June 22, 2005

The Frog Whisperer

 

I promise this will be the last you hear on this subject but I can’t let this get by.

I don’t know what I’m going to do with Dixon (Bruce that is).  I think I’ll call him Dixon from this point on.

We were standing in the river night fishing and I guess the Beanie Weenies were still affecting Dixon because he let one go.  When he did, and this is the honest truth, frogs started responding.  I swear this is the truth!  Every frog within 500 yards was suddenly falling in love with Dixon.  I turned his direction and said “My God Dixon”.  And how did he respond to me?   Dixon made a frog sound.  He is a handful.

 

There is going to be what will seem like kind of a time warp here but really it’s not.  We fished until noon yesterday at the Norfork tail then went to Mountain Home to telegraph our reports.  When we returned they were generating and the river wasn’t expected to be wadeable until 10 p.m.  So the time warp is in our strategy and that strategy calls for more night fishing. 

Now, what do you do if you meet the best nighttime fly fisher around and he tells you he has some special waters that await you (if you want to go)?  Duh!  You go a-fishing with Mr. John Gully of Norfork, Arkansas. John is a super nice guy and he told me before guiding here in Arkansas he was a salt-water guide for many years.  You can find out more about John at his website flyguide.com.  But anyhow we’re not going to pass on this opportunity in getting access to some good trout water. 

John invites us to his home on River Ridge road.  He tells us to be there around 8 p.m. and we would go a-fishing shortly thereafter.  John has a really nice site right on the Norfork tail waters.  We got to watch him tie some flies and man…can he ever tie.  Earlier in the day John was at our campground and he was giving free casting tips and tricks so Dixon and I get in line.  John is extremely patient and helpful.  He showed Dixon how to improve his double haul and John showed me how to enhance my distance casting.  John’s son Jeremiah is only thirteen and John says Jeremiah can cast ninety feet. 

About an hour after we arrive at John’s home we all suit up and go to that special place of Johns’.  John and Jeremiah fish with us for about an hour and then they have to go. Tonight I am using an Arky Streamer, which is a take-off of the black nose dace.  John also ties up some special Wooly Buggers.  The Buggers are black and have blue flash-a-bou as lateral lines.  The blue color is the most important part of these flies.

 

The moon is full and many say never fly at night on the moon.  The theory is it slows the fishing down.  Moonlight dilates the fish’s eyes and actually makes it easier to see leaders and tippets.  A 5X probably looks like a well rope to the trout on a moonlit night.  Tonight we are using the lightest tippet we dare and it is 5X. There are some bruiser Browns in here and when you get one on don’t have any appointments scheduled because you will likely be late.

God help me, I love these trout.  I love their fastidiousness and their sleekness.  While battling one bow this evening I could tell exactly what he was doing in the water even though it was pitch dark.  I could tell from the vibrations I was feeling through the rod tip.  It was almost like Morse code and I knew the trout was head shaking, twisting, turning, and doing sub surface somersaults. What a wonderful thing to experience.

My goodness do we ever get in the trout.  We experience engagement after engagement, skirmish after skirmish, and battle after battle. We win as many battles as we loose.  It’s a draw so to speak.  The trout then begin to feint and toy with us.  Soft subtle bumps and nips… their way of aggravating fly-fishers. 

 

I have the digital with me but taking pictures at night standing in a river is pretty tough.  I figure I can get one of Dixon okay but taking pictures of my warriors is going to difficult.  I bring to the net a nice Brown and blow that picture.  Instead of trying to get another I decide to give my friend a little help and revive him slowly.  Then I get a nice bow and bring him to the net.  Here I am trying to deal with a rod, a fish in the net, with my digital strap in my mouth.  First I have to get the hook out and then try to one hand the bow while holding the rod between my legs and snapping the picture with the other hand completely blind.  So…sorry about the quality of the pictures. 

Before we know it 2:00 a.m. rolls around.  The night air is almost down right cold.  Our feet feel like stumps, line and rod hands are numb, and I’m flying with half closed eyelids.  And then there’s that noise across the way.

Did you know Arkansas has bears?

There is something really big thrashing through the woods just across from me.  It’s big, really big.  My hearing tells me this isn’t any raccoon or possum.  I could have sworn I seen two big eyeballs too.  Crap on this…I going to the Schooner.

 

If Dixon wants to stay in the water he can.  I just hope he realizes that he could easily become dinner.

 

I think there are Bigfoots in Arkansas also.

This is Wednesday morning I think.  Just three hours of sleep for me last night.  Dixon is sawing logs right now and I’m running on empty finishing this report. 

This is a sailing day for us.  We have had an absolute wonderful time on these holiest of waters.  We’re convinced they are somehow and somewhat divinely touched.  The eastern sky is revealing the sun kissed trees so I know daylight is approaching. 

We will be packing up shortly and sailing for out next port of call in Roaring River, Missouri.  I like Missouri.  To me Missouri is not the “show me” state but rather the “show me the trout state”!  Hey, they’ve got em’ and we’re going to get em’.  Yeehaw!

Dixon is still snoozing, so he must be really tired.  We both have pushed ourselves to the limit these past seven days. Today we have to talk and make some decisions.  A look-see in the saddlebags reveals the bankroll is going down.  The Schooner ponies have been driven hard and they have required a lot of feed and pony feed is not cheap these days.

 

I think Dixon may be getting a little punchy on me.  He asked me a dad gum silly question last night (early this morning) when he hit the bedroll.  “Barry, do you ever get tired of fly-fishing?”  “Why crap no Dixon, I fly on my lunch hours.”  “Do you ever get tired of fly-fishing Dixon?”  “No way, I love fly-fishing.”  He may have been half asleep.  Then there was something else he said that kind of worried me.  He said something to the effect that he was “perplexed by my Okie omninism.”  That’s two big words in one sentence for Dixon and I don’t think one of them was even a word but I know it’s root derivative and I don’t think it was exactly a compliment.

We have to hoist anchor and shove off. Steppenwolf is in the player and Magic Carpet Ride is the tune – good sailing music.  See you on down the prairie ocean.

Long live the Norfork tail waters and long live our home waters Blue River.

Barry & Bruce
The Blue River Bummers

Sail On With The Bummers