Return to the Tailwaters...

As far as our trout fishing goes this year, we haven't really spent that much time over on the White and Norfork Rivers as much as we have in the past. Honestly, we got kinda burnt out and was looking for a change of scenery. Thus, we spent most of the late winter and spring over on the North Fork of the White in Missouri. It was great. Treated us really well with some epic streamer fishing trips for the browns and plenty of spunky wild rainbows on the bobber to pass the time. We loved it. Can't wait to get back over there this fall...

After that, smallie season kicked off and we have been basically spending most of our time on the smallie rivers chasing after those beloved bronze-backs. We have had a pretty good year too. Plenty of water after an awesome wet spring and lots of hungry fish came to hand. Its been pretty sweet. Well, here we are, its prime summer time fishing  and we have started to think about trout again. Especially catching big brown trout on that beloved foam bug over on our beloved tailwaters. From our previous post, you saw that the Professor and I had already tested the waters and found some hopper eating fish but it was time to get the rest of the crew involved. Lets roll...

Day 1  

With the primo conditions to throw hoppers happening in the evening with the higher flows on the White, we opted to start the trip over on the Norfork with a low-water float to wade fish all the fishy spots along the river. Most everyone dug out the 5-weights and rigged up a bobber with some kinda nymphy bug below it. We dumped the boats in at the dam and made our way down to the 1st spot where my boat started at the big riffle above the island while the Professors boats set up shop at the island. Things were kinda slow for us on the riffle  minus Crik finding his groove and plucking some decent fish out while Nathan caught a few and I was flat out striking out. Gotta love it...

We pushed on downstream from there, hitting all the fishy spots that we have wade fished for years during low water before we had boats. Its cool getting to see spots change that you have fished over the years but the fish are always there. Always. It was typical Norfork bugs as always....small streamers, eggs, scuds, and the odd mayfly variation (one in particular that I'm not gonna name cuz it works so good : ) thank you to my buddies in Montana for that one). All the guys were getting into the fish which is always plus. The Norfork typically treats us pretty well so we love the "princess of tailwaters" in all her glory.

Our final stop was the top island above the handicap access and everyone spread out on different water. It was good. Very good. Bent rods were seen every time I turned around. I even broke out the fiberglass glass rod rigged with a hopper/dropper rig just to see what I could do. Didn't take long as I plopped the foam nasty under an over-hanging tree and watched a fat rainbow come up to inhale the hopper. Brilliant. Had a few more eats on the foam bug but most were coming on the dropper in the fast water. Easy pickings. Man I love this river....

As the day wore on, we made a push to the boat ramp so we could make time for some lunch before sneaking over to the White in hopes of a foam bite. We loaded up the boats, stowed our gear, and headed over to Gassville to hit up our favorite pig out spot in the area, KT's BBQ. If you haven't hit this place up while fishing the White River, you are really missing out. Their BBQ is amazing and their sour cream potato salad is nothing short of epic. If I wore it as a hat, my tongue would beat my brains out trying to get to it. Anyways, we all made ourselves completely miserable with our lunch and enjoyed the AC for a bit before we loaded up to hit the White and chuck the foam....

As we made our way up to the boat ramp to drop in, our luck started to wear thin as a good ol' summertime thunderstorm started to move in. Isn't that just freaking dandy? I don't know what it is about the White but she can be a cruel mistress. When we want clouds and overcast skies to throw streamers, the sun shines bright as ever and when we wanna throw hoppers, the skies turn gray and it rains. Gotta love it. We stuck to your guns though and decided to see the trip through. We got to the ramp, rigged up 6-wts with foam bugs, and our 8-wts with big meaty streamers. Our target? Big brown trout....

Wish I could say that we had an epic float with several big browns to each boat on either hoppers or streamers but it just wasn't meant to be. We couldn't turn a fish on a streamer so we stuck to the foam bug and just kept hammering the banks. Finally, towards the end of the float, the sun tried poking out and it was like a light-switch for whatever reason. We started getting some eats on the hopper, missed a few fish here and there, and Joey finally put the 1st brown in the boat.

After a short streak of action, it shut back off again when the clouds returned. The fish were showing us no love at all for quite a while. We hit all the good banks, changed colors and sizes, and couldn't get it done. Frustration was beginning to set in and then it happened again, the sun decided to poke out again. It happened on 1 of the 2 last banks before the boat ramp so it was basically 4th and long for us to make it happen. I finally stuck a fat brown and wrestled it into the boat. Joey followed it up with a typical White River snake of a brown trout. Mix in a few feisty rainbows and a couple of LOFT inspired misses on some NICE browns right before the boat ramp to call it a night for us. It wasn't what we had hoped for but the river did show us a little love and gave up a few good browns so the trip wasn't a total loss...

