picked up, and I was able to pick up some more rainbows before dark, again on egg patterns. Then we headed back to camp, heated up a couple cans of chili, and went to sleep. I am not sure my head hit the pillow before I started snoring.

Wild flowers abound on the banks of the Current

River

The next morning, I woke up a few minutes after sunrise and headed out on the river right away. I managed to catch a few more rainbows, fishing the same places and using the same techniques that I had used the day before. Then about 10:30, just as the day started to get too hot for good fishing, we broke camp, and decided to head in the general direction of home. We decided to go a little out of the way so we could check out Welch Spring. Welch Spring (and the Current River in that area), is strikingly beautiful.

Welch Spring

The river there below the spring is very deep, green, and swift, and is pretty solid trout water too. But we weren't fishing then, just checking out the scenery. And there is plenty to see. Welch Spring is the second largest along the Current River, and it doubles the size of the river. There is also an old, partially fallen-down health resort from many, many years ago. It was the perfect place to end an excellent visit to the Current River.

Ozark Fly Sales Update!

2011-03-15T20:08:00.000-05:00

Well, Ozark Fly Sales is now open and ready for business on our sister site, Family-Outdoors.Com, a full two weeks ahead of schedule. All of the flies that we sell are high quality hand-tied flies, and we offer all of the fly patterns that are essential on Ozark trout streams.

We offer individual flies for just 60 cents apiece, which is a lower price than you are going to find in any area fly shop. Some of the nymphs, streamers, and wet flies that we offer include Hare's Ear Nymphs, Pheasant Tail Nymphs, Stonefly Nymphs, Egg Patterns, Elk Hair Caddis, San Juan Worms, Woolly buggers, and several others. The dry flies we offer include Griffith's Gnats, Elk Hair Caddis, Adams, Parachute Adams, Royal Wulffs, and Dave's Hoppers.

This selection of flies includes pretty much all of the flies that you are going to need on Ozark streams. Remember, these are true hand-tied flies, so why pay more somewhere else for the exact same fly?

On top of this we offer Ozark Nymph/Streamer Packages and Ozark Dry Fly Packages. The Nymph/Streamer Package includes 25 flies for just $12.50, and the Dry Fly Package includes 20 flies for $10. That is just 50 cents a fly, which is less than half of what you are going to pay at most fly shops for the exact same flies. All transactions are through PayPal. To order your flies, go to Ozark Fly Sales at Family-Outdoors.com. Here are pictures of just a few of the flies we offer.

(Top row left, Griffith's Gnat, top right, Peach Egg Pattern, second row left Elk Hair Caddis, second row right Black Woolly bugger, bottom row Beadhead Hare's Ear.)

Winter or Spring?

2011-03-14T19:46:00.000-05:00

Today is March 14, 2011. On Saturday, the temperature got up to 70 degrees, and I went fishing at the local winter trout pond in shorts and a t-shirt. It was a bright sunny day, and it was just pure bliss to be sitting at lake's shore in a lawn chair, reading John Gierach while waiting for the line on my pole to go tight. Given the fact that the trout had been picked pretty well over for the last couple months, it took pretty nearly all day to get my limit of three rainbows, but I was happy about that. I was so happy to be sitting out there, looking at the new spring grass and the first flowers of the year to bloom. Old Man Winter was finally gone, and it wouldn't come back for another eight or nine months.

Or not. Today, just two days after spending a day on the water in my shorts and t-shirt, I woke up to find 4" of wet, sticky snow on the ground, and the temperature hovering right around freezing. It kind of seemed that the proverbial "Old Man Winter" was flexing his muscles one last time for the year, just to prove that he was still capable.

As a fisherman waiting and waiting for the first good warm-water fishing of the year to begin, I guess I should be upset right now. This snow and the cold water that will find its way into the lakes and streams will set things back a good bit, even though temperatures are supposed to warm right up starting tomorrow. But a spring snow is just to beautiful and poignant of a thing to get upset about. It shows the power of nature to completely transform itself in a matter of hours, from a bright friendly world where the first plants of spring are starting to shoot up to the cold hard reality of winter. When I was up in a little clearing in the woods today, I cleared the snow off of a little patch of ground, and I could see the green grass under there, looking a little bit miserable, but also looking like it would survive the short stretch of cold weather to see another day.

Tomorrow spring returns. It is supposed to get up into the mid-50s, then the 60s the next day, and almost to 80 degrees on Thursday. So we will get back our beautiful spring weather as quickly as we lost it. Still, this spring snow is a reminder of the power of nature to change always, even when it's not always the most convenient for us as a fisherman.

Ozark Trout Fly Sales

2011-02-28T10:04:00.000-06:00

Starting on April 1st, our sister website, Family-Outdoors.com will offer hand-tied fly packages specifically assembled for Ozark area trout fisherman. We will be offering Ozark Dry Fly Packs, which features 20 flies for $20, and Ozark Nymph and Streamer Packs, which is a 25 fly set for $25. These are high quality, hand-tied flies, and the price speaks for itself-you'll pay more for these flies at just about any area fly shop.

For the nymph and streamer set, Copper Johns, San Juan Worms, Egg Patterns, Hare's Ears, Pheasant Tails, Woolly Buggers, and many other flies will be offered. For the dry fly set, some of the flies offered are Griffith's Gnats, Parachute Adams, Adams, Elk Hair Caddis, and Royal Wulffs. We have everything you need in these fly packages for day in and day out fishing on Ozark trout streams!

For more information, visit the Ozark Fly Sales web-page at http://family-outdoors.com/Fly-Fishing-Sales.html

Missouri Trout Streams Photo Montage

2011-02-27T19:45:00.000-06:00

This is just a photo montage from some of our trips to the trout streams in the Missouri Ozarks, especially the Current River, Eleven Point River, Little Piney Creek, and Montauk Park. The video is mostly scenery, but some fish pictures too. Enjoy!

http://family-outdoors.com/

Fishing in the Adirondacks 2010

2011-02-19T21:58:00.000-06:00

Here is a short (four minute) picture collage from our trip to the Adirondack Mountains in July 2010. I just decided to play around a little on Windows Movie Maker and here is the result.

Enjoy.

To Spring

2011-02-11T19:51:00.000-06:00

As I sit here typing this, there are still 3-4 inches of snow blanketing the ground around my house, but the bite of cold air was missing today for the first time in weeks. The temperature today reached a glorious 38 degrees, and it's only going to get better. Tomorrow it's supposed to be 45, and the next day 50. There is not a single day in the 10 day forecast that is predicted to have a high of less than 45 degrees. Given the fact that it's mid-February already, I am beginning to wonder if this is just a winter thaw or the real deal-an early beginning of spring.

A spring-time view up Blue Spring Creek,

taken while trout fishing on March 25, 2010 just as the first

buds of the year were forming on the trees

It's easy to let hope of that run wild. It has been the hardest winter Missouri has seen in at least a decade, and possibly longer. Most winters around here there is snow on the ground for a fair percentage of the time, but not many days have gone by since mid-December when there hasn't been at least several inches of the white stuff on the ground. And we have had several nights where the temperature got below zero-just yesterday the thermometer registered -4 degrees just after dawn. So with some above average temperatures on the way, it can really set one to wondering if Old Man Winter has finally let go of his grip. Honestly, that's probably not the case. We'll have some more cold days, and possibly even some more accumulating snow. But the thaw is beginning, and in any case, spring isn't very far off.

And spring in the Ozarks is a wonderful thing. As soon as we get our first warm spring rain, which usually occurs around the first week of March, the bass and bluegill awake from a three month long sleep. The first warm-water fishing of the year is inconsistent, and usually pretty hard work, but it can be very rewarding. The first bass or bluegill of the year is always a cause of great celebration for me.

Then about late March, the wild flowers and the dogwoods bloom, and the trees bud out. This is a truly magic time of year in Missouri. The world is so full of color, so alive after seeming so dormant for so long. No matter how many springs you have seen, each one feels like the first, and this season of the year makes you feel more alive than at any other time. And by now the fishing is in full swing. The bass and bluegills are starting to take topwater flies in the evenings, and they are eager to take subsurface fare all day long. The air is supremely comfortable, neither hot nor cold, and the world seems pretty much perfect in all respects.

Then it comes toward the beginning of May. All the trees are leafed out now, and the Ozark forests have begun to resemble a jungle, thick with all manner of underbrush. The fish have begun their spawning now. The bass are on their beds, and you get to see some of the largest fish of the year, right in front of your eyes and vulnerable. But I don't fish for them, for both fishery reasons, and just because for some reason I've felt pretty cheap the few times I have ripped the big female bass off their beds. But that ethic, at least for me, vanishes when it comes to the bluegill and redear that live in the ponds near my home. They are pretty easy to tempt with any manner of small wet fly, nymph, or streamer, and the big ones fight like good sized bass on my light fly rod. When I keep them, their fillets are crisp and delicious.

Then there is the spring trout fishing. Spring can be the best and the worst time for trout fishing in Missouri. At it's best, spring fishing can offer some of the best hatches of the year, particularly caddis and olives, and the water temperatures will be perfect for the trout to be feeding actively. When this happens, the fishing is nothing short of glorious, and can produce the kind of days that you'll never forget. At it's worst, spring trout fishing can be non-existent, with the very real possibility of high and muddy water. But the good days usually make it worth it.

The truth is, spring is not really a season, but a time of transition. The early part of it still seems like winter, still cold and dreary, but it slowly transforms into the time of budding flowers, dogwoods, spawning bluegills, and a great sense that the world itself is awakening from the great sleep called winter.

Breaking the Ice

2011-01-16T10:52:00.001-06:00

I am a fly fisherman. 90% of my fishing is done with a fly rod, and a fly, preferably with a dry fly. And I am also almost exclusively a catch and release fisherman. But I break all those rules in winter when the big freeze comes, and fishing options become much fewer. For a mile from my house, there is a small pond that is stocked each winter with rainbow trout.

A 19.5 inch rainbow from said trout pond

It is frozen most of the winter, so usually the only way to fish it is to go out on the dock, break a hole through the ice with an ice pick, and dangle a hook baited with Powerbait through the hole. Fly fishing isn't even possible, and it probably wouldn't be very effective even if it was. This is not the kind of fishing that will keep you up at night in anticipation, but it is the only game in town this time of year (when there isn't time to go somewhere like the Current River), and it does have it's own sort of charm.

So I've been sitting out on that dock quite a bit lately, dangling my line through a little hole in the ice, waiting for the rod to twitch with a bite. Sometimes I'm waiting there a matter of hours between bites, where I reel up to check the bait every half hour or so, but for the most part I just watch and wait. This is the sort of fishing where it's a good idea to bring a book along, and that is really what keeps the slow times from being dreadfully boring. But in any case, it's better than sitting inside, and it is fishing, at least in a since. If the weather is warm (above freezing), it will be very pleasant, but things can get a little grim when the temperatures is in the low 20s or colder. Not only do you freeze your hands off in this kind of weather, but you also have to constantly stir around the water in the hole to keep it from re-freezing.

But then the bite comes. It almost always does, although on a slow day it's possible to get no more than one or two. First you'll see the line jiggling around a little, and then the pole starts to vibrate up and down on the dock. That's when you set the hook. The fish will make a little dive toward bottom, and it's best to let it tire itself out for awhile. When it get's a little tired, you reel it up onto the ice, and then bring it onto the dock. The fish probably swallowed the hook, so you'll keep it. The limit is three on that pond, and if I can catch that many Iusually don't feel bad about taking that many home. They'll all be baked and eaten by the end of the day. And don't believe what they say about stocked trout tasting bad-if you bake them with lemon and butter, wrapped in foil, they're a regular treat. And why not keep them? They'll die when it warms up in spring anyway.

When spring does come, and there are other options, the little ultralight Powerbait fishing rod will be put away for the year. It will be back to the fly rod, and the hoppers and the woolly buggers, and the Pheasant Tail Nymphs. Back to the roll cast and the double haul, and all the grace, poetry, and complications that go with fly fishing. But for now, I' m plenty happy sitting on the dock, waiting for a bite, and generally having a great time with this hillbilly trout fishing thing.

Thoughts on 2010

2011-01-05T19:22:00.000-06:00

As we start a new year, I suppose now is as good of time as any to sort of think back on the 2010 fishing season. For me, it was one of the most interesting and enjoyable years of fishing I've had in a very long time. This year, I feel like I really learned to become skilled with the fly rod. I have been fly fishing casually for quite awhile now, but in 2010, I finally decided to make it be my primary method of fishing. And to be honest with you, it wasn't any particular revelation on my part that caused me to do that. It was a book that I got for Christmas in 2009, "Death Taxes, and Leaky Waders" by John Gierach. It was that book that showed fly fishing could be more of a way of looking at life and seeing the world than a simple method of fishing. And I was absolutely hooked from that point on.

