June 17, 2005
Have Rods Will Travel
We arrived in Gore, Oklahoma late yesterday afternoon and went to Gore Landing. Gore Landing is a campsite area and we easily secured a camping spot while we fish the waters of the Lower Illinois.
This river is the tailwater stream coming from Tenkiller Lake Dam. The tailwaters meander for some ten miles to its confluence with the Arkansas River. Gore lays claim to being the trout capital of Oklahoma and no one will argue that point. The Lower Illinois is a year round fishery. Stockings take place every two weeks and both Rainbows and Browns are stocked. Fly-fishers can look forward to almost eight miles of designated trout water.
The Lower Illinois is also known for its tremendous striper fishing. During the warm months of Spring and Summer, stripers migrate upstream from the Arkansas River. Stripers weighing twenty-five or thirty pounds are not uncommon in the Lower Illinois.
One sight from this experience will probably remain with me forever. Bait fishers catch Rainbows and impale them on their hooks to use as bait for stripers. They also use balloons as corks. The fishers that are here today go around asking other fishers of trout if they can have one of their bows. Perhaps they should catch their own baitfish.
One of the most popular accesses to the Lower Illinois is MarVal Trout Camp. MarVal is a neatly well-developed RV and camping area. Both RV sites and primitive campsites are available. Restrooms and showers are readily available.
In Gore we decide it’s time to put the feedbag on the ponies so we go to Dave’s Bait & Tackle. Gee whiz, I love this place; it is jam packed full of fishing stuff! It’s not all fly-fishing but it doesn’t seem to matter. Dave’s is a quaint little place and somehow seems pure Americana. Bruce tends to the ponies and inside I strike a conversation with two gentlemen and out of the clear Blue they ask how the Trout Bum tourney is going. I have to ask how they knew and they said they had been reading about it. Hats off to the Fly Rod & Reel PR department!
Our original plan is to set up camp first and fish early in the morning. We find out they are releasing water from 4 a.m. until 6 a.m. each day and it is almost six now. We go ahead and set camp up and get that chore done. The call is just too strong for Bruce he wants to fish now. I too want to fly but I also know we are behind on our daily reports and have a ton of pictures to try and upload. There is a balance to this adventure. There is sailing time, laptop time, and fly-fishing. I feel we need to keep our end of the bargain so I decide to stay with the Schooner and do reports and pictures. Bruce goes to fly.
An hour and half later Bruce comes up the hill smiling. Did he have fun? Well, yep. Any fly-fisher that lands forty plus bows is going to have fun. A white micro jig as the offering seemed to be what the bows wanted Bruce reported. Am I somewhat jealous that Bruce got to fly and I didn’t? Well, yes and no. There are not many things in this world I like better than fly-fishing but one of them is seeing or knowing my brothers and sisters of the angle are enjoying their fly-fishing life. It is a good day.
Bruce tells me how two bait fishers tried their best to decide whether they wanted to fight or not. Seems they were crossing each others lines and instead of “Hey man, sorry about that”, it was “Hey man, you want me to wade across and put my boot in your butt?” Of course they were on opposite sides of the river, which always enhances bravado between want-to-be combatants.
I guess that’s why I like fly-fishing. It is the sport of Kings and commoners alike. Over the years I have met thousands of people on the rivers of my life and I can honestly say there has never been one bad encounter. Truly, fly-fishing is the quiet sport. Bruce and I are alike in our nature. Both of us are easy-going and it takes a lot to get us to “clear leather” on someone. About the only time we’ll draw irons is only when kindness fails. However, there is one thing in particular that always gets our attention and that is seeing someone trash the water with a dadgum beer or coke can or other artifact of modern man. That really stinks. There has been many times on my home water Blue River I’ve caught someone throwing a coke can in the water. I’ll take the time to wade out and get the can and look at the culprit and say, “Hey buddy, lets don’t do that”. The response is always the same, which is no response at all. Bruce’s pet peeve is cigarette butts thrown down. Bruce really gets irritated when he sees that.
We get in the bedrolls a little earlier last night, around 10 p.m. Gee whiz, never knew a cot could feel so dog-gone good. We both died immediately and remained in a state of rigor mortis until God decided to clear his voice. Yep, thunder started rolling across the prairie ocean and thunder had a partner in lightning. A prairie storm approaches and again we didn’t put our rain guard on. With great optimism we expect the storm to somehow pass over our little piece of heaven. At 2:15 a.m. it is time to put the rain guard on (in the rain). You would think we would know better wouldn’t you? Put the dang rain guard on when you set up camp…stupid!
It’s now 5:30 a.m. and it’s still raining. I’m in the Schooner typing this report. Bruce is getting some much-needed rest. I’m sure those forty bows wore him out yesterday. Looks like our plans to fly early this morning are going awry. Oh well, just a part of the experience of fly-fishing. One thing in our fly-fishing life we’ll never be able to control is the weather. In man versus nature we might as well give in.
I don’t mind fishing in the rain at all. The wind is my nemesis and it is millpond smooth this morning. Think I might just wake my buddy, my amigo, my friend Bruce and see if he wants to go get wet.
The rain lets up a little and we finally get on the water about 7:30 a.m. There is still a steady drizzle but that doesn’t dampen our spirits.
Bruce likes to use heavy rods like eight and ten weights. I prefer three and five weights but in order to satisfy my buddy, my amigo, my friend Bruce I break out the eight. Although we are searching for trout Bruce is fixated on finding a big ole striper so therefore the heavier rods.
We start out just below the dam casting in a left to right arc but get no action at all. We move downstream and I hook up with a fish. Turns out to be a small striper. Bruce decides to move further downstream but I hold where I am. I get another hook set and this time it’s a sunfish. No trout and no big ole stripers yet. The rain is coming down harder now so I start to slowly move downstream. Ten minutes later the rain subsides some and I start see rises. The sky is dark and overcast and I can’t see any insect activity so I gamble and tie on a size 18 midge. My offering takes one Rainbow. Action slows so I go to a size 18 beadhead Hare’s Ear and start catching trout. I decide to make this a pattern day so I start changing flies often. Flies that produce for me today include the Hare’s Ear size 18 and 14, size 18 Midge, the Inebriated fly I spoke of yesterday, olive Wooly Bugger and black Wooly Buggers. I ashamed to say how many opportunities I missed. The strikes were really subtle today.
I move downstream to find Bruce and he shows me a good size Golden Rainbow he’s been after for a half hour and tells me to try and entice the Goldie. I invest about a half hour also but this big fellow is not going to buy it. We leave him to the water.
Bruce has had good success today using orange micro flies and buggers. Yep, he’s still looking for that big striper and we are going back a-fishing tonight after they are through generating.
We fish until noon and then it’s time to try and find an Internet connection somewhere. It has been a wonderful morning. As we get ready to leave we chat with a family and they recognize us as that “Trout Bum” team. We have a really enjoyable visit with them and talk in length about the trout waters of Arkansas.
We are headed for Sallisaw, Oklahoma right now to see if we can find the public library and Internet.
Bruce passes one of the local drinking establishments and I immediately start salivating like Pavlov’s dog but Bruce isn’t going to stop.
Back at the river we start fishing again. We fish for several hours and Bruce really puts it on me. For the day there are close to forty fish landed and like I said Bruce had a good day. We caught trout, stripers, perch, and a buffalo.
We are going to take the night off from the Dutch but Bruce promises to fix a real treat in apple crisp as soon as we get some butter.
We’ll be back after them tomorrow.
Long live the Lower Illinois and long live our home waters the Blue River.
For the Blue River Bummers
Barry & Bruce
Sail On With The Bummers
Contact the Bummers