Day 2

The next day, we returned to the 'Fork in hopes of another day of good numbers but it just wasn't meant to be. In all of the trips I have taken to fish the 'Fork, it has never fished bad. Never. It always produces for me. Well, I guess all good things must come to an end. It was a pretty tough day for us. The fish were just being weird and I'm still kinda wondering what happened. We managed to catch a few fish here and there but nothing like the day before. Of course, the Professor stuck more than his fair share of trout....the dude is fishy. It happens. We fought the slow bite for a while and then pushed on for the boat ramp as we had some time constraints to meet back home.

It was a good weekend. It was nice to get back to the Cotter/Mountain Home area and visit the old haunts both on and off the water. The hopper fishing wasn't what we had hoped for but it all worked out in the end. Everyone had a great trip and fish were caught. We can't complain...

Until next time, keep chasin' the dream...

The F3T Road Trip, Day #3

Day #3

The next morning, we all piled into the trucks for our final day on the water for our little road trip. We jogged south to Norfork, Arkansas to eat breakfast at our 2nd favorite greasy spoon breakfast spot in the Ozarks...the good ol' Norfork Cafe. Make sure and check it out. Its not bad! After we filled our bellies with pancakes, omelets, and biscuits n' gravy (Oh My!), we ran up to Norfork dam to dump the boats in while the COE was pumping out some good water for us. Shuttles were ran, boat spots were picked, and we were off....

To stick with the weekends on-going theme, we kept with the big sticks and chuckin' the big bugs in hopes of finding a unicorn. I don't know what it is about fly fishing and all the variables that go into making a presentation that will entice a fish to eat but on certain days, some guys have what I call the "touch". Doesn't seem to matter what bug they tie on, the fish are just gonna eat it. This day, that guy (or SOB if you're in the boat with him) was DonnyB. The dude was straight up being fishy and was dialed in. He was sticking rainbows and browns off all of the good banks and missed a ton of fish along the way. Cole and I just couldn't hang with him that day. It was pretty stupid, to be honest, but DonnyB is known to have days like this from time to time...

While DonnyB was having a grand ol' time sticking trout faces all morning, the rest of us weren't having the same kinda luck. Sometimes, you just have 1 of those days where nothing can go right on the river. Personally, while I was trying to clear out the line at my feet while fishing, my full sink SA line got hung up on a rock in the middle of the river. Before we could get the boat slowed down and headed back upstream, the rock it was on sliced the line in half. Just freaking great! I was able to retrieve all of my line but it was done. Gotta love it. In the other boat, JoeyC was having a few problems on his own. While tossing a big nasty double deceiver, he finally made contact with a unicorn (BFBT or big freaking brown trout). This wasn't your normal 2 footer either, it was bigger. According to The Professor, he fought the fish as well as anyone could and they chased the fish down with the boat but before they could get it in the net.....the fish just came off? Heartbreak...

We finished out the float and called it a day. We had plans to leave early enough to head back to Fayetteville in time to make a pit stop at McLellans Fly Shop and grab some dinner before heading to the F3T show. After squeezing 2 trucks and 2 drift boats into the cluttered parking lot where the fly shop was, we did some loitering in McLellans and BSed with Brock to kill some time. I picked up another spare spool for my Hatch Monsoon that I had ordered and bought a new SA Streamer Express full sink fly line to replace the broken line, brilliant! After some more loitering and BSin', we decided to go grab some grub and then head to F3T. Corey picked the establishment for which we would dine that afternoon and it was a dandy. It was a chain restaurant that's basically a spin off of Hooters and Twin Peaks, except the local talent wears kilts instead. Well, the food was alright and you could tell we had the Monday afternoon "talent" shift if you catch my drift. Yes, I'm still a prick...

We finally made it to the theater for F3T. The guys were pretty excited as Donny and Corey didn't attend last year and this year's film lineup looked to be pretty freaking awesome. We grabbed our seats and settled in. This year's film tour lineup was geared more to the freshwater crowd with quite a bit of "trout" related films as well as the normal exotic locales and exotic fish that probably 90% of us will never see or fish but they were still good films. Intermission was entertaining as always as the F3T crew do a great job and give away plenty of swag for the audience. Also, CTD as a group has been pretty lucky at these events. Last year, I won a free SA fly line of my choice but we doubled up on the swag this year. The Professor got a fly assortment from Montana Fly Company as well as a few other things and then Joey won a Montana Fly Company F3T Edition Boat Box! It is freaking awesome. We all hate him for it...