As far as big trips in 2010, there was only one for me. That was to the Adirondacks in Northern New York, in late July. I had been up to that area before, but this was my first time with a fly rod. The fishing conditions were actually pretty poor on that trip (temperatures were far above normal and there was a terrible drought) but still I got the chance to experience some great fly fishing up there. It was just different from what I was expecting, as most of the fishing ended up being for the warm-water species ( primarily smallmouth bass) that didn't mind the hot weather. It was also on that trip that I managed to catch my first native brook trout on a fly-rod (a 10" beauty from the West Branch of the Ausable) which I found to be pretty cool as well.

Then there were the trips to the Ozark streams, of which there were many. I managed to get down to the Current River a lot in 2010, and I really feel like I've come to know that river well. I fished the Current the whole year, from the sparse midge hatches in February to the hopper bite in September. Even though I feel like I learned that river pretty well, it still managed to stump me as often as not. Also there were quite a few trips throughout the year to the wild trout streams, primarily Blue Springs and Little Piney. I fished Little Piney enough this year to know that you only really need one fly-a #16 Hare's Ear- whether you happen to be there in the dead of winter or the heat of August.

Then there were hundreds of hours spent on the ponds near home, fishing for bass and bluegill, mostly with the fly rod. These are the ponds that formed most of my day to day fishing, especially between April and November. These ponds are not great fisheries-the bluegills are stunted and there aren't as many bass as there should be-but they are completely dependable, and I can got out there any time during the warm months with a Woolly Bugger or a Dave's Hopper and pretty much count on catching fish. And while these ponds are familiar, they still continue to teach me new things, as well as giving me the opportunity to try new things that I wouldn't get around to on better water where there is more pressure. In other words, these ponds are mediocre fisheries, but I'm not sure I could live without them.

2010 was a great year of fishing. Here's to hoping 2011 will be better.

Thoughts on Missouri Winter

2010-12-14T19:24:00.000-06:00

Image via WikipediaIt's a bit chilly outside. The temperature this morning when I walked out the door was 3 degrees, and the high was a balmy 21 degrees. Three inches of snow covers the floor of the forest near my home, and it's really quite beautiful. I bundled up as much as possible last afternoon, and got out for a short hike out my back door. Not for any specific purpose really, but just because I can't bear to let a good snow go by without getting out to enjoy it for awhile. I went to a thick cedar grove a hundred yards above my house, and it was was full of life. As soon as I came into the cedar grove, I spotted a large flock of robins, and soon after, and hawk came in, looking for dinner. The robins let out a call of distress and scattered. It was no coincidence they were hiding in the cedar grove. The evergreen boughs offer a little bit of insulation-just enough to make life a little more comfortable during this cold spell. This little scene set me to thinking. Human beings are capable of complaining greatly about the cold, but for most of us it is nothing more than passing inconvenience. For these animals, it is life and death. They were reduced to hiding in a grove of evergreens simply to glean a little reviving warmth, and were chased away from this meager comfort by a predator. It made the fact that my hands and face were a little cold seem a bit minor.

Although it's easy for me to say this, living in a heated house, I actually enjoy the cold weather. I could honestly enough say that it's in my blood-my father grew up in Alaska, and I was born in Northwest Colorado, but I don't think that's quite it. There is just something poignant about a frozen world-when the cold is severe enough that the rivers and creeks (that aren't spring-fed of course), stop their flow and stand still, icicles hang from every bluff, looking something like weapons of war. I also love the quiet of a snow covered forest, especially in the late afternoon just before sundown. As the cold air of evening begins to settle into the forest, everything on earth seems to slow to a halt, in anticipation of a frigid winter night.

Outside the Parks

2010-12-10T19:15:00.000-06:00

What do you do if you drive to Bennett, Montauk, or one of the other trout parks (or Taneycomo for that matter), and you can see fisherman from horizon to horizon? That sight is all too familiar in Missouri. As the numbers of trout fisherman rise, and the number of miles in our trout parks stay the same, crowds keep getting bigger and bigger, and the experience becomes poorer. Some disgusted anglers are giving up the sport of trout fishing altogether, in favor of other species where they can find waters with more solitude.

Blue Spring Creek, just one of many uncrowded

trout streams in the Missouri Ozarks

But there's another way. There are 150 miles of managed trout water in Missouri, only eight of which are contained in trout parks. So that tells you right off the bat that there is upwards of 140 miles of trout water in Missouri outside the parks. None of these streams are anywhere near as crowded as the trout parks, and they all offer some kind of quality trout angling. These "outside the park" streams are the answer for trout fisherman looking for a little solitude.

One thing that keeps many fisherman inside the parks is the concern that they are somehow incapable of catching fish elsewhere. That is untrue in almost all cases. You probably will have to adjust your techniques somewhat, but if you can catch them in the parks, with a little bit of flexibility and maybe a bit of work, any trout park fisherman can make the transition.

One difference between park waters and non-park waters is the level of spookiness in the fish. Trout park fish are used to people;indeed, the fresh hatchery fish actually associate humans with food. Stream-wise fish on the other hand, consider human beings predators, and if they know you're there, they will often get lock-jaw. But you don't need to be all the sneaky except on the very touchiest of streams. I have caught many perfectly wild trout in Missouri from within 15 feet of my boots, but I also make an effort not to crunch gravel excessively or position myself directly over the fish. This isn't rocket science;you just don't want to make yourself dreadfully obvious to the fish.

Also, you'll need to get in the habit of presenting "natural" flies of lures. Matching the hatch can be helpful, but that's not what I'm talking about here. I'm just saying that you need to use a lure or fly that is at least somewhat representative of what the fish eat on a regular basis. Since trout eat a wide variety of foods, naturally a wide variety of flies can be effective. During the warm months outside of the parks, I wouldn't be without some Hare's Ear Nymphs, Pheasant Tail Nymphs, Stonefly Nymphs, and Scud patterns in a variety of sizes. For dries, Adams, Elk Hair Caddis, and Wullf-type attractor dries are all very useful. I rely a lot on egg patterns during the winter. But one specific pattern is not usually the key to success. You just have to be fishing a reasonable fly in a natural manner most of the time, although the fish do have their moments when they are exceedingly picky.

So next time you go trout fishing, give the water outside the parks a try. I'd suggest starting with the Blue Ribbon stretch of the Current River in South-central Missouri, the Niangua in southwestern Missouri, and the Red Ribbon portion of the Meramec in eastern Missouri. All three of these rivers offer relatively easy fishing that is fairly similar to trout park angling without the ridiculous crowds. Why not give them a try?

Winter

2010-12-07T17:30:00.000-06:00

Winter has hit Missouri like a ton of bricks. Just a couple weeks ago, it was getting up into the low 50s just about everyday, the bluegill were still biting on the local ponds, and the deer hunting weather was as pleasant as can be. Today, most of the ponds and creeks around here that aren't spring-fed are all frozen-some are just developing slush ice, and others are completely solid. Today, the temperature never cracked 25 degrees, and it's supposed to get well down in the teens tonight.

It seems like it would be a good time for sportsmen to put away their hunting and fishing gear, call it a year, and start reminiscing about the season gone by. But if you're willing to bundle up a little and be a little more cautious, there's no reason in the world why you can't enjoy some of the best fishing of the year right now-in the heart of winter.

Missouri trout streams stay ice free and fishable all year. The spring-waters stay in the 50s all year long, and the trout stay active right through the gut of the winter. Their is nothing quite like an Ozark trout stream in winter. The icicles will be hanging off the river bluffs, the rivers will be down and gin clear, and you will have all kinds of water all to yourself. By all means, pick a cold, nasty day to get on the river. Throw comfort aside, and fish in the weather that keeps other anglers away. You will be rewarded with cold hands, frozen rod guides, more than likely some nice trout, and an experience that you just can't find any other time of year.

Icicles above the upper Current River

near the Baptist Access. Taken last

February

A quick run-down of good winter fishing spots is in order. First on my list is the Current River. The Current River below Montauk State Park offers great winter fly fishing, and even good dry fly fishing on the warmer days. Throughout the winter, orange and peach colored egg patterns work very well, as do midge nymphs, Pheasant tail nymphs, and Stonefly nymphs. When the air temperature gets above freezing in the afternoon, some bugs will hatch, and there may well be a chance to get some fish looking up. Blue-winged Olives, midges, and Caddis provide most of the winter dry fly action.

The Eleven Point is another great winter destination. I highly recommend the float from Greer Crossing Access to Turner Mill. Along this float, the mix of wild and stocked rainbows stay very active through the winter, and will take egg patterns, stonefly nymphs, and crayfish imitations. Smallmouth bass also congregate in this stretch during the winter since they are attracted to the warmer spring-water. The same stonefly nymphs and crayfish patterns that take the rainbows will work for the smallies. Marabou jigs, dead drifted under a strike indicator or stripped in, will also attract both trout and smallmouth this time of year.

The Meramec River below Maramec Spring is also a decent winter fishing destination near St. Louis. While trout numbers are not as high as on the Current or Eleven Point, there are enough trout to allow for an enjoyable few hours. I suggest wading the stretch between the mouth of Maramec Spring and the mouth of Dry Fork Creek for the highest concentration of trout. You'll also find some smallies in that area this time of year. Egg and scud patterns tend to work well on the Meramec this time of year.

There are also all the trout parks, which are open to fly only, catch and release fishing now. Bennett, Montauk, and Roaring River are open only Fridays through Mondays, while Maramec is open daily. The fishing hours during the winter season are 8 AM to 4 PM. Egg patterns, woollies, and other attractor type nymphs work well during the catch and release season.

So there are plenty of fishing opportunities out there right now. Just be careful, and fish with a buddy if you can. With temperatures as they are now, if you fall in the river or fill your waders, it wouldn't take all that long for hypothermia to set in. It's really best to fish near someone else so they can help you out in the case of a mishap. And winter is certainly not the time for adventurous wading, as the consequences are much higher.

Thoughts on a Weekend of Hunting

2010-11-14T18:22:00.000-06:00

The pine covered face of an Ozark peak near our
hunting area

As we rise up into the mountains, it feels as if I am coming home, even though I live several hours to the north and east. We've hunted this tract of public land every November for the last eight years, and I've come to know it and love it like no other area of the Ozarks.

As we come to an opening in the pine trees, the landscape opens up into a beautiful vista of the surrounding mountains. It's sunset now, and the rocky bald at the summit of one mountain shimmers in the failing light. Finally we make it to the camping area we always stay at, and begin setting up camp. My father and I have always hunted together, and that's the case this time. We set up camp wordlessly and relatively efficiently, (we have done this a few times after all)although the hard ground always makes life a little difficult.

Normally at this point we would build a fire, but not this time. First off, it's unusually warm outside, (the truck thermometer read 75 degrees on the way down) making a fire unnecessary. Secondly, we are in the middle of a drought in the Ozarks, and the sign at the campground warned of "Extreme Fire Danger". Not wanting to risk being the idiots that burn down the forest, we just hit the sack without the fire.

At 4 A.M., I cursed as the alarm went off. Upon opening the tent, I saw a starless night sky and a wet ground. It had rained over night. We had a quick breakfast of oatmeal and granola bars, and headed out. We hunt the mountain country, sitting for a few hours and moving to another place to sit and wait through the day. So we stumbled through the dark woods, and found, what in the dark, appeared to be a good looking ridge. As the light came into the woods, we found that, although we had hiked for 15 minutes, the road was still in sight.

So we hiked down into a creek valley, and sat for several hours. We saw nothing. The habitat here seemed perfect. There was a spring creek for a water source, thick cover for a bedding area, and tall white oaks for forage. But the deer never showed themselves.

That afternoon, we drove to a deep, meadow filled valley. When we arrived, there were no other hunters, and we set up along one of the meadows. Soon, a large truck drove right across the field, even though it is well marked that it is illegal to drive in this area. It is no secret to any of us that many hunters and anglers do not share a basic ethic towards other hunters and fisherman (or a respect for the law), but it is still maddening when you are faced with such blatant disrespect.

The next morning, we went back to the creek bottom we had hunted the morning before. We hunted the area several hours, but saw no deer. Finally, we left. My father and I decide that the hunt was a success, despite not seeing a deer the entire time. It's easy to get so focused on the end result that you forget why you are out there in the first place. To avoid that, my father and I decided many years ago that we hunted and fished to spend time in the outdoors. Fish and game were welcome bonuses. We were able to spend two relaxing days watching the day go by from the vantage point of an unspoiled forest, and that was enough.

The next morning, we visited Round Spring. Round Spring flows up from a collapsed cavern, through an underground passage, and into a watercress lined spring branch that leads to the Current River. I can't get over the idea of water coming up from these subterranean passages into the light of day. I can understand it scientifically, but poetically, it is too beautiful for words. I just can't describe the feeling of watching this water flow from the storehouses of the earth into this bottomless pool. Thank God for the Ozarks.

The aqua-marine colored pool where Round
Spring emerges from the earth

Drought

2010-11-08T19:05:00.000-06:00

Last October in rained nearly every day. The sun never once seemed to come out. The rivers were muddy and blown out through much of the month, and we all thought it was the worst thing that could have happened. We were praying for dry weather.

