Solo on the Little Red River, AR

From the day Cheryl bought her plane ticket to go to her brother's wedding, I had been looking forward to this weekend.  With Cheryl and the C-ster in Utah I had the weekend free, very free.  Since the C-ster was born I really hadn't gotten out.  I had heard good things about the Little Red River from various people, and I thought that I would give it a shot.

Even though my alarm was set for 4:00am, I was excited and ended up getting out of bed at 3:30.  I pulled out of the local gas station at 4:15 and headed down some new backroads in the dark.  Two hours and forty-five minutes later I turned off the car in the parking lot just above the fish hatchery under Greer's Ferry Dam.  I rigged up and hiked down to the river.  The sun wasn't up yet, and there was no generation, so the river was glass.  I was immediately drawn to the outflow pipes from the hatchery, as that was the only moving water around. 


Sun rise at Greer's Ferry Dam.  My first impression of Fall in the Ozarks: Beautiful!.



Fish were rising sporadically in the glassy water, but more interesting to me, there were fish coming into inches of water along the shoreline.  They looked somewhat like what I imagine tailing bonefish would look like: torpedos moving through the shallow water with occasional noses, fins, and tails above the water.  I started with a nymph, and hooked into a decent rainbow on my fourth cast.  The fight was short-lived, however, as the fish came off.  About an hour and a half later I was getting frustrated.  By this time I had switched to a #20 Parachute Adams.  I was targeting fish I could see in the shallows, which kept me focused, but my lack of success was getting old. 



Finally, I saw a group of 5 rainbows cruising the shallows heading right toward me.  As luck would have it, they stopped in the small current right below me, and turned upstream looking right at me.  With as little movement as possible, I flipped my fly into the head of the tiny riffle, and watched as the largest of the fish turned its head and engulfed my dry!  A fight ensued: a bit better than I was expecting.  It wasn't until I got the fish in the net that I realized how big it was!  It was a beautiful rainbow!  Perfect fins, great colors, and an all around solid fish.  I was stoked. 

I didn't realize how big it was until I got it in my net.  I guessed it was 17-18 inches, but when I got home and measured the mark on my rod, it taped out at roughly 18 1/4"  Beautiful bow!

About five minutes later I was fishing in the same spot and I heard some weird noises behind me.  I looked up and there was a 12" rainbow flipping around in 1/4" of water.  It must have come through the pipe from the hatchery and gotten stuck!  I walked up to the fish and picked it up.  Another fisherman was walking by, and I asked, "Does this one count?"  He laughed and told me that I could count it if I wanted to.  I don't count anyway, but it was funny.



I was mainly here on a reconiscaince mission, so I left and headed to Cow Shoals, which I heard was a great place to fish.  The number of trucks in the parking lot got me excited.  Sure, it meant there were going to be lots of fishermen,  but there should also be some fish, too, right?  Well, I wasn't impressed.  I saw a couple other guys catch some small fish, I had a fish eat my indicator, and I missed a handful of rises, but after about 3 hours all I had to show for my efforts was a fingerling to hand and some frustration from missing my few opportunities.



From there I moved down to the Swinging Bridge / Winkley Shoals area.  Obviously they plant fish here.  There were signs all over the place about not fishing when the stocking truck is present.  If that wasn't enough, the thirty people throwing powerbait along the shores confirmed it!  That is one thing that I've never liked about trout.  I spend most of my life dreaming about them, tying flies, traveling, saving money for equipment, etc. and they eat little balls of green and orange nasty smelling stuff.  Don't they have any self-respect?  I worked downstream and started fishing, but found more of the same.  At least I was seeing fish, and I even moved a few.

Looking at swinging bridge from downstream.  The river is beautiful in this area.  The problem is too many people think so!

Finally I got to a spot that looked good.  There were some large boulders with numerous seams between them.  Trout water - the best I had seen.  The fish proved it.  In the next half hour I had caught over half a dozen stocker-sized rainbows.  It felt good.  Really good.  Finally, I took some pictures and relaxed.  Now I could enjoy myself!



Planter rainbow.  One of the many rainbow that approved of my rainbow sow bug.

The only other excitement from the day came from a rock that I saw in the bottom of one of the runs.  My radar immediately told me, "Big brown", but I fished for the next 15 minutes and it never moved.  It was about the same color as the surrounding rocks, so I figured I was just deceiving myself.  I worked some other runs, caught a few more fish, but came back to it one last time.  On about my third cast, I set the hook, and that big rock rolled right toward me.  Yup, 20+ inch brown.  It turned head first, and I could see his mouth open as he tried to shake the hook.  Luckily for him, he didn't need to worry about it.  Much to my dismay, at the same time he had taken my point fly, a fingerling had taken the dropper, which was tied to the bend of the hook.  Effectively, the stinking fingerling pulled the hook right out of the hawg's mouth!  Oh well.  That is what keeps me hungry for more.



That was pretty much my day.  They had released water from the dam, and I had a long drive home, so I decided to hit the road early.  On my way back up to the car I saw some fish rising in inches of water along the shoreline.  I figured they were all fingerlings, but I tied on that same parachute adams and tried for them anyway.  I'm always up for a challenge.  I had a rise about two feet from shore in about two inches of water and was surprised that when I set the hook it pulled back.  It turned out to be a 10" planter.  Nothing to brag about, but better than a fingerling!

During my three hour drive home I reflected on the day.  The Little Red certainly isn't Utah's Green river, or even my "home" Provo River, but it was fun.  I had a great time, and it was a really good break.  I have plenty to explore here in Memphis!