SILVER HILL -- One fish coughed up one clue that turned a bummer of a bass fishing trip into a stellar slugfest.
It happened Aug. 16 when Ray Tucker and I fished the Buffalo River. It was a splendid day that felt more like early October than mid-August. Despite a clear, sunny sky, the temperature was cool and breezy, a stark contrast to the oven that baked central Arkansas.
We wanted a low-hassle, economical trip, so we opted to wade-fish from Tyler Bend Recreation Area to Baker Ford. We took one canoe to hold our tackle, drinks and lunch. I tied it to my belt loop, and we waded upstream.
That is my favorite way to fish. I meander slowly, casting to every piece of cover and structure in reach. I don't miss anything.
Floating downstream is comparably inefficient because I cast to targets before I pass them unless I beach the boat and fish riffles. When I encounter deep water, I get in the boat and paddle up to the next available shallow water.
One of my best trips occurred just this way in this very spot in the summer of 2006 while fishing with Jeff Bone, an accomplished smallmouth fisherman who was hard to impress. It was our first trip together, and he regaled me with stories of catching monster smallmouths at Crooked Creek. The bar was very high, but we cleared it easily. We caught big fish from the start, and it got better and better as the day progressed.
At the end, Bone got very quiet and pensive. I wondered whether I had said or done something to offend him. Finally, he turned and said, "Don't take this the wrong way. This has been a great trip and I have had a great time, but I have had enough."
I told Tucker about it, but our trip didn't start out so well. For Bone and me, the Buffalo was dead low, with hardly any current. We had to pull the boat over riffles, and the current was so mild that we had no problem holding the boat stationary to fish the deep pools.
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For the latest trip, the river was unusually high and swift for August. It was also unusually murky.
One thing I do differently now is credited to Shane Goodner of Hot Springs, owner of Catch 'Em All Guide Service. In 2017, Tucker and I wade-fished a long stretch of the South Fork of the Ouachita River with Goodner. He wore knee-high Rocky hunting boots with thick socks to protect his feet. Tucker and I wore calf-high, neoprene flats wading boots with thin soles. Our feet were battered from a mass of stone bruises at the end of that trip. Mine didn't recover for more than a year.
Now I also wear knee-high hunting boots. They weigh a ton wet, but they preserve my feet. Wading was difficult, however, because of the slick rocks that are even more slippery when you tow a canoe. I estimate having taken 3-5 steps for every step of actual progress. I also brought only one paddle, so I did all the paddling in deep water. By the end of the day, I was, as we say in these parts, plum wore out.
To complicate matters, the fish didn't bite. I started out with a purple, HD Tackle Helgrammite on a 1/8-ounce HD Tackle standup jighead. Tucker used a Texas-rigged Zoom Baby Brush Hog. We didn't get a sniff in the first few pools, and we became increasingly discontent.
Our luck started to turn about 1 p.m. when I hooked a big smallmouth bass that broke off my leader. I got a good look at it before its escape, and it was a very nice fish. Losing it and losing that expensive jighead deepened my discontent.
Tucker, meanwhile, seemed to merely be going through the motions. He fished without focus or conviction.
Shortly after, I caught a fish on a Zoom Mini Lizard. While I worked to free the hook, the bass regurgitated the remains of a slender fish that was about 41/2 inches long.
"I've got something that looks like that," Tucker said. He rummaged around in his tacklebox and extracted a silver Luck-E-Strike stickbait that was almost exactly the same size.
"I've never done well with stickbaits here, but it sure can't be any worse than what we're doing," I said.
I continued with the lizard, while Tucker fished ahead of me.
Soon Tucker whooped. I looked in time to see a big bass leap. Slipping and sliding on the rocks, I struggled upstream to take photos. The fish was about 18 inches long.
"The next hole is my favorite on this part of the river," I said. "I always catch fish there."
Tucker was in the rocky run leading to the hole when he caught another bass that was almost identical to the first.
"You got another one of those stickbaits?" I asked.
Fortunately, Tucker had one more. I tied it on and immediately began catching fish, including one that was nearly identical to the pair Tucker caught.
The dependable hole was at its best. Tucker caught another 17- to 18-inch fish at the tail of the hole and a fourth at the head. He also caught half a dozen that were 14-16 inches, and a few little ones.
Tucker used a very limber, light-action rod that virtually had no backbone. In fact, it's labeled as crappie rod, but it worked phenomenally. When a fish hit the stickbait, Tucker loaded up the rod, and the fish mostly hooked themselves against the tension.
In addition to my one big fish, I caught four that were 14-15 inches, and a few dinks.
"This is like a fall or winter bite," I said. "I've never seen anything like this in the summertime!"
With the sun sinking low, it was time to turn around and go back to Tyler Bend. We floated the entire way. I paddled while Tucker fished with his beloved Whopper Plopper, a topwater lure. With the sun off the water, bass hit on top, and Tucker caught eight more small ones.
Occasionally I threw an Excalibur Zell Pop, my favorite topwater lure until I discovered the Whopper Plopper. Fish wouldn't bite it.
It was dark when we loaded the boat. We were exhausted, but we were completely content.
Sports on 08/25/2019