And we got it. Our wishes didn't come true until this Autumn, but they came true in the form of a pretty disturbing drought. The drought started in September, and we just haven't had any significant rain fall in about two months. Missouri does see droughts on occasion, but almost always during July and August. Spring is usually our rainiest season, but Fall generally is not far behind. The Missouri Department of Conservation is worried about forest fires this fall with the dry, windy weather. That is usually not a concern in the state of Missouri.

The drought has yet to break, and we are cruising right through November. Luckily, the drought did not ever coincide with hot weather. If it had, the spring flows would have dropped while the temperatures rose, which would have likely caused some fish kill in the trout streams. As it is, the fishing has actually been pretty good lately, especially for trout. The water is low and the fish are a little spooky, but they are still feeding well, and can be caught. Smallmouth bass fishing has also been pretty good this Autumn, although it is tapering off with the colder nights.

So the short term effects doesn't seem to be any thing to worry about. The real concern is the effect this could have on our water table, and on future spring flows. A rainy fall helps to recharge the spring pools, and we are just not seeing any of that rejuvenating rain. A lack of rain now could actually hurt stream flows on the spring-fed streams far into the future.

But for now, I'm not going to worry about it. For one thing, there is absolutely nothing to be done. I don't claim to be a wise person, but I have been around long enough to know that it is unproductive and unhealthy to worry about things that are not under your control. And everything will likely be just fine. Some rain is in the forecast, and although it doesn't look significant, it could get us headed in the right direction. And for now, the fishing is good, and deer season is coming right up. Drought or not, now is not a bad time to be an outdoorsman in the Ozarks.

Just be extra careful with your fires this deer season. This dry weather has the woods ready to go up like tinderbox, and you don't want to be the one to start a forest fire.

An Ozark Weekend

2010-09-19T16:37:00.000-05:00

The mountains surrounded us on all sides, intersected by valleys cut by running water over the ages. It was all forest from horizon to horizon, some deciduous, and some short-leaf pine forest. We were in the heart of the south-central Ozarks, where the Ozark National Scenic Riverways meet the great tracts of Conservation land. Great public woodlands dominate the landscape, a true wild country that one would not expect to find in the midwest.

We were driving along a gravel road on a ridge-line, looking for a pull out to camp at. We were down in the Ozarks on a two-purpose trip;first we wanted to scout out an area for deer hunting, then we planned to head over to the upper Current for some trout fishing. The prospect of this weekend got me through what turned out to be a very difficult week, because I knew we get to experience some very beautiful country in an up-close and personal way.

Finally we found an area to set up camp. The night was clear, and we decided to forgo setting up tents. Instead, the bed of the truck would serve as camp. We woke up the next morning around 7 AM, checked the GPS, for a while to see where we were going to go, and headed out. We would hike up to a clear-cut, and scout the edges to see if there was any likely sign. If that didn't produce a hunting spot, we would hike down to the Current River and try to find a good spot there. If nothing else, we would at least get the chance to swim in a beautiful spring-fed river.

A long, slow pool on the upper Current River.

There were some nice trout in here, but they are

difficult to fool in the glassy water.
And that turned out to be a good thing. The country was extremely rough, thick, and steep. There also happened to be a general lack of deer sign of any kind;we found only a few tracks, and no droppings or other indications. So we headed down to the river. Still not finding anything worth hunting, we decided to just head down for a look at the river, and a refreshing swim. That would be most welcome, as the air temperature had risen well into the 80s. The water was numbingly cold, and it was difficult to get used to. Still, we were very glad to get cooled off, and we also had a good time people watching. Although the canoe rental crowd had thinned a little from late-summer, there were still plenty of folks to watch. Everyone that went by yelled "How's it going?" or What are ya doing all the way out here without a canoe?" When I said "Just hiking" a few of them gave me a funny look. But everyone seemed to be having a good time and were pretty friendly, so it wasn't really bothersome. After the swim, we hiked out, and that was when it got a little bit tough.You can only bust through so many clear-cuts before it gets a little tiresome, but the views from the top of the ridges were really worth it. I still don't know where we're going to deer hunt this year, but we enjoyed the hike anyway.

That evening we stopped to fish an area on the Upper Current River. Knowing we still had to find a place to camp, we didn't want to fish past dark. Still, we fished for an hour and a half or so, and a few trout were caught. I did well with nymphing the deep water, although I talked to another guy who said the hopper fishing had been good.

We found a little pull-off near the river that wasn't marked no camping, and began heating up the chili. My Dad and I were together this trip, and we began to discuss the day. We talked about the hike, the lack of deer sign, the swim in the river, and the evening's fishing, got the chili out of the fire (it was still cold when we ate it, but we were so hungry that we didn't care) and then hit the sack. This is how it has always been done when my father and I go camping, fishing, or hunting together. We like to go in what Tom McGuane would call the "Old Rugged" style, eating instant oatmeal for breakfast, jerky and trail mix for lunch, and canned chili cooked at the fire for dinner. Camp is not a trailer or a hotel, but a tent or the bed of a truck, depending on the weather. That's just how it's done, and we both prefer it that way.

The Current River in the lower reaches of it's

Blue Ribbon trout area. This riffle produced

several nice brown trout.

We arose the next morning to check out some new water, based on the advice of a friendly gentleman that we met on the river the evening before. The access point we used isn't really very well known, and we were told that we could get away from the crowds. It was good advice. The pool right at the access is used as a ford by horsemen, as as such is shallow, wide, and gravelly-not good holding water. But downstream, the water narrowed into fast riffles and luxurious blue-green pools, perfect trout water. I started off fishing a very fast, rough and tumble riffle. Most of the water was too fast to hold fish, but the inside bend was home to a deep, swirling eddy. I had to get the fly across the fast current to get to the eddy, which made a long cast and a drag free drift an impossible combination. So instead, I sneaked to the middle of the river, right in the fast water, and just dropped my nymph rig in there, keeping my fly line off the water. It worked like a charm, and I was rewarded with some beautiful brown trout.

And that's how it went the rest of the day, until we got off the water about 11:30 A.M. We were getting a little hungry, and we figured the canoe crowd would be showing up soon. So we packed it up, and drove out of the Ozarks. I still haven't found a better way to spend a weekend than this.

Hot weather and trout fishing

2010-08-10T12:02:00.000-05:00

I just made a post yesterday about how we should keep fishing when it is as hot as it is, and I still believe that wholeheartedly. But I do believe on quick reminder is necessary in regard to some of our trout waters in this kind of heat.

The trout streams in Missouri are spring-fed, and that tends to keep the water temperatures tolerably cool most of the year. But we have been having an unusually hot summer this year. On some trout streams, the spring-flows just aren't enough to cool the water down. As soon as the spring-water emerges on the surface, it is subjected to an intense heat, and it warms up quickly. A rule of thumb for trout fishing is, if the water temperature is above 70 degrees Fahrenheit, you shouldn't fish. First of all, trout often quit feeding at this temperature, and you are not likely to catch a lot of fish. Secondly, any fish you do catch most likely will not survive. When water temperatures are above 70 degrees, oxygen levels become depleted, as warm water can't hold as much oxygen as cool water. When the trout are gasping for breath as it is, the added stress of you landing and releasing it is often the difference between life and death.

Now I'm making everything sound like doom and gloom, but it's not really like that. There are trout waters around the Ozarks that continue to fish quite well. First off, you can always assume that the trout parks will be cool enough for ethical and productive fishing. The water in these parks comes directly from springs, and even on the hottest days of summer will never exceed 60 degrees. There are other areas as well that are very fishable that don't receive nearly the fishing pressure of the trout parks. The Blue Ribbon stretch of the Current River continues to have cool water and fair to good fishing. So does the Blue Ribbon area of the Eleven Point and North Fork of the White. The areas you primarily want to stay away from right now are the small streams with limited spring flows, especially the wild trout streams that rely on a relatively small number of breeding sized fish to sustain the population. The water temperatures are getting very high on some of these streams. Again, I will return to the #1 rule of summer trout fishing:if the water temperature is above 70, please don't fish. It's best for the fishery and for those who enjoy it.

Thank you.

The Dog Days

2010-08-09T19:38:00.000-05:00

It's hot across Missouri. We are talking about extreme, stifling, oppressive, dangerous heat. The heat index today hit 108 degrees, although the actual air temperature was a chilly 96. It is the kind of heat that makes even obsessive fisherman want to hole up inside instead of going outside and fishing.

I'm afraid I've succumbed to that a little bit lately. The last 2 evenings I haven't been out fishing, and I don't really have a good excuse. While the mid-days are totally horrific and oppressive, late evening is balmy but not all that uncomfortable. I am going to go out this evening with my fly rod as soon as I finish this blog post, and I bet I'll catch a few, maybe just bluegill, but it will be better than staring at a computer screen.

That's one misconception about these hot days among fisherman. A lot of people assume fish can't be caught in these conditions, or at least not very many. I don't really find that to be the case. I was just out on a float trip down the Big Piney last Monday and Tuesday, and the smallies went biting right on through the 100 degree days. The heat just didn't seem to bother them. And for the trout fisherman, there is still some good fishing to be had on that front too. While some of the more temperature sensitive streams are getting a bit touchy, there is still plenty of nice, cold spring-water that will produce very well. So when we don't go out in the summer because "the fish will be off anyway" we are probably just making an excuse not to go out in the hot weather.

So fisherman like me need to get our lazy @$#@$ of the computer chair and onto the water. See you all later, I'm going fishing.

Adirondack Pictures

2010-07-24T10:42:00.000-05:00

Here are some pictures from my recent trip to the Adirondacks-enjoy.

This is a view of the West Branch of the Ausable below Wilmington-probably my favorite stretch of river to fish. There are lots of brown trout here and some native brookies too.

Another view of the Ausable below Wilmington dam.

A typical trout lie on the West Branch of the Ausable

The East Branch of the Ausable. This is a good trout stream in the spring and fall, but it gets too warm to be productive in the
summer.

The East Branch of the St. Regis below Meacham Lake. Besides being beautiful, it produced good fishing for smallmouth bass and yellow perch.

A wilderness pond along our canoe route. This one gave up several largemouth bass and a smallmouth.

Thanks for looking at the pictures. There would be some fish pictures included, but we generally only caught small to medium sized fish that were not worthy of pictures. Also, warm water temperatures insisted that I release all trout immediately, to avoid unneeded stress to the already tired fish. I hope you enjoyed the pictures anyway.

Fishing the Adirondacks

2010-07-10T11:37:00.000-05:00

Me fishing The West Branch of the Ausable River above Monument Falls, before warm, low water conditions did their damage

I have mixed emotions right now as I sit down to write this blog post. On one hand, the North Country of the Adirondacks is beautiful beyond belief. I am looking across the valley of Lake Champlain now, to the first foothills of the mountains. In my time here so far, I have climbed mountains, and seen views more beautiful than any I have seen before. The streams, rivers, and lakes are clear, fast moving, and run through protected wilderness. The setting simply couldn't be any better.

The fishing, on the other hand, has been a bit on the difficult side. The last week has been incredibly hot for this part of the country, with highs in the 90s nearly every day, and nights that only drop to about 70 degrees. This has had an extremely negative effect on the trout water throughout the region. The streams are far too low, and more importantly, they are far too warm. The West Branch of the Ausable, (a renowned trout stream well known for it's propensity to stay cool in the summer) has been rising into the middle and upper seventies each afternoon. The trout are extremely stressed, presumably holding in great numbers at the mouths of small tributary streams where the water is just a bit cooler. Fishing this normally great trout stream would be unproductive and unethical right now. The weather is cooling off drastically, with highs only in the mid-seventies, and some scattered rain, so things may get better for us yet. We'll just have to wait and see.

The La Chute River in Ticonderoga, New York

It wasn't like this when we arrived. The region had just finished with a cool and rainy period, so most of the streams, including the Ausable River, were cold and very fishable. We fit in several days of good fishing in at the beginning of our trip, managing to get some brightly colored and healthy brown and brook trout to rise to our dry flies. We then went to the La Chute River, in the low country of the park in the town of Ticonderoga, and caught a mixture of trout and smallmouth bass. On our fourth day in the Adirondacks, the heat settled in, and the trout fishing slowed to a halt. Still, we wanted to fish, so we started to look into other options.

While the Adirondack region is mostly known for it's excellent trout fishing, there is another species worth the attention of any angler. The smallmouth bass, which we had caught more or less by accident while trout fishing throughout the trip, were suddenly the focus of our attention.

One evening, we had to make a run to the Walmart in Ticonderoga, and decided to stop at the La Chute again, near town. Finding the access point we had fished previously full of swimmers, we moved on to another portion of stream. Where we ended up, the stream was slow and weedy, impounded by a small mill dam. We found the water full of the extremely colorful Pumpkinseed sunfish, but it didn't seem as if any smallmouth bass were awaiting our flies. We decided to move on.