As far as the best films go, I would have to say that my favorites were "The Brothers Brown" and "Reel: A Day on the River". Both were geared towards the trout audience and had a really great story to go along with each film. "The Brothers Brown" really hit home with all of us as its about 3 brothers who go to the Lower Au Sable to chase the monster browns that live there with streamers out of drift boats. Sound familiar? It was an amazing film. that I think we all identified with. I will buy it when it hits DVD, no doubt. "Reel: A Day on the River" revolves around a handful of guides  and their daily lives up in the NorthEast that fish the Delaware River system which is kinda where modern American fly fishing was basically born. It's a great film as well. The F3T Tour is a great event, if you have a venue close by then you really should go. I think its an essential part of the future of our sport and where its heading. I think it helps to attract a younger generation of fisherman and to push current fisherman to enrich themselves deeper into the sport.

 

My Personal Favorite Film from F3T...

I don't really know what else to say about this trip that I haven't expressed in the previous blog posts. I guess all I can say is....it was a really damn good fishing trip!

 Until next time, keep chasing the dream...

 

Flying Solo...

Now most of us here at CTD live a fairly normal life. We have real 9-5ish jobs, families, and all those other ridiculous adult responsibilities that comes with being a contributing member of today's society. Its safe to say that none of us are true "fish bums" in the sense but we like to think we get out on a fairly normal basis and catch a few fish. Then you have the member of CTD that we like to call "The Professor" due to his un-canny ability to catch fish and being a student of the sport, you could say. His name is Corey Dodson and fish tremble at the mention of his name. He's the closest thing we have in the crew to being a "fish bum", as the cliché goes. He has a normal job.....and he fishes. If he could figure out a way to not work and fish all the time, he most certainly would. The dude is always going somewhere fishy once 5:00 arrives on Friday afternoon. We envy him....and hate him.

This brings me to the most recent trip that The Professor went on a few weeks ago. In typical fashion, the dude was flying solo in the ol' 'Yota, headed south for our beloved tailwaters in Arkansas with drift boat in tow. The plan was simple, as it always is, fish from dawn to dusk to catch as many fish as humanly possible. Corey spent a day on the Norfork and a day on the White, floating from spot to spot to wade fish the good runs. The fish cooperated and he put some nice Ozark 'bows and browns into the net. There's not much of a story to tell with Corey's solo trips, the dude just catches fish. I will let the photos do most of the talking...

Until next time, keep chasing the dream...

White River Shindig, Mad Dash, and Leaky Waders

THURSDAY

“You might be coming to my house and getting my boat. My babysitter is sick…”

I’d been up since 2 am, had just gotten home from work and was in the middle of a mad dash of last minute packing and gear checking. This was not the text I wanted to get from the Cajun, or as you know him, the guy that likes to call him self “The Bum”(face it man, The Dude didn’t pick his name, so neither can you. You’re out of your element)

This headache mess challenge, combined with The Shindig and 3 days on the water that went by all too fast, have resulted in some less that ideal remembering capabilities on my behalf. So you get to suffer through this, as I rip off a trashy recap with a few pics.

- Cajun gets to go, but may have to come back early. Pick up The Don, begin convoy to Springdale. Pick up Jimmy, final stretch to Mountain Home.

- Halfway there, get a call that the hotel has changed policy, lobby won't be open. Beg fishing buddy to go pick up our keys and leave em in his boat. Cuss the dumbass new hotel management. Make note to find new favorite hotel.

- Late night venture to Wally World, observe meth heads, buy beer and bran bricks, test out cold weather capabilities of Wally World rascals. Epic fail. Spend 40 mins trying to renew fishing licenses, flee with our lives but not our sanity.

-SLEEP

FRIDAY

-Wake up and cool down. The room heater seemed to think that 68 meant 108. Solution= Step outside to a balmy 12 degrees. A few clouds in the sky. Ready to rock.

- Drive up to Bull Shoals Dam, meet The Professor on the state park side. Gear up, launch boats. Toss a few casts on the way to breakfast, 100 yds down and across. Line freezes in the guides 6 casts in, spot fire on bank near breakfast. Time for breakfast.

