June 24, 2005
Extra Terrestrials
Roaring River is both a wonderful and frustrating place. We chose Roaring River because of the camping opportunities, the fishing opportunities at the river itself, and the geographic position it put us in. From Roaring River we can be at the Beavers tail in about twenty minutes. Taneycomo is only an hour or so away also.
However, there are crowds at Roaring River and they are big crowds. When we first started fishing Roaring, Dixon and I cast almost everything we had in our fly boxes but all we got was refusal after refusal.
In my fly box I had some flying black ants I tied up and they had never been used much so I tie one on and I got an engagement only to lose the battle. Two casts later another engagement with a hook set and again lost that battle. As a matter of fact it would turn out I would get a number of engagements only to lose them all.
Dixon goes to terrestrials and he starts seeing action and loses the first couple of battles but then he gets his timing down right and ends up bring several bows to hand.
Meanwhile I lose my ant and as I look in my fly box I am pretty much void of terrestrials. Guess I should have brought some extra terrestrials.
Not to panic though, I got one of the best fly tiers around in Dixon but by nightfall he will be too tired to tie so maybe we can get on it in the morning. I can tie but not at the speed of Dixon.
We need to take the time to thank Jake at the Beaver Dam Store for some right on information about Roaring River. Jake, we hope to fly-fish with you someday.
Roaring River is an interesting place. The fish hatchery at Roaring is one of my favorite places. There is a gumball machine full of fish food at the large holding pond and for two bits you can feed the trout. It’s a blast watching them boil the water after those pellets.
What makes the trout fishing so frustrating is the crowds. These trout are hammered each and every day. Without a doubt these fish have seen it all time and time again. To give you an idea of how pressured these fish are then consider that this river is stocked everyday. The daily stockings while we are here are one thousand fish a day. These waters are not the kind Dixon and I really care for.
It is 5:30 a.m. Friday morning and I am in the Schooner writing this and letting Dixon sleep in. As we approach the ending of this experience I find myself reflecting more and more about the whirlwind adventure we have been on. It has been almost like being caught in a prairie twister of fun and excitement.
If you remember we reported about how we got some much-welcomed casting improvement instructions the other day. Well that new information seems to have both of us messed up in our casting. We both know it’s simply trying to make something new to us work. Then along the way we have been trying to process countless tidbits of new fly-fishing information from many individuals along the way. Trying to process and dissect all that information also has our minds kind of warped. Yesterday I told Dixon that maybe we should just be ourselves. Being ourselves has always worked for us and by gosh that’s what we are going back to.
In the reflecting moments of late I also keep recalling all the wonderful water we have been to. With rivers and streams I am reminded of what Leonardo da Vinci once wrote, “When you put your hand in a flowing stream, you touch the last that has gone before and the first of what is still to come.”
In the reflecting moments of how Dixon and I have been remotely and diminutively involved in the greatness of nature we are reminded of John Muir and how he emphasized time and time again how nature is such a good mother. Indeed, she is a wonderful mother.
It’s been one hell of a voyage folks.
The Condition of Our Condition
Again, today is Friday, June 24th and this is our tenth day out which we guess makes us official or something. We’re not ready to quit though.
However, here is our condition. Today we will fish Roaring River again and may try to go to the walk in area off of park boundaries. We may also take a gamble and go back to the Beaver tail and hope they are not generating. Tomorrow we will go to the Beaver tail to fish a different stretch of that river.
There is enough money in the saddlebags to get us back to where we began this journey – Blue River. We said in the beginning we wouldn’t fish Blue but we are, we have to. That is where we started and we want to come full circle. We know the remaining trout of Blue will be extremely hard to find but we don’t care.
Our remaining funds will get us to where we are going which is the place we begin and there is no room for anything else such as supplies, licenses, or any other things trout bums require. There is a little over forty bucks in the bags.
Today we must fish and then we have to once again try and find an Internet connection. We bombed out yesterday and didn’t get to send a report. We’re not off grid exactly, but we are out in the dad gum boonies. We can’t get a cell phone signal. I used the remaining minutes on my calling card to call in and let the tournament sponsors know we are still out here. I’m down to maybe less than ten more servings of coffee and I certainly don’t want to go into coffee deprivation related stress-out mode.
So, that’s where we are. I think now I’ll get Dixon up and go fly for a while.
We go to the river and Dixon starts out with his terrestrials again and the action slowly starts to heat up.
I wander downstream and find the kind of water I love. This water is semi-fast, shallow, with pockets and lots of rock structure.
Today, Dixon and I will fish like we did as kids. We are just going to have fun. We’ll throw them junk flies and everything else. I plan on sitting on this boulder where I’m at and enjoy the shade. The temperature is forecast for the nineties today. I tie on my ole friend the Zug Bug and he rewards me right off the bat with a nice little Rainbow. Several casts later and I get a good hook up with a larger Rainbow. This ole boy knows what he is doing and he goes straight downstream toward two fly-fishers about twenty feet downstream. I have my three weight with 6X and there is no stopping him. This fish is the only fish that has broken my tippet on this adventure. What a wonderful battle! I then switch to a size 18 Bead Head Pheasant Tail and am rewarded once again and I win this battle.
It’s almost noon now and Dixon wants to take a break from the heat and he’s not going to get an argument from me.