We came to a small stream running through the town of Crown Point, called Putnam Creek. The water was slow, rocky, and extremely clear. It seemed like excellent smallmouth bass habitat. When I waded in, I was surprised to find that the water was quite cold, a significant contrast from the tepid waters of the La Chute. Not knowing what species of fish were in the stream, I tied on a #10 Brown Woolly Bugger streamer, and began fishing. My fly went untouched for an hour or so, but just before the last light came off the water, I felt a heavy strike while fishing a shallow riffle. The fish made it's way off the hook before I could land it or even catch a glimpse, but I had the chance to feel the electric tension of a large fish for a moment, and that was enough.

The next day, we decided to head to the far north region of Adirondack park, north of the high peaks, and into the boreal forest. We arrived at our destination, the East Branch of the St. Regis River, at about 5:30 P.M. The stream coursed it's way through a boggy low country pine forest, over a tiny mill dam, and below that, into a brawling, rock filled rapid. The water was fairly warm, but just cool enough to make wading quite comfortable. I tied on a #10 Prince nymph, and begin stripping it through the slow current above the mill dam like a streamer. On my third cast, I hooked a fish. It was an eight inch yellow perch, a fish that is not native to this particular neck of the north woods, but nevertheless seemed to belong. I went on for two more hours casting the prince nymph, and catching chunky yellow perch and smallmouth bass just often enough that I found myself never wishing for a take. This was easy, undemanding fishing, and it gave me a chance to look at the scenery, to contemplate where I was. As I looked upstream, I could see the most northern of the Adirondack peaks, which stretch for hundreds of miles south. Looking north, I saw the flat boreal forest, which extends, more or less uninterrupted, up to the subarctic region of Canada. I finally understood that I was in a vast, wild area, truly a special thing in the often crowded eastern United States. It was beautiful, and poetic in a very real sense.

Finally I decided to once again focus on the water and my fishing. The light was beginning to fade off the river's amber colored water, and I decided to tie on a larger fly, just to see what might happen. I attached a #6 Black Woolly Bugger on the end of my tippet, and began working the deep slot in the center of the stream. For 20 minutes my fly went untouched, save the occasional half-hearted tap by a perch too small to actually take the fly. I took another cast, not expecting anything. But suddenly my line went tight, and soon my fly rod was doubled over by a very large fish. The fish hung near the bottom for what seemed like forever, and then rushed up to the surface, threw the fly, and disappeared into the unknown. I have no idea whether it was a bass, pike, or trout, but I do know that this large, primal creature probably deserved to get away. I stood there, half heart broken and half elated, and certainly stunned. I did the only thing a fisherman can do in such a situation; I took another cast and hoped for the best.

A Bit of Peace and Quiet Please

2010-06-19T20:29:00.000-05:00

I was zoned in. I felt the live heft of my bamboo fly rod as my woolly bugger sailed through the air, on target to the fallen tree that I knew held fish. After the fly hit the water, I let it sit for a moment, sinking into the strike zone, and then began stripping it in. Soon after, the leader stopped, and I was on to a fish. It was a bluegill, a solid hand sized specimen, and a handful on the light rod. As I brought him to my hand, I admired the fish for a moment.

Then I hear someone yelling, in the particularly obnoxious manner peculiar to those seriously inebriated. It was a twenty five year old man, and he was telling me he wanted me to give him the fish so he could cut it's eye out and look at it. Sickened, I walked away and quit fishing. Clearly this was a man with no regard for natural resources or God's creation. As I was walking away, he laughed, and asked me why the hell I put the damn fish back in the water. It was enough to turn my stomach.

This is something I see a lot of, and I don't think I'm the only one. There are many people in America who think our lakes and rivers are an excellent place to get drunk, scream, and play their boom boxes. To hell with the fisherman. These people don't respect the natural environment because they simply don't understand it. They look past the beautiful little intricacies of our water-ways. They don't notice these things because they don't even look for them.

And that leaves the fisherman, and the bird watcher, and the naturalist who sees the ecosystem for what it is and appreciate it's values in a difficult position. We are forced to either be confrontational or lose any possibility of quiet day on the water in some places. The truth is, we don't want either. I like to think I'm friendly as fisherman go. I am always willing to share a good spot with another fisherman, and I enjoy having a nice conversation with someone on the water. I just don't want to have the loudness and disrespect of the resource thrown into my face. I simply want to be a quiet, contemplative angler. Is there any place for that anymore?

The Fishing Life

2010-05-15T21:12:00.000-05:00

Image by Jim Nix / Nomadic Pursuits via Flickr

I tend to start thinking while I sit at my fly tying vice, probably too much actually. I was tying Woolly Buggers at cruising speed this evening for a smallmouth trip next weekend, and I started to think about how I view the world. More and more, it is through the lens of fishing.

And I think that fishing is a good way to look at the world. It places a heavy influence on the natural cycles of our world, and the long and incomprehensible connections that allow ecosystems to flourish. We learn a bit of everything on the stream, from entomology to hydrology. We learn how the mayflies need a clean, cold stream to survive, how the trout depend on the mayflies, and how the herons depend on the trout. We learn about springs, where water flows up from subterranean passages to the surface of the earth. We learn in a way that is too real and too tangible to be learned any other way than spending a lot of time on the water. And if you have curiosity, these things fascinate you to no end. They absorb you to the point where you can hardly think of anything else. Soon, every thought that you have will be filtered by it.

Sometimes I wonder if this single track state of mind detracts from my enjoyment of life. It causes me to crave solitude, which some people don't think is a good thing. Still, I find that fishing instills poetry in my soul and a soft music in my ears. If you ever feel this, you'll understand how some seemingly important things can become insignificant.

Spring Rains

2010-04-26T18:01:00.000-05:00

Image by [luis] via Flickr

A low pressure front is stalled over the Ozarks, and over the last few days we have been blessed with pounding, heavy, and glorious rains. This water is now making it into our rivers, and making some of them high and unfishable. Sounds like bad news, doesn't it?

In the short term, it is. The fishing will be tough in the main rivers for the next few weeks, as we have more rain in the forecast. But the positive effects could be drastic later on in the year. Up until this point, we have had an extraordinarily dry spring. Rivers that often run bank-full in April were low and clear. That's excellent for now, but a low clear river in April hints at a dire situation in August. But the spring rains have come;a bit late, yes, but they have come.

I'm like every other fisherman on the planet. That is, I hate spring rains while they last, but on occasional open-minded times, I can appreciate their effects. They are the life blood that keep springs flowing in the sparse times of August, and the saving grace of our small streams. The water seeps through the ground in our lush April, into the spring system, and some of that is stored until the times the stream and the creatures that rely on the stream really need it. It truly is a beautiful thought, one that can make you think for a moment that the world really does have some order.

And the fishing isn't always bad during the spring rains, unless you insist on fishing the big rivers. The headwater streams and spring branches remain very fishable through most of it-even now after the rains have made a torrent of everything else. In fact, the blue-green water of spring is something that I have come to relish on the wild trout streams. This is when you may find a glorious day when the little trout will hit your fly with abandon, at which point life will seem quite okay for a while.

Down to Montauk

2010-03-09T18:55:00.000-06:00

Image by tdreyer1 via Flickr

I'm headed down the long road to Montauk State Park for a weekend of camping and fishing. I haven't been on an Ozark stream for a few weeks, and not coincidentally, life has seemed a little harder to sort through than usual. I knew I needed the trip to get things back in order, or at least that's the excuse I used. I'm just crossing the Bourbeuse River now, and I see that it has it's normal greenish brown tint. Sure, it's kind of an ugly river from the road, but I've learned from past experiences it can be pretty enough if you want it to be. Pretty soon I'm on Highway 44, headed down to our exit in Rolla. I can never quite get over how ugly this road is, with all the billboards, truck stops, and "Adult Superstores". Still, just past Rolla, there is one nice view of thew Ozark foothills to the north, and I always appreciate that. Now I'm off the interstate, headed down Highway 63 through Rolla. It's a nice enough little college town, but I really just want to be past it. That's because the Ozark Hills begin to appear just south of the city limit. Now we're out, dropping down into the Beaver Creek valley. Next we're getting ready to cross the Little Piney. This is a great little trout creek, and I briefly consider pulling over to fish it for a little while. But a since of purpose kicked in. My plan was to head to Montauk and the Current River, and what I'm gonna do, by golly. Still, I feel a slight twinge of regret when I see Little Piney is looking great-just a little up and greenish blue colored, but that only makes the fishing better.

Oh well. We're getting close to Montauk anyway. First we hit the town of Edgar Spring (I'm pretty sure the whole town comprised of a gas station and two or three houses), then we come into Licking. Licking is a delightful little small town, with a couple thousand people. It's also something of a trout-oriented place, which ups it about 10 notches in my mind. We get off of Highway 63 at Licking, and begin to move through some rolling hills, with mostly grassy cattle pastures, but a few pretty pine trees as well. It goes on for miles. It either looks like Western ranchland or the African Savannah;I can't tell which. Finally we get into the true Ozark Mountains, the Salem Plateau to be exact. Now all the land is wooded, and the small peaks seem to rise up in all directions.

Then we get to the pull off, and head down of those mountains into Montauk State Park. First we see the Spring Branch. It's predictably full of bait fisherman. We keep on moving to the old low water. I park and rig my fly-rod, this time with a Hare's Ear Nymph, one of the oldest flies in existance. Just a hundred yards or so above the low water lies a mill dam. I go upstream about a quarter mile from there, above the mill pond where the water flows free. There is a fallen tree and a nice scour hole below it, and I cast there a few times, and hook up with a nice rainbow. He's a feisty one, but there isn't much trouble. He come's to net, and I get a nice look at his green back, black spots, and pink stripe before release. Yes, I'm finally here.

The Current River-A Winter's Thaw

2010-02-27T22:10:00.000-06:00

The pool at the Baptist Camp Access, complete with ice crystals.

The sun was setting at my back as I cast my fly to the rocky bank to the other side of the river. Massive ice crystals course their way into the water, and I stole a brief look at them. The weather was 45 degrees, and they were dripping, prime to melt and fall into the river at any time. As I look back to my line, I saw that my indicator is no where to been seen. I caught a quick view of the silver flash of a nice brown, but he was gone. It's absolutely necessary to look a the scenery when you fish, but maybe you should wait until your line's out of the water.

But that was hard to do. The Current River is one of the prettiest around. It winds through some of the most lush, rugged country anywhere in our state, and the upper stretch where we fished, a few miles below it's headwaters at Montauk State Park, is especially awesome. A near vertical hillside borders the river on one side, and on the other lies a mountain valley. The river is is a series of fast riffles and deep pools, and almost all of the water holds fish.

But back to today's trip. We arrived at the Baptist Camp Access at about 1:00. Although we've fished the Current quite a bit, we'd never been to this exact area. It wasn't hard to tell that this was going to be exceptional water. The pool right at the access was deep, fast, and one of the fishiest I've ever seen. It was also quite crowded. So I walked along an old fisherman's trail about a half mile downstream until I came to a great little run that wasn't being fished. I rigged up with a Woolly Bugger and got to work. I almost immediately took a small wild rainbow. Wild trout aren't exactly rare in the Current, but they are the exception to the rule. There's been some concern about poor rainbow spawning in recent years, so it was good to see a trout that was clearly born in the stream. It used to be that there were quite a few stream-born trout in the Current, but that's changing. It's become something of a famous trout river over the last few years, and the spawning bed are just being stomped over too much by unaware fisherman. Now there are still plenty of trout in the river, both rainbows and browns. It's just that the vast majority of them are stocked, which is kind of a disappointment to some folks.

Enough preaching. In any case, the trout fishing was very nice today. Every hole that looked like it should give up fish did. Not a lot, but plenty to make it what I would call a pretty good day of catching. But that's not even the main point. A quiet river on a late winter's thaw is one of the most beautiful things you'll every find. Add the gentle rhythm of the fly fishing, and it's a perfect day.

Tying Flies

2010-02-24T17:34:00.001-06:00

Image via Wikipedia

I took up tying flies this winter when I received a kit for Christmas. I watched a video on it, assembled my equipment on an old table down in my basement, grabbed the instructional book, and told myself that by God, I was ready to tie a couple flies.

Little did I know. I discovered the lesson I've learned from year's past in a series of mishaps and troubles. The fact of the matter is that I'm as likely to be able to make precise movements with my hands time after time as a pig is to learn to be able to learn to sing. The first few times it just wasn't happening. After seeing that my Hare's Ear Nymph looked like it had gone through a meat grinder, I just threw it away and started again, this time with a Pheasant Tail Nymph. I wasted about five straight hooks on that, but finally despite my best efforts, I produced one that looked marginally like the real thing. So for the next few weeks, I focused purely on that fly, and learned how to tie it so it doesn't look all that ridiculous. I was still burning a couple hooks for every successful try, but that was okay.

I've kept with it, and maybe even gotten a little better. I've learned to tie a few more nymphs and streamers, but I haven't even begun to tackle the significantly more difficult world of tying dry flies. Hopefully that will come in time. What I do know is fly tying is probably the most maddening and one of the most enjoyable areas of fly fishing.

