BUFFALO CITY -- When it's hot enough to fry eggs on the pavement, there's no better place to be in Arkansas than on a cold trout stream.
A pilgrimage of sorts brought me to the White River last week. I was frustrated because the summer seemed to be getting away from me, and I needed inspiration. That started to turn around three weeks ago with an excellent trip to Lake Maumelle with Mark Hedrick and Matt Hedrick of Little Rock. We caught some fish, but more important, I had a wonderful time. We told a lot of jokes, talked a lot of smack and even did an emergency hook removal from Mark's hand. I left the lake that day energized and invigorated.
The heat has pretty much quashed daytime fishing in the state. The Arkansas River is usually excellent this time of year, but high, fast, muddy water has made it virtually unfishable. That leaves small streams and tailwaters, which happen to also be my favorite places to fish.
I arrived at Buffalo City public access on the White River about 90 minutes before sunset on a hot, humid Monday. With my boat still tethered, I backed the trailer into the water and tested the motor. It fired right up, which assured me that I wouldn't have to deal with any unexpected surprises in the morning. We don't like balky motors anytime, but especially not in a swift river.
By the height and speed of the water, there appeared to be eight generators running at Bull Shoals Dam. A thick fog rose from the surface, and with so little daylight remaining, I didn't want to launch the boat.
Instead, I tied on a Long A Bomber stickbait in rainbow trout color and pinched down the barbs. I cast as far into the current as I could and tried a variety of retrieves. I jerked the lure vigorously, which causes it to dart and dive like a small fish in distress. I twitched it lightly, which produces more subtle variations of the same movements. I reeled it back slowly and quickly, and I did mixtures.
I got a couple of hits and deduced that trout responded to the more subtle actions. I also got more strikes close to shore.
I finally got a taker about 15 yards off the submerged part of the boat ramp. It was a very nice, hard-fighting brown trout that measured about 17 inches.
A few casts later drew a much more violent strike. Unlike the first fish, this one didn't give. The lure just stopped, as if lodged on a mushy log. One more jerk ensured a good hookset, and the fight was on.
The fish jumped twice, revealing itself to be a big, big-bellied brown trout. I lightened the drag on my reel, and it squealed as the fish surged and ran.
When it tired, the trout sulked in the current and rested. Against the current it felt like it weighed 20 pounds, and with 8-pound test line I didn't have enough leverage to force the issue. I could only wait until the fish was ready to resume fighting, and so it went for about 15 minutes until I finally maneuvered it close to the bank.
I slipped a rubber-mesh net in the water and gently guided the fish into it. It thrashed one last time and broke my line about a foot above the knot, but the net held it fast.
I never took the fish from the water, and it was surprisingly docile as I measured it and took a few photos. It was 22 inches long, with a dense pattern of small brown spots. Its belly was mauve, and it exhibited a stunning but subtle shade of purple. I've never seen a trout quite like it.
With forceps, I unbuttoned the lure, pulled the fish backward out of the net by the tail and let it go.
Dawn broke warm, still and muggy, but the river had fallen several feet and was prime for fishing. I launched my well-traveled War Eagle and fished the Long A from Buffalo City almost to Buffalo Shoals.
The water was rising by then, and I caught a mess of rainbow trout until about 10 a.m., when moss, didymo and other suspended vegetation made it impossible to fish. I called it quits at about 3 p.m.
I intended to stay another day, but I accomplished everything I wanted in those few hours. I was amped, and the fishing has only gotten better since.
Sports on 07/30/2015