It was so wonderful fishing like a kid this morning. I was casting over boulders and slacking my line using those boulders. I felt so relaxed this morning.
My grandfather taught me to fish forty-five years ago and he probably didn’t realize it at the time but he gave me a gift of a lifetime and he has lasted a lifetime.
Dixon has been fishing since he was eight years old and told me his great uncle Bill along with Dixon’s dad introduced him to fishing.
There is a pretty little blonde that works at the fly shop at Roaring River and Dixon has been flirting a lot with her. On a tip she gave this morning we think we may have found an Internet source so we’re headed there right now.
Tomorrow we will head back to the Beaver tail. If they are generating then we have run out of water and will return to our home waters to seek the Rainbows there.
12:30 p.m. Well we just got back from driving thirty miles out of the way driving to find an Internet ready computer. We bombed again. We found the library but they do not allow the loading of cd’s because of viruses and such. I can’t say I blame them. We stop at Tim’s Fly Shop to see if he has a computer and he tells us he just took it out of his shop. We’re going to give up on the Internet thing and please accept our apologies for not getting our reports and pictures in on a timely fashion.
So…we’re going a-fishing again. I go back to my shade tree heaven I found earlier this morning. I tie on a size 24 Adams and BAM – fish on! I make another cast and BAM – fish on. I switch to size 24 White Moth and BAM – nothing. Then I go to a Crackleback and again BAM – fish on. This continues for quite sometime and then ole Barry boy gets sleepy so I stretch out on some rocks, fold my vest into a pillow and take me a siesta.
Two hours later. Man, I must have been more tired than I thought. Dixon has been all over the river by now. I have to tell you this man cannot get enough fly-fishing in. I’ve never seen anyone like him he just won’t quit. He wears a beetle pattern and Crackleback completely out.
Although this hasn’t been the best day for me as far as battles (and I’ve had a good number today) or size of fish, I believe it is the day I have enjoyed the most. I have had a wonderful time fly-fishing and relaxing within nature.
I believe I witnessed a wonder of nature earlier today. I engaged a rainbow that proved to be quite a warrior and truthfully I did a lousy job of bringing him to hand. The fish was really tired. I thought I had him revived when I let go of his tail and he did swim off. But when the current hit him he bellied up and sank. I couldn’t get to him because this was a non-wadeable area of the river. Then, I watched two larger Rainbows come to the smaller one and with their snouts nudge him until he was upright. The smaller fish held there for a couple of minutes and them swam away. It was a truly wondrous sight to experience.
Earlier I saw a man walking his dog and I got my first hint of being homesick. I miss my little trout-scouting poodle – Smokey. Yep, I have a poodle that has a passion for trout. When I get back where I live one of the first things I will do is to take ole Smoker for a walk along the waters edge in Chickasaw National Recreation Area, which is in my hometown. He loves his walks and I love his walks.
Dixon just found out his brother is headed for the Little Red in Arkansas and now Dixon is worried about who is taking care of the chickens back at his place.
We both know we are going to have to go home.
Here comes Dixon and his face is red as a beet. It is really hot here today – somewhere near the mid nineties. I think he is finally ready for a break.
6:30 p.m. Well the break didn’t last long because we are headed back to the river.
You know when things start to go bad they seem to snowball on you sometimes. This afternoon was like that. I went to the same shady spot I fished earlier today. Earlier I was stepping all over the boulders and even took a nap on them. This evening when I arrive at this spot I step on the same boulders as I did earlier and then I seen it at my right foot. A snake, and you remember what I said how me and snakes get along
I guess I looked like Ricochet Rabbit because the guy downstream got such a good laugh I thought he would suffer a hernia. Personally I didn’t think it was too dang funny. I was far enough back to zoom in for a picture, which I did but we might not ever see it and there is a reason why. I found a long stick, a very long stick, and poked ole sneaky snake until him disappeared under a crevice. Was it poisonous? Heck, I don’t know, to me they’re all copper-headed, rattled-tailed, cottonmouths.
On my tippet is one of Dixon’s beetles and I battle two Rainbows rather quickly. Then the third Rainbow comes and he is a beauty. A beauty not in his size necessarily but his colors and I want a picture. The digital strap is in my mouth again because Dixon is always off fishing when I need him to take my picture. I one hand the Rainbow, snap the picture and then it happens. The digital goes in the river.
I got that camera twelve days ago just for this trip and it’s not working right now.
And there’s more.
You remember how those terrorists’ raccoons attacked us the other night? The birds took their shots at us today. A whole squadron of birds was having a really big time, partying and such, probably saying “Whasss up” and crap like that at our campsite. They devoured a loaf and a half of bread and a six-pack of cheese and crackers. Then as if to add insult to injury I found bird poop on my Dutch Oven. I just hope all that sodium they took in today bloats their butts.
My goodness, did we ever battle Rainbows today. I hope nobody is interested in the numbers because they seem overtly gross. I’ll go as far as saying we battled more than ten and less than one hundred.
It’s been a day and the shower is calling us. Besides that I think all of our camping neighbors are passing a petition that probably mandates we take that shower.
Long live Roaring River and long live our home waters Blue River.
Barry & Bruce
The Blue River Bummers
Sail On With The Bummers