An Evening on the Trout Pond

2010-02-20T21:05:00.000-06:00

I've fallen head over heels for this whole fly fishing thing the last couple of months, but I have to admit that I didn't feel the slightest bit guilty soaking Powerbait through a hole in the ice this afternoon. Most of today was pretty hectic, with other things to do besides fishing, but I was able to steal the last hour and a half or so for a trip to a local pond that's stocked with trout during the winter. The pond was frozen over, but just barely. It just to a couple runs through with a downed cedar branch to clear out enough open water to do a little fishing. So after clearing the ice up, I tossed the old Powerbait rig as far out as the hole I'd made would allow.

In case you're wondering, yes I do know that this isn't classy fishing, and in a since it's not even really an acceptable way to go about it. But I didn't have time to go anywhere else, and I needed to fish, so I won't apologize. These trout won't make it past the spring warm-up anyway, so it's not hurting anything either.

So after I got the bait out there, I sat on the bank, and read a book (which happened to be Fools Paradise, by John Gierach), and just generally chilled out. I'm a firm believer that the pace of everyday life is way too fast, and sometimes this kind of fishing is just the way to slow things down for awhile and put things in perspective. To put things another way, It reminded me of a quote by Thomas McGuane, "Fishing is extremely time consuming. That's sort of the whole point." But then Thomas McGuane probably wouldn't approve of me quoting him in a story about bait fishing.

As you can probably tell from the nature of this post, I didn't catch any fish today. (and naturally I wish I had), but I can honestly say it wasn't bad at all. When you're fly fishing for stream wise trout, it's necessary to be at least a little bit serious. I like that, but it's nice to occasionally fish in a way where that's not needed.

The Small Streams

2010-02-12T19:25:00.000-06:00

Image via Wikipedia

Small streams have always had a special place in my heart. There's just something about an unassuming little creek running through the woods that appeals to me. The stream probably isn't what you'd call impressive, and most people won't know about it. I think that's where it's charm lies. Also, in order to find a good small stream you generally have to sniff it out yourself. Finding the stream itself probably just takes a few good looks at a map and a check of the regulation book to see if it's managed trout water, but figuring out where to get on the water and how to catch the fish can be a little more difficult. That just makes it all the more rewarding when you succeed.

As you may have gathered from other posts here, Little Piney is my favorite small stream around here. It's exactly what a small trout stream should be. It's totally unimpressive, quiet, and there are a few small trout. You're not likely to have a twenty fish day here, and most of the rainbows don't crack the 8 inch mark. There have been a pretty fair number of times I haven't caught anything at all. I even know of quite a few folks who have gone and been pretty disappointed at the small fish you catch. Still, it's a pretty little trout creek that not just everyone knows about, and I love it.

Fishing the mountain streams of the Rockies and Appalachians has a totally different feel to it. These streams generally plunge over rocks and small waterfalls forming tiny, beautiful plunge pools. One of my favorite experience with small stream fishing took place on little canyon river in the Adirondacks of New York. About 90% of the river length in this canyon took the form of hell-roaring rapids where not even the strongest trout could hold. But every couple of hundred yards, the river took a breather in the form of a gem-like aqua-marine colored pool. The water reached depths of nearly ten feet in one particularly inviting pool, and there was a massive boulder in the pools outside corner, the deepest part. I could see some fish gliding through the water there, and tossed my spinner to them. I felt a quick pull on my rod, and began reeling in the prettiest trout I have every seen, a five inch native brook trout.

And these creeks can hold big trout too. I was fishing a small tributary creek on the west slope of Montana several years ago for cutthroat. The fishing was very good, and I was really enjoying the 10-12 inch cutts. Still, I had a feeling the creek held something bigger, and I switched to a larger spinner, and cast it to the deepest, greenest, most seductive looking pool on the creek. After a few turns of the reel I was rewarded with a powerful tug, and pretty soon he was stripping drag. In a few minutes, I brought to hand a 20" endangered Bull trout. You aren't supposed to target Bull trout in Montana, (and I really wasn't, I didn't even know they were in this stream until I caught one), but they are great fun to catch. And it was just another reminder of what small streams have to offer.

Cabin Fever Relief

2010-02-02T19:08:00.000-06:00

Image by Trout Lore via Flickr

I made it down to Montauk State Park on Sunday (Jan. 31) for the last Catch and Release Trout Park trip of the year. For those who don't know, the catch and release season offers some very special fishing. Trout numbers are at their highest, and their aren't many other fisherman. It's almost like fishing private water, although your never exactly alone. And on top of that, Sunday's weather was beautiful, with a high temperature at 40 degrees.

I fished pretty much all over the park throughout the day, and they were biting in most areas. The day's highlight without a doubt came at the very end of the day. My indicator went down, and I felt the beautiful sensation of a very large trout. After a fifteen minute long fight, I managed to bring the largest rainbow of my life to net. Since the fight had started 10 minutes before the closing buzzer, it ended up lasting full five minutes past legal fishing hours, which created something of an interesting situation in itself. The rules about fighting a fish that was hooked before the end of fishing hours, but fight until after, are not at all defined. In any case, there was no way I was going to break this fish off. He really did look a bit more like a colored up steelhead than your run of the mill stocker rainbow. I don't have any definite way of telling, but he appeared to be in the 5 pound range. I do know for a fact that he had a significant hook jaw. In any case, I slipped him back in the water,and after a few minutes of reviving, this beautiful fish swam away...

Rained Out

2010-01-22T17:39:00.000-06:00

It's been rainy here in eastern Missouri for the last couple days, and the forecast is for more rain over the next couple of days. I'd planned a trout fishing trip this weekend, but most of the rivers are too high to fish, and the few that aren't will be after tonights rains. When conditions aren't such that I can actually fish, I'm usually thinking about past trips and their significance.

Like the trip something like 3 years ago (I can't remember exactly how long), when I reacquainted myself with trout fishing, after a break of 7 or 8 years. While I knew the basics of trout fishing itself from years past, I was a bit unprepared for the challenge at first. I headed to Montauk State Park with the vague advice that the fish liked little tiny white marabou jigs. I really had no idea how to fish them. I didn't know whether you were supposed to dead drift them, reel them straight in, or jig them up and down. Finally, pretty much by accident I managed to catch a few ten inch rainbows. It was crude fishing, but I enjoyed it enough to tell myself this wasn't going to be the last time I tried this. I haven't looked back since, and while I still consider myself to be something of a beginner, I'd like to think I've come a little ways, even managing to learn to be a halfway competent fly fisherman. And I really mean only halfway competent.

This fall, I picked up a fly rod for the first time in a very long time. I'd had this fly rod for quite a few years and had fished with it on and off, but I had never really dedicated myself to the game. This time, I decided to set down the spinning rod altogether for awhile, to really learn what this was about, (not really believing for one second that I would actually do that.) So I headed down to the local lake, and began casting some sort of a small streamer, the pattern of which I can't recall at the moment. It was slow, painstaking work trying to learn, but I was rewarded that day, right at the end with a little bass, maybe only 10". Still, it put up a pretty enjoyable fight on my 6 weight, and I was hooked. My first fly rod trip for trout ending up being on Blue Spring Creek, a little stream known for having lots of fly eating bushes, and wary trout. I thought it was going to be a disaster, and I was right. I spent far more time picking my flies out of trees, and untangling "wind" knots than I did really fishing. Finally, after many curse words and much frustration, I managed to land a wild rainbow. It was only about 8" in length, but I really didn't care. It was beautiful.

Rainy days and blown out rivers help me realize how much I really do enjoy the time I have on the river, productive or unproductive. Every day spent on a stream with a rod in hand is truly a great day. I'm afraid I don't always appreciate it enough.

Meramec River 1/16

2010-01-17T08:19:00.000-06:00

Maramec Spring Branch Trout Park,
as seen walking back from the Red Ribbon area
at the end of the day.
I fished the Meramec River red ribbon area below Maramec Spring for a few hours. The fishing was slow, but it was a beautiful day, with a high near 50 degrees. The water was flowing at near normal levels, and the wading was beautifully easy. I fished the half mile of water below the park pretty much all day, and I only caught 2 rainbows and a small brown, all on a Copper John deep under an indicator. The fish were stacked up in deep water, sulking in the cold water temperatures. Still, I can't stress enough how nice it was just to get away from it all, even for just a while. The Meramec is a beautiful Ozark foothills stream, and its almost deserted in the winter. It was a great day to be on the river casting a fly.

Ozark stream Pictures

2010-01-07T00:48:00.002-06:00

I just thought I'd show you guys some pictures from a few of the diffent streams I enjoy fishing. I think you'll see that spring-fed Ozark streams can be very scenic.

This is a picture of Blue Springs Creek near a popular access point south of Bourbon, Missouri. This is a nice little creek to fish for wild trout.

This is a nice run on Little Piney Creek for trout fishing. Any fast water like this on a wild trout stream will hold fish.

This is a picture I took of Rocky Falls Shut-in south of Eminence, Missouri. This is one of the more beautiful areas in our state. The shut-in is a small, Rhyolite canyon carved out by Rocky Creek on it's way to the Current River. There isn't much in the way of fishing here, but Rocky Creek does hold sunfish, and possibly a few bass. The view from the top of the waterfall is absolutely unforgettable. The pool below the falls is a popular swimming hole on Summer weekends, so if you're looking for a bit of solitude, it's best to go during the week.

This is a picture of a deep hole on the Eleven Point River a few miles below Greer Spring. This particular pool produced a few nice rainbows while we were there, including a beautiful wild fish of nearly 18 inches.
I don't usually take a digital camera with me when I fish, which explains the low number of pictures. Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed!

Rivers of the Ozarks

2010-01-05T17:06:00.000-06:00

There are standing waves in the shoal, and while its rather straightforward, rushing through it is something of a jarring experience. Towards the lower end of the rapid, I decide to beach my jon-boat on a gravel bar, and do a little fishing here on the Eleven Point River. My rod is already rigged with a 1/32 Panther Martin spinner, with a split-shot a foot or so up the line for added weight. I cast just a bit upriver and across stream, and begin retrieving the spinner. I see a flash of silver, and then feel a definite tug. After a quick hookset, I'm on. After a healthy battle, the fish comes to net, and a 14" rainbow meets my eyes. I slip the hook out, and let him swim away to his lie, right where the shoal meets the pool below.

I'm on standing in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt in a shallow riffle on the Bourbeuse River. It's that beautiful transition period between summer and fall, when its not quite hot, but certainly not cool or cold. In other words, it's perfect. There isn't much in the way of holding water in this particular riffle, but there is a slot of water on the opposite side of the stream that is about 15" deep. I take a few casts with a yellow marabou jig. This simple little lure is marketed for crappie fishing, but it also works well for smallmouth bass, which is what I'm after. I feel a tick in my line, and I instinctively set the hook. A smallmouth bass of about 10" takes the air, and shakes the hook. I know he's one of a dying population of smallmouth in the Bourbeuse, so I'm almost glad he got away. I would have released him anyway, but you never know what can happen with catch and release mortality. On the next cast, I catch a longear sunfish. He's only about four inches in length, but its beauty dwarfs that of any other fish native to Missouri. It has worm-like markings, and it's a jumble of orange, blue, and purple.

My fingers are beginning to become painful and useless because they are so cold. I hadn't been fishing in nearly a month, so I wasn't very particular about the weather on the day I chose to fish. It's 20 degrees, windy, and spitting snow here at Maramec Spring Park, near St. James. Still, I keep tossing my little Hare's Ear nymph with my 6 weight fly rod. I'm fishing downstream and across, waiting for the light pull that signifies the take of a sluggish winter trout. Finally I feel what I'm looking for, and I gingerly lift the rod. I am immediately fast to a something heavy. I get a good enough look to see it's a very nice brown trout, and then the line goes slack. My 6x tippet has parted ways with me.

It's November, a beautiful mid-fall day. The temperature is almost seventy degrees, and I realize that its almost hot. I'm on Little Piney Creek, a beautiful wild trout stream in southern Missouri. No hatches appear to be coming off, so I tie on the old reliable, a beadhead Hare's Ear Nymph. I've been fishing all day without a touch. Finally, on a straight downstream cast in the middle of a quick run, I feel my first fish of the day, and set the hook. I strip in a 5" rainbow, which makes up for it's small size with it's pure, chrome beauty. After a while, it begins to get a bit dark. I look at the sky. The moon is now visible, and it won't be long until I can see the first star. Crickets begin to chirp, probably for one of the last times this year, before the first hard freeze. As I look back down to the stream, the water slips past my feet into the unknown.

St. Francois Mountains

2009-12-19T23:42:00.000-06:00

Image via Wikipedia

St. Francis River at Silver-mine Shut in

The Saint Francois Mountains in Southeastern Missouri are the most spectacular in the state. These are true mountains, unlike the elevated hills and plateaus in the other parts of the Ozarks. While all of the Ozark Range is beautiful, the St. Francis Mountains are breathtaking. The Saint Francois Mountains are much different geologically than other areas of the Ozarks. First, there is little fine sediment in either the hillsides or the stream valleys. This is because the sedimentary rocks have long since eroded away in this area, and the top layer of the earth here is Rhyolite, one of the oldest igneous rocks in the history of the world.