- Bloody Mary's, biscuits n gravy, eggs, bacon, sausage, and little pieces of heaven called blueberry pancakes. Meet all of the faces we've been stalkin on the facepage for years, meet a few new faces to stalk. Oh yes, fire. Seagulls shitting and dive bombing biscuits. Perfect. Belly's are full, vodka has hit bingo, sun is topping the ridge. Boats start launching.

- Jimmy and Cajun set off, The Don jumps in with The Professor. I'm beginning to think I've been shanghi'd with Tucker and crew, then a Speedy Gonzales Hyundi comes liding to a stop, something to the tune of Bonz n Thugs or Taylor Swift blaring out the windows. Keep your shirt on ladies, Brian Wise has arrived.

- In short time the boat is in the water. A bottle of Capn Morgan chugs some coke and becomes affixed to the rowers hand bench. Tucker shows off within a mile and nets a 20" rainbow, convincing it to rest between his boots after the release for a close-up with the GoPro.

- Much time is spent oogling at new fly patterns dancing in the water. I remember how to row after 6 months of abstinece. We spend 20 minutes anchored in the middle of the river like stoned teenagers, enamored by the frozen mist coming off of the line on a strip and trying to film it. Somebody breaks the seal and we have to stop every 10 minutes thereafter. Homemade spicy trail mix is ravaged. Everyone admits to facestalking my girlfriend comments on how cute my girlfriend is. Wise professes his undying love for his hat.

- Not sure what happened in the other boats, but we at least have some pics to show they were actually fishing.

- The clouds had burned off early, fish weren't looking up, and nobody wanted to drag a bobber. The original plan was to make the float to Wildcat, stumble out of the boat and start cooking. Booze ran out before White Hole, so an audible was called and a shuttle arrived at White Hole full of Jimmy T and his enhanced iced tea. Word comes down that the inevitable has happened and the Cajun has to rush home.

- Grills roll out, food is prepped, people arrive by land and by sea. 10 states are repped, accents are thick and in the air. Before long a fire is lit, we're lit, and laughter is abound. Bullshit, tall tales, boasting and booze, nobody wants to call it a night. Our crew does a bit earlier than most, hoping that our room keys at the shoddy hotel might still work. Coco, Squatch, and Brad Paisley roll in from Tulsa, and Billiam appears in a cloud of dust from the north.

- SLEEP

SATURDAY

- Up with the sun and to White Sands for Friskies corned beef hash, steak, eggs, and coffee. Lots of glorious coffee. Tucker and crew roll in right before we roll out, accusing us of being ambitious, sober, and other nasty lies.

- Wildcat to Cotter is chosen, boats are launched, and we caught a few fish not far down the shoal. The sun was covered up momentarily as the generation reached us, hearts started beating faster and a few fish started chasing. Few good eats, no hard takes. Stupid trout. A glorious treasure trove of chocolate chip muffins are found in the Yeti. Water passes, clouds hang around a bit, no big fish.

- Cotter is reached with plenty of light. Jimmy, The Professor, and Billiam head to the Norfork for some wade fishing, the rest of us head to the bar. Some caught fish, some devoured nachos and beer, all ended up at the bar. An almond eyed redheaded vixen devoured Squatch with her eyes. Mullets were observed and judged. Tab out.

- A quick stop for beer ended with liquor sampling and a bottle of apple pie drunkennnness. Party (used lightly) raged on (again, lightly) at the hotel-motel-shithole inn. Some dickhead left the door open and cranked the heater, forgetting to mention said cranking of heater.

- SLEEP

SUNDAY

- Wake in sauna. Heater set at 86. Thanks. Dick.

- With no water generation and little desire to float slack, wading at Norfork was chosen. 5 wts were strung up and 8's left in the chariots, the bountiful bobber beatdown had begun. Some waded up, some down, some fished the access. Didn't matter, fish were caught. Big fish were sought, but 10-16" fish were present and coveted(My precioussssssss...). An equal opportunity moment for all fish to take notice of all flies. Eggs, dirt snakes, nymphos, stupid small midgets, and the occassional short stripper were presented on a silver platter and were eaten at random.

- Blood lust filled, we rigged down and headed back to Okieland. The Professor and Billiam stayed a while longer and nursed the river like a crack head nurses the pipe, before they too headed back to Carthage. A quick stop to see Dom at Two Rivers Fly Shop proved that great things are happening there. He's turned that shop around with some serious hard work, and he's got a pretty kick ass dog too.


CRIK


Oh yeah, my waders blew out early Sunday morning. Subsequent testing shows no durability. This pair is less than 2 years old.