Besides the interesting ancient history involving these rocks, it also greatly changes the appearances of the St, Francis Range. Unlike of the rolling hills, and small mountains found in the nearby Salem Plateau, the St. Francois Mountains are rocky, jagged peaks, that would seem to fit better in the Appalachians or Black Hills. The peaks are forested by hardy pine and deciduous trees. While the elevation isn’t a problem for these trees, extreme wind, and a lack of topsoil make it difficult for these forests to become as lush as others around the state. Also, streams cannot form traditional valleys because Rhyolite has very low porosity. Instead, they form narrow canyons, which are locally referred to as shut ins.

There are many recreational opportunities in the rugged St. Francis Mountains, including hunting, fishing, camping, mountain climbing, backpacking, and canoeing. The mountain streams that drain the mountain range provide the best fishing in the area. The upper portions of the Black River, and its East, West, and Middle Branch all provide excellent smallmouth bass fishing, in a rocky, fast water environment. The St. Francis River drains the other side of the range, and it provides similar smallmouth bass fishing, in its fast, frolicking waters. Once the river begins to flow into the lowlands at Sam a Baker State Park, largemouth bass, walleye, and catfish become most common. The Castor is another mountain stream that drains the St. Francis range. While this stream is mostly canyon water, it produces fairly well for smallmouth. The upper Big River is yet another stream that drains the St. Francis Mountains. It begins life at Council Bluff Lake on the Northern edge of the range, and it produces excellent smallmouth fishing for many miles downstream. This Meramec basin stream is much slower flowing, and easier to fish than other streams in the range. It quickly loses its mountain stream character, and becomes more of a normal Ozark river, with many long, deep pools for bass to hide in.

All of these streams (with the exception of the Big River) are tough to wade fish, and even more difficult to float. Ample National forest land allows the opportunity for true wilderness fishing on any of these streams. In most areas, you will be fishing in small canyons or shut ins. This gives the angler a feeling of extreme isolation. These streams do not provide the quality of black bass fishing you will find in slower gradient streams in south-central Missouri, but they do provide an opportunity to catch smallmouth bass in an area of unparalleled beauty. While most bass run small, there are always plenty of fish.

This is a great place to check out if you want a wilderness fishing experience. It is an overlooked area of Missouri, but it’s worth a trip.

Life and Fishing

2009-12-08T20:16:00.000-06:00

Image via Wikipedia

I have heard many people say that they have gone fishing, and been unsuccessful, because they did not catch any fish. This is a statement that I can not and do not understand. It may sound cliché, but in many ways it is true that fishing is a parallel to life. There are those who are purely results oriented, and do not care about the process of fishing, or just about anything else. If they win, get the promotion, or catch a fish, they are successful. If not, they have utterly failed. I do not consign myself to this line of thinking. I believe that life, as well as fishing, is more about the art, beauty, and perfection than it is about personal gain or recognition.

Fishing is about the cold water rushing past your legs, the eagle flying over your head, and all other forms of God’s creation that surround you at the moment. When you are fishing truly and purely, your thoughts, and your whole mind are consumed by the sounds of the river and the fly you are casting and the fish you see in the pool just upstream. Intermixed are no worries, no fears, or anything else that takes away from the beautiful experience that is presently occurring.

When I am fishing, I find myself inadvertently seeking perfection and purity that is found so few places in this world. I have yet to find it in it’s most peaceful and uncluttered form, and it may be that I never will. I have had fleeting glimpses, but I have never felt this feeling long enough to get a true grasp of it. But the fact that maybe someday I will, is enough for me to continue my love affair with the stream, and the fish that reside in it. If somehow I knew I would never would, it may be that I would never fish again. It would lose its meaning.

For now, I’ll continue to make my sojourns to the river in this moment’s pursuit. I will cast, watch, and wait for the twitch of my line and the sharp pull of a fish. But it may be this moment comes on a day I do not catch any fish at all.

Winter Fishing in the Ozarks

2009-12-04T21:43:00.000-06:00

Image by km6xo via Flickr

Those of you who have watched the weather (or stepped outside for that matter) know that winter has arrived in the Missouri Ozarks. As the weather cools down, many assumed that it's time to put up your rod. But personally, I can't make myself do this. Increasingly, I find my self so totally addicted that I can't make myself give it up for a week, let alone a whole season. There's no getting around the fact that things are tough, but if like me you just have to get out and go fishing, there are a few pretty decent options
-Catch and Release Season at the Trout Parks
The trout parks are open for business Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from mid-November through mid-February (Maramec Spring is open 7 days a week). Fishing is open from 8 AM to 4 PM, and you can only use flies (you don't actually have to use a fly rod though, and marabou jigs on a spinning rod are perfectly acceptable). The trout parks are pretty much brim full with trout during the winter, and there is much less pressure than the regular season. Also, a number of lunker brood stock are planted, although they tend to be pretty ugly and sickly looking fish. Eggs, San Juans, and all varieties of beadhead nymphs are good. Dry flies, particularly Cracklebacks, are effective from time to time. Sight fishing is best when water levels allow.
-River Smallie Fishing
Smallmouth hole up on long, slow pools during the winter time. Their best fished with flipping jigs, 1/4 or 1/2 ounce, in brown or green. You need to inch it slowly across the bottom, because these fish are seriously inactive. I'm sure plenty of other folks have just as good and better ways to catch winter smallies, but this is the most effective way I know of. If you can find a deep hole that's fed by a spring, you've probably hit a gold mine. Lots of fish hang out in the relatively warm water near spring discharge.
-Spring Creek Trout Fishing
Trout fishing in the small spring creeks across southern Missouri can also be pretty solid through the winter. The fish tend to hang out in slightly slower water than the warm months, but you still won't find them in dead slow water. Deep nymphs are the key here, particular Beadhead Pheasant Tails, Hare's Ear, and Prince Nymphs. #16 is about the ideal size.

If you just can't hang up your rod for the winter, try some of these techniques. You probably will not catch as many fish as you did during the fall, but it's all whole lot better than just sitting around at home.

Current River Trout fishing

2009-11-20T07:34:00.000-06:00

The Current River in southern Missouri is one of the most beautiful and pristine in the country. Winding through some of the most beautiful hills and valleys the Ozarks have to offer, its pastoral attraction is obvious. The river flows entirely through Ozark National Scenic Riverways Park, which results in limited streamside development, and excellent public access. It is one of the most popular float and fish streams in the country.
And no wonder. The river’s cold, clear water is perfect habitat for rainbow and brown trout. Indeed, the river seems tailor-made for trout fishing. Settlers in the area soon realized this, and regular stocking began in the early 1900s. Although habitat seems perfect, trout have never been able to reproduce well. Lately, with new regulations, a fairly significant wild rainbow trout population has come into existence, although they still must be stocked to meet angler demand. Brown trout cannot reproduce at all in the river, although they are stocked heavily. The constant water temperatures from spring-water allow the fish to stay healthy and active throughout the year, even in the dog days of summer.

The run in front of the Baptist Camp Access. Riffles like these hold mostly rainbows, while the deeper holes are good for big browns.

The river rises from several strong springs in Montauk State Park. Where the river leaves Montauk, and enters Ozark National Scenic Riverways, it comes under Blue Ribbon trout regulations for the next nine miles to the Cedar Grove Bridge. Regulations here allow the harvest of only one trout, and there is an 18” minimum. Artificial lures and flies only are allowed. Nearly 10,000 Brown trout are stocked throughout Blue Ribbon area annually, and many rainbows migrate from other areas of the river. Trout number about 400 per mile.

The first mile of the Blue Ribbon trout water, from Montauk State Park to the Tan Vat access may be the river’s best water for wade fisherman. This water is too shallow to float, so acts as a sanctuary for wade fisherman. Many rainbows, and some large browns are found here. Thousands of rainbows move down from Montauk State Park into this area each year, and it usually proves relatively easy to catch a few fish.

Another popular river section us from Tan Vat to Baptist Camp Access. This is also mostly a wade fishing situation, although a few canoes may be encountered. There are almost equal numbers of rainbow and brown trout in this part of the river. This run is classic trout water, with some awesome riffles and deep pools. The fish tend to be a bit more selective here than further upstream. Small flies and delicate tippet are often required.

The Blue Ribbon area stretches for 6.5 miles below Baptist Camp. There is good wading access at Baptist Camp, Parker Hollow, and Cedar Grove Bridge, but float fishing is more popular. A good one day float is from Baptist Camp to Cedar Grove. Brown trout predominate, and they tend to grow quite large. There are also some rainbows, which tend to reside in the faster moving water. Browns are found in the deep pools as well as the riffles.

The White Ribbon area begins at Cedar Grove, and stretches downstream for 8 miles. The Missouri Department of Conservation stocks the White Ribbon area every few weeks from March through October. Statewide trout regulations are in effect, and there are no bait restrictions. Browns are not stocked this far downstream, but many migrate from upriver. As a result, many of the river’s largest browns have come from this area.

The White Ribbon area can be divided into two distinct sections. The first iss the 5 mile section from Cedar Grove to Welch Spring. The river here is relatively slow and shallow, and it can get warm in the summer. Temperatures occasionally rise into the mid-70s. Generally, trout are only stocked in the spring and fall. Some trout hold over from year to year, but most fish will be fresh from the hatchery.

The situation changes dramatically below the mouth of Welch Spring, 3 miles to Akers Ferry. Welch Spring is a major cold water source, and it keeps this part of the river from ever reaching the 70 degree mark. For this reason, fish are stocked through the summer. Many trout hold over, and some real trophies are found here. Below Akers Ferry, smallmouth bass begin to predominate, and the river becomes on of the country’s best smallmouth streams below Round Spring.

Fishing techniques on the Current are many and varied. It is a surprisingly good dry fly fishery. Tricos are the river’s “big name” hatch. Every morning from mid-June through mid-September, massive hatches of tiny tricos come off. These are seriously small bugs, ranging from #22-#30, and it takes some skill to fish them properly. Caddis also come off during the warm months, and #16-#20 Elk Hair Caddis will do well.

Nymphing may be an even more popular method. All the standard nymphs work well, including Prince, Hare’s Ear, Pheasant Tail, and Copper Johns. The best year-round bet, however, is a #16 Scud imitation. Scuds (tiny freshwater shrimp) are a top food source throughout the river, 365 days a year. They are best fished near weeds.

Many other techniques also take fish on the Current. Egg imitating flies have probably taken more fish than all other patterns combined. Orange, pink, peach, and white are all good. San Juan worms, and various streamers also work well. The river also works well for spin fisherman. 1/16-1/32 ounce spinners and spoons of just about any make or color will always take fish. Marabou jigs from 1/32-1/128 ounce work extremely well in white, brown, green, and olive.

No matter what technique you choose to use, the Current River is a great trout stream. With many miles of great trout water, you’ll be hard pressed to find a better stream in southern Missouri. With its beauty and excellent trout fishing, this is a stream that holds interests for all fishermen.

Poachers

2009-11-01T11:39:00.000-06:00

Image via Wikipedia

Poachers are a big problem here in the Ozarks, perhaps moreso than other regions. Poachers come in many different ways, shapes and forms around here. Some illegally snag gamefish, some "noodle" catfish,some use live bait where it isn't legal, some keep fish that are undersize, or keep over their limit of fish that may or may not be of legal size. One thing they all have in common is that they are thieves. They take the resources that others try to catch legally, and those who make it their live's passion to do so. They do not care about nature, or the fragile balance of the ecosystem. They only care about this fish, right now. This attitude has always led to disaster, in the form of severely depleted resources, and an ecosystem in total disaray. Now is no exception.

I was fishing a small wild trout stream last weekend. This is a stream that has not recieved a stocking of trout for many years, and is totally reliant on a relatively few spawning size fish to maintain the population. As I was wading upstream from a public access, I saw a dead, cleaned jewel of a wild rainbow laying in a plastic bag, rotting in the sun. This sight made me sick to my stomach. One of God's creature's, dead, laying out in the sun utterly wasted. It almost seemed insignificant that the fish was undersize for the area (which it was of course, probably a good 8" under the minimum length limit). It was the wanton waste of this fish that made my stomach turn.

By this, some of you may get the feeling that I am opposed to ever killing a fish to eat. That is not the case. Where legal, (and ecologically responsible), I may keep a couple of fish to eat that evening. But with this stream, and this fish, it was ecologically wrong, illegal, and past even that the fish was wasted.

If you keep fish illegally from time to time, or in any other way fish in an illegal manner, you are in the minority. And those of us who are conservation minded will have no qualms whatsoever about reporting you. Also, what fun is it to fish while constantly looking over your shoulder?

The Pull of a Trout

2009-10-13T19:20:00.000-05:00

Image via Wikipedia

As the car crawls down the old, dusty road, I am filled with anticipation. Around the next corner, I will be able to see the stream. There it is. A ghost-like fog hangs over the clear, rushing water. As I leave the car and enter the fresh, crisp world of a spring day, I have a feeling this is going just what I need to get my mind back in a position to face the world at large. I slip my waders on, rig my rod, and begin the short walk to the stream. When I arrive, I reach down and put my hand in the stream. Yes, this is the cold, clean water that I have come to know and love. I quietly wade upstream a few hundred steps, until I reach a pool of beauty beyond describing. A fast riffle rushes in at the top, and the water becomes slow, deep, and a perfect hangout for an elusive wild rainbow. I take a few casts into the pool with no result. Then on the next cast, I feel the sharp pull of a trout.

The fish takes a hard run to the other side of the pool. Then it takes the air, and shakes its head with the fury that only a wild trout can show. After a few minutes, I tire the fish, and bring him to the net. The pink stripe coursing down it side is pecked with small black dots. This is truly a perfect fish. I rejoice for a moment at my catch, and slowly and gently slip him back in the water. It was truly a thing of beauty.

After a while I decide to take a break and rest. I leave the stream, and find a nice clearing near the water. As I lie there, I feel the simultaneous rush of cool wind and warm sun. I hear a bird singing its song, and with the rushing stream in the background, I feel a perfect, natural happiness.

Nice Day on the Meramec

2009-09-28T18:39:00.001-05:00

Image by CircumerroStock via Flickr

I got out for a day of fishing on Sunday, September 27. My plan was to fish the Meramec River downstream of Maramec Spring Park for trout. The water was running at 800 CFS, about twice the river's normal flow, and I was afraid the river would be a muddy mess. It didn't turn out that way. The water was flowing quickly, and the water had a definite milky color, but it was definitely fishable. I hiked a trail about a quarter mile down from the park to the first good looking pool I came to, where a riffle dumped into a deep, current scoured pool. It just looked like the place a trout should be hiding, and I was right. After a couple of casts, the rod bent, and I was on. The fish was a hard-fighting rainbow trout, and it jumped no less than three times before it came to net. It was a truly pretty fish, and after seeing this trout, there would be no question in your mind why they're called rainbows.

I fished the entire stretch of river from the park down to the mouth of Dry Fork Creek several times over. I would pick up a trout here and there, but the fishing was far from great. The thing that made it a truly great day was the wilderness feel of the river. For those who don't know, the Meramec River is basically party central during the summer. Solitude is difficult if not impossible to come by then, but now was different. I saw only one canoe, and no other fisherman. There is nothing like standing in a beautiful cold water stream casting to trout, with no one else in sight. Definitely a great day.

Hunting, Fishing, and Camping in Missouri's Ozark Mountains

2009-09-25T22:24:00.000-05:00

Image via Wikipedia

When most people think of a hunting and fishing paradise, they most likely think of Montana, Alaska, Maine, or some other state in either the Rocky Mountains or the Appalachian Mountains. Few people travel from afar to experience the Ozark Mountains in Missouri, and to be honest, that's fine with me. This sole mountainous portion of Missouri and Northern Arkansas provides everything from fishing for wild spring creek trout to hunting mountain ridges for Whitetail deer, to camping in a remote national forest.. Wildlife viewing is great, and black bear have become quite common is some portions of the Ozarks, along with the normal assortment of fauna that can be found in the midwest and deep south. This is a beautiful place that is often overlooked.

Pictured above are the St. Francis Mountains of Southeastern Missouri. This is a particularly rugged and beautiful range of the ozarks. Other mountain ranges in the Ozarks include the Salem plateau in South-Central Missouri, the Springfield Plateau in Southwestern Missouri, and the Boston Mountains in Northern Arkansas. All are beautiful areas, with a considerable amounts of National Forest Land, available for hunting. Quality fishing streams flow through all of these ranges as well.

The Ozark Mountains are paradise for the hunter. The only big game species around are deer, but they are relatively abundant just about anywhere in this region. Tags can be bought over the counter by both residents and nonresidents, and are fairly inexpensive. One advantage to hunting this part of Missouri is the abundance of public land. Conservation areas as well as Mark Twain National Forest provide endless hunting opportunities for Whitetails. Some of the conservation areas are specifically managed for deer and have food plots planted, but mostly, this is big woods hunting. To have success, you absolutely must be where the acorns are, as they are a primary food source. Creek bottoms with stands of Oaks are great. It is even better if the creek is spring-fed, as are many creeks in the Ozarks. This way, it will provide a year-round source of water. Don't expect most of the deer to be large here, but based on antlers that I have found on the ground before, there are big bucks to be found. Other hunting opportunities include great squirrel hunting, impressive turkey hunting, and limited opportunities for rabbits as well as upland game. This is a great place to hunt, and is the only place in Missouri that you can truly hunt in the wilderness.

Fishing in the Ozark Mountains is all about fishing for Smallmouth Bass, Trout, and Bream. The Ozarks are second only to the Great Lakes Region when it comes to Smallmouth Bass fishing. Virtually all decent sized streams and rivers hold smallies, and the region has some truly world class waters. They include the Jacks Fork River, Current River, Bryant Creek, and the Gasconade River. Smallmouth fishing can be as simple as buying a can of worms, buying some size 4 hooks, some split shot, and heading down to the river and taking a few casts. It can be as complicated as renting a boat with a motor, buying a full array of tube baits, crankbaits, and spinnerbaits. That's your choice, but you'll find something for you here.

Trout fishing is also very good in the Ozarks. There are many year-round trout streams to choose from, and all are spring-fed, with the exception of Lake Taneycomo and the White River tailwaters. Some of these trout streams are small creeks supporting a few, wild Rainbow Trout, some are trophy Brown Trout hotspots, and some streams are heavily stocked, with four streams being stocked daily.

Canoeing is another popular activity in the Ozarks. For those who want to float and fish, you can't beat the Current River. Here you can cast to trophy rainbow and browns, then fish for smallmouth, rock bass, and bream when you get further downstream. Another beautiful float fishing stream is the Jacks Fork River. This spring-fed river is a special management zone for smallmouth, and it shows. Just about any of the normal baits work here, with tube jigs topping the list. Other good streams to float and fish are The North Fork of the White River and the Eleven Point river for trout. For smallmouth, float the Gasconade River, Osage Fork River, Meramec River, Big Piney River, and the upper Black River. Camp on gravel bars on any of these rivers for the ultimate experience.

Whatever you come to the Ozarks to do, you can be assured to find beautiful mountains, spring-fed rivers, and windy roads. It's a great place to visit, and you almost surely will have a great time.

Wild Trout in the Ozarks

2009-08-30T20:28:00.000-05:00

Image by Gino via Flickr

The littlest known trout fishery in the Ozark hills would definitely be the small wild trout streams that lace southern Missouri. These streams get very little pressure, and they provide excellent fishing. But they aren’t for everyone. It takes a lot of work, and a bit of skill to take these stream-bred trout. If you like easy fishing for hatchery raised trout, chances are you’ll only be frustrated. If you enjoy being on a quiet, natural stream, and catching trout on their own terms, you’ll really enjoy this type of fishing.

Tactics are pretty universal for catching the wild rainbows that inhabit these small streams. In short, you want to imitate the natural food base. For that reason, if there’s a hatch, fly fisherman that are “matching the hatch”, will generally take more fish than others. When fish aren’t rising, spin fisherman, or fly anglers tossing streamers or nymphs will do quite well. In short, you have to know what the trout are feeding on at that particular moment to be successful.

Stealth may be an even more important element of success. If you spook the trout before you begin fishing, it won’t matter how enticing your offering is. When you come up on a likely run, wade quietly (i.e. do not step heavily or crunch gravel), and try to keep your profile down. Some even approach on their hands and knees. Also, do not allow your lure of fly to make a loud splash when it hits the water. The more educated fish will be put off their feed by this. If your fly fishing, keep your false casts to a minimum. For fly fisherman, 7x tippet is often necessary, and spin fisherman should use line no heavier than four pound test.

Only fish the productive water. There is no point in wasting your time on water that is unlikely to hold fish. In short, if there is little or no current, you won’t find many or any trout. Pools are a good place to fish, provided they have a decent current, and a defined channel. Riffles are arguably even more productive, especially on the larger creeks. Any thing over 10” deep can, and probably does hold trout from time to time.

Enjoy fishing, even if it’s slow. The biggest part of the fun in this type of fishing is just being out in nature on a wild stream. If that’s not enough for you to have a good day, these streams probably aren’t for you anyway. Also, enjoy every fish you catch. Any fish you catch in one of these streams is a trophy. You have taken it on its terms, in the wild. It doesn’t get any better.

Here’s a couple short lists to help you get started. First, is a list of wild trout streams, and the prime water in each of them. Note that the “prime water” that I highlight usually isn’t the entire area of stream managed for wild trout, just the stretch you’re mostly to find good populations of wild trout. Also, on all streams listed, artificial lures and flies only are allowed. You can keep one fish over 18”, but we encourage you release each one you catch. Next, I’ll list some lures and flies that are very successful on just about all the wild trout streams in the region. This is just a very general list, and there are no doubt many more that will get the job done.

Wild Trout Streams
1. Barren Fork Creek
Prime Water- Twin Springs to mouth
Description: This stream has a pretty low population of wild trout. With that said, you can find a few in some of the better holes. This is not a destination stream, but if your in the area anyway, you may as well give it a try. Public access is from Twin Spring downstream for about ½ Mile.
2.Mill Creek
Prime Water- Wilkin Spring to mouth
Description: This creek has a pretty respectable population of wild trout in the first few miles below Wilkin Spring. It’s not the stream it once was, but it’s definitely worth the trip if you like a good challenge. The MDC provides access below Wilkin Spring, and the Forest Service has an access on the stream’s lower reaches.
3. Spring Creek
Prime Water- Relfe Spring to mouth
Description: This creek has a decent trout population, and is very pretty. Also, it’s nearby several other trout streams, including Mill and Little Piney Creek. It’s definitely worth a few hours. There is public access on a nice stretch of stream toward the lower end.
4. Little Piney Creek
Prime Water- Highway 63 Bridge to CR 7460 Bridge (Vida Slab)
Description: This is an awesome creek, with a very good wild trout population. It used to be managed as a put and take fishery, but they stopped stocking it a few years ago, and instituted a length limit. Sure enough, the trout began spawning, and the Little Piney became one of the best wild trout streams in the Ozarks. Access is at the Highway 63 Bridge, Lane Spring Recreation area, and Vida Slab. There is a lot of quality water here, about seven miles in all.
5. Crane Creek
Prime Water- City of Crane to Quail Spur Road
Description: Home to one of the last pure populations of McCloud Rainbow trout, Crane Creek is an excellent fishery. Trout numbers are high, and this little stream is known around the country for its excellent fishing. Public access is found at the Crane City Park, and the Lower Wire Road Access. Unfortunately, some short-sighted folks are currently conspiring to dam it up, and form a lake. God forbid!
6. Blue Spring Creek
Prime Water- Blue Spring to mouth
Description: This tiny little creek is home to a tremendous population of wild rainbow trout. With 290 trout per mile, you won’t find a trout creek in Missouri with more fish. The catch is, they are very spooky, and difficult to catch. Also, this is a very tiny creek, and backcasting room is virtually non-existant. All except for the first few hundred yards of the creek are publicly owned. Access isn’t a problem.

Flies
1. Woolly Bugger, Olive, White, or Black #10
2. Prince Nymph #14-18
3. Pheasant Tail Nymph #14-18
4. Copper John #18
5. Hare’s Ear Nymph #14-18
6. Elk Hair Caddis #14-18
7. Don’s Crawdad #10
Lures
1. Panther Martin Spinner 1/24-1/32 ounce
2. Rooster Tail Spinner 1/24-1/32 ounce
3. Mepp’s Spinner #0
4. Little Cleo 1/16 ounce
5. Rebel Crawdad crankbait

A Great Day on the Bourbeuse

2009-08-23T12:10:00.000-05:00

Image by wormwould via Flickr

The Ozark streams in Missouri are a Godsend. They take your mind off of all of the present concerns on your mind, and, if you let them, can make you happy in a more elemental way than any manmade attraction. These streams are what they always have been, and God-willing, always will be. They are natural, they are free flowing, and they provide the healing water needed to make us feel like everything is right, if only for a little while.

The Bourbeuse River is one such stream. Flowing through forests and pastures in the beautiful Ozark border country of east-central Missouri, it embodies just about everything that makes a perfect stream. It's pretty remote, especially in its upper reaches, and for some reason, it just isn't popular with the party crowd that has ruined so many of our rivers. It's never very clear, and its always pretty slow and shallow, but it's very pretty in it's own way. It wouldn't strike someone crossing it on nearby Highway 50 as a truly beautiful stream, but it is the sort of stream that you learn to love.

We got to an access to the river at about noon. I waded down to a riffle just below the access, and began fishing. The water was very shallow, and there wasn't a lot of holding cover, but the fish were there. The fish species that I caught the most of is the longear sunfish. This little sunfish is about the most beautiful fish anyone could ever hope to catch. They're almost without exception small, but they are the most exquisitely colored fish I have seen. They are predominately light orange, with lines of blue and white throughout their body. No picture will do them justice.

The other species of fish I caught were smallmouth bass. They are nearly as beautiful, but in an entirely different way. For hundreds or maybe even thousands of years, they were the dominant predator on this river. They swam the river at their own leisure, and no other species of fish challenged them. This is changing rapidly. The spotted bass (a non-native species), began ruthlessly invading the river in the 1980s, and still no one has figured out how to stop them. In some areas of the river, they have almost totally displaced smallmouth. In other areas, they are still in the process of doing that. The area where I fished yesterday will surely fall victim someday, but as of yet it has avoided the ravages of spotted bass, although they have been seen in the area in small numbers. The whole situation is very sad.

But for now, this particular stretch of river is just as it has been for centuries, or nearly so. It may not always be, and that is a concern. We must try to save this fishery.

But for now, there is something to be said for just enjoying the moment.

Dams on our Ozark Streams

2009-07-23T11:43:00.001-05:00

Image via Wikipedia

For those who don't know, there are several dam proposals for streams in Southwestern Missouri, for the purpose of additional drinking water. These dams aren't being planned on a typical barnyard creek, they are planned on some of our best Ozark streams. This plan has the potential to destroy several trout and smallmouth bass fisheries. I, as well as other conservation minded folks, are determined to stop any of these dams from being built. Two of the streams where dams are being considered are Crane Creek and Shoal Creek. These are both premier Ozark fisheries, and these dams would destroy entire stretches of water.

The possible reservoir at Crane Creek is possibly the most biologically damaging. The stream is home to a rare strain of trout, the McCloud Rainbow. The dam on Crane Creek would be an off-stream reservoir, and water would have to be pumped from the creek, quite possibly the trout holding portion. This stream already has extreme water flow problems, and any water sucked from the creek could potentially kill the fishery.

Shoal Creek is nearly as significant of a stream. The stretch that would be affected is an excellent fishery for native and wild smallmouth bass, largemouth bass, goggle-eye, and bluegill. Also, the dam could well affect Capps Creek (an excellent trout stream), which is not far above the proposed dam site.

If you don't want to lose any more free-flowing streams, or excellent fisheries, please stand with us in the coming fight. Email Trout Unlimited, the Missouri Department of Conservation, or anyone else you think might be able to help us. Don't do it for the fish. Do it for yourself and your children.

Ozarktroutfisher

Good Fishing Ahead for Missouri Trout Anglers

2009-07-21T23:49:00.000-05:00

Image by bsmith4815 via Flickr

Summer is usually the hardest time to catch trout in Missouri. It hasn't panned out that way this year, however. Spring trout fishing, was as a whole, horrific this year. Most of the streams were blown out all spring, and it reminded me of the snowmelt season out west, except that liquid precipitation was the cause as opposed to heavy winter snow. There were exceptions. For the most part, the perennially steady, easy going upper Current stayed fishable, as well as some small streams like the Little Piney. But other notable streams like the Meramec were unfishable for months at a time, something unheard of in Missouri.

Now, it's late July, and things are drying up a bit. Still, instead of the normal summer low water, you'll find the water levels perfect for fishing. It seems to me that rivers like the Meramec that have been blown out almost since March are ripe for some excellent fishing, with the water conditions the way they are now. Also the Current, Eleven Point, and the Little Piney are just a bit low, but conditions are basically perfect for excellent trout fishing. Water temperatures are pretty favorable at all area trout streams, which means anglers have a good chance to find healthy, actively feeding trout. If your fishing for stream-wise (aka not trout park fish), you'll want to throw 1/24 ounce spinners, or 1/32 white jigs. With either offering, make sure to add enough split shot to be within striking distance of the bottom. Live minnows and worms are also great where legal. Fly fisherman will do well on any nymph or crawfish imitating fly, so long as it bumps bottom. This always requires extra weight in our deeper streams. Most importantly, fish only mornings and evenings. Better yet, forgo the canoe hatch, and almost all other fisherman, by fishing a brown trout stream in the dead of night.The Current River below the park, the North Fork of the White between Patrick Bridge and Dawt Mill, and the Niangua below Bennett Spring would all be good options. Size 0 and 1 Mepp's Black Fury Spinners work well, as do Rapalas, live crayfish, and minnows. Black streamers (woolly buggers are a good place to start) are always good bets for the fly-fisherman.

The moral to the story is, you don't have to resort to the trout parks, or even bass and catfish in the summertime. You just have to adjust you techniques to the times. And it does help that the conditons are perfect for excellent fishing.

Even if you don't catch anything, you have a stream, trout (which seem to be smarter than us at times), and, if you stay long enough, a pretty sunset. Pretty hard to beat if you ask me.

Ozarktroutfisher

Montauk State Park Fishing 6/18

2009-06-24T12:38:00.000-05:00

Image via Wikipedia

Well, I proved how crazy of a fisherman last Thursday. I woke up at 2 AM in order to get there in time for the morning park opening, and made it there about an hour early. I got to my favorite plunge pool, and immediately after the opening siren began plying the depths with a powerbait rig. I managed to bring one pretty little rainbow to net, and then the fishing seemed to drop of like a rock. I fished fruitlessly every accepted trout lure and bait throughout the entire park for several hours. Then, I decided to go back to the same hole I had started the day, and fish the other side of the stream. I tied on the same Powerbait rig I started the day with, but instead of slow fishing, I began catching fish regularly. Its funny how fishing works. By the time I was started to really get into the fish, the air temperature was in the nineties, and it would stand to reason that fishing would be getting worse, not better. Apparentely, fish don't always listen to reason, or follow predicatable patterns. And that is what makes our sport so interesting

Wild Trout on Little Piney

2009-06-08T14:39:00.000-05:00

Image by ejunk via Flickr

Well, on a trip to Montauk State Park, I decided to camp at Lane Spring Recreation Area on Little Piney Creek. I did this for two reasons: One, I didn't want to deal with the crowded campground at Montauk State Park, and two, I knew that Little Piney Creek at Lane Spring is one of the best wild trout streams in the region. I got over an hour to fish on Friday night, and it was a great time. As I waded down the quiet stream, I saw no one else fishing. I cast to every likely hole with a 1/32 ounce Panther Martin, and managed two beautiful wild rainbow trout.

After doing the trout park deal for a couple days, I went back to Little Piney for an afternoon of wild trout fishing. I headed back to the secluded stream, and managed one more wild trout before I had to pack up and leave.

Fishing for Channel Cats in Missouri

2009-06-04T16:20:00.000-05:00

Image via Wikipedia

Channel Catfish are the single most common game fish in the state of Missouri. Except for a few spring creeks, every lake, river, creek, and pond in Missouri that has any fish has them. They are also pretty easy to catch, if you have a general idea where to start.

The best beginners catfish bait would be a simple nightcrawler. In a river, you want it to bounce along the bottom, without being pinned. In a lake, you want to cast it out, and let it sit for a few minutes. Chicken Liver, and Berkely stinkbait also work well. Put them on your hook, and throw it out there, and let it sit. You want these rigs to sit for ten minutes or so, because the primary attraction of these baits is by scent. Live bluegills betwee 2 and 5 inches are also great for bigger channel cats. Hook them just under the spine on a 1/0 plastic worm hook. Put a split shot just above the bait, and cast it into deep structure, with 4 to 10 feet of water being preferable. Big channel cats will hit these with a vengeance, and they can really bust up tackle, so good luck. But it works, as a matter of fact I just caught a chunky five pounder using this method yesterday, and caught a nice two pounder on a nightcrawler.

Good luck, and if you fish for channel cats, don't forget that cooking oil or fish batter.......

Ozarktroutfisher

Fishing the Beautiful Current River

2009-06-01T21:56:00.000-05:00

Image by Kevin Saff via Flickr

Southern Missouri's Current River is a jewel. It is part of the Ozark Scenic Riverways National Park, and is protected from all development. Furthermore, its water is extremely cold and clear, as nearly all of it issues from springs, one of which is the world's largest.

The river gets its start at Montauk State Park, an excellent trout park. For the next twenty miles, it is managed for trout, and an angler can find plenty of trophy brown and rainbow trout along the way. Below there, its smallmouth bass water. Also, down towards Van Buren, you run into some of the best walleye fishing the Midwest has to offer.

Here's to the Current River's crystal clear water, and the beautiful vistas that surround it.

Ozarktroutfisher

Fishing the Missouri Trout Parks

2009-06-01T15:19:00.000-05:00

Image via Wikipedia

Missouri trout parks are truly unique to Missouri. Although I’m not entirely sure, I believe they are the only waters in the United States that are both public, and stocked daily with trout on a regular basis.

March First through October 31, the four trout parks are stocked every evening with several hundred rainbow trout. The four parks are Maramec Spring Park near Rolla, Montauk State Park near Salem, Bennett Spring State Park near Lebanon, and Roaring River State Park, which is not far from Springfield. All are between one and three miles in length, and conditions are usually crowded.

Baits and lures tend to be different from our more natural Missouri trout streams. First of all, it should be noted that all of these parks except for Maramec Spring are divided up into zones. Usually, there is a zone for fly fishing only (single hooked rooster tails fished on a spinning rod is considered fly fishing by Missouri’s definition, it says so right in the regulation book). Then, usually there is a section for artificial lures and flies only, where the main difference, is basically that treble hooks are allowed. Then there is usually a section, usually at the lower end of the park, where all baits and lures are allowed. At Bennett Spring, flies and lures are not allowed in the bait area, but in all the other trout parks, any kind of equipment can be used in the bait area, short of nets, gigs, and snagging etc.

In the fly area, about half of the people will be “jig fisherman” who use ultralight spinning rods. These people use tiny (1/32 or 1/64 ounce) marabou jigs. White, olive, black, pink, and yellow are all popular colors. The successful ones will be using 2 or 4 pound monofilament. Of course many people will also be using traditional fly fishing methods. They throw woolly buggers, marabou streamers, egg patterns, and various other gaudy flies. Some also have success on traditional nymphs and dries.

In the artificial area, good success can be had on a variety of lures. Perhaps 1/16 ounce Little Cleo spoons and rooster tail spinners top the list, but small rapalas and other crankbaits are also extremely effective.

Wherever bait is allowed, rainbow colored powerbait reigns king. Ball up a small chunk of powerbait on a size 8 hook, and put a split shot about a foot up. Cast out into a deep hole, and wait. Nightcrawlers are another popular bait. Generally, they are best used when site fishing to a specific fish, but they can also be fished under a bobber in fast water. Set the hook at any resistance. Some use half nightcrawlers, some use whole nightcrawlers. For me, it seems that I get about equal bites on either, so its pretty much just a matter of preference. Other baits that are very successful include canned sweet corn and various homemade dough baits, most of which involve Velveeta cheese and bread crumbs.

However you prefer to fish, the trout parks are the surest bet that you will catch fish in Missouri. It takes away the problem of finding fish, and catching them is pretty easy to.

Happy fishing

Ozarktroutfisher

Smallmouth Fishing in Ozark Streams

2009-06-01T15:09:00.000-05:00

Image via Wikipedia

Smallmouth bass are one of the most common game fish species in Missouri. They tend to inhabit our more fast moving ozark streams, especially those with clear, cool water. They like to inhabit faster moving pools and runs, and even riffles sometimes when they want to feed.

Popular lures for Missouri smallmouth are extremely varied. Possibly the most popular lure is a tube bait, rigged on a large jighead. Two inches to 3 1/2 inches is about the right size. Cast it out, and let it tick along the bottom, with a few jigging motions of the rod. Green and brown tend to be the best colors. Crawfish crankbaits are also extremely popular. Most people prefer to reel them in quickly, and churn up the bottom. Other popular lures include rapala crankbaits, grub jigs, and flipping jigs.

Spring Creek Fishing in the Ozarks

2009-06-01T14:51:00.000-05:00

I'll admit that I have pretty limited experience fishing for trout here in the Ozarks. Still, I know about a few streams, and may just know enough to be helpful to a few newcomers.

Here's what I've learned. Stealth is the most important factor. If you scare the fish before you get to the pool you want to fish, it won't matter how tasty your offering appears to be. Approach a pool on your hands and knees is best, but not necessary.

Secondly, you should try to keep you lure sizes pretty small. Fly fisherman do well on size 14 to 18 nymphs and dries, with Elk hair caddis, Pheasant tail nymphs, hare's ear nymphs, and marabou streamers topping the list. Spinfisherman are best to use small spinners and spoons. Mepps, Panther Martin, Little Cleo, and Kastmaster are all good brands. Lures should be no larger than 1/16 ounce in most wild trout creeks.

Other than that, have fun, enjoy the excellent scenery the Ozarks have to offer, and don't expect to catch more than a few trout each outing.

Happy fishing, and heavy nets.

Ozarktroutfisher