{"id":733,"date":"2006-02-22T20:19:31","date_gmt":"2006-02-22T20:19:31","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.itinerantangler.com\/blog\/podcasts\/2006\/02\/22\/article_siblings_of_the_white\/"},"modified":"2006-02-22T20:19:31","modified_gmt":"2006-02-22T20:19:31","slug":"article_siblings_of_the_white","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.itinerantangler.com\/blog\/podcasts\/2006\/02\/22\/article_siblings_of_the_white\/","title":{"rendered":"Article: Siblings of the White"},"content":{"rendered":"
<\/p>\n
Flowers
\nline Arkansas’ Little Red River’s
banks in spring.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\nSiblings of the White<\/strong><\/big><\/big><\/big>
\nby Zach Matthews
\nFirst Published October
\n20, 2003 | Travel<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThis is not a giveaway article. Quite rightly, many anglers become
\nupset when some
\nonline or published magazine starts selling out the secrets that locals
\nspent years developing and shared with only a few. The streams I am
\nabout to dissect are known, even well known. Many hundreds of anglers
\nfish them each week of the year, with marginal to excellent success.
\nHowever, somehow these streams have managed to be passed over as
\n“last years’ water.” There’s a
\nprevailing myth here that these streams are overfished, that the fish
\nare undersized, and that attempting an outing means wrangling with
\nBubba. This doesn’t have to be true.\n<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

\nLittle Red River<\/strong>
<\/big>
\nRight off the bat, I know you are going to say,
\n“Wait a minute! The Little Red is what he considers
\npassed-over water? Isn’t that where they caught the world
\nrecord brown?!” If you are saying this, let me explain. Yes,
\nit is true that the world record brown trout, a 40 lb., 4 oz. behemoth
\ncaught by the late Howard “Rip” Collins in 1992, came out of the Little
\nRed. The
\nriver enjoyed an instantaneous flash of popularity as anglers pummeled
\nits depths in search of something, anything comparable. The mighty
\nWhite River was for once passed over by the hordes of out of state
\nanglers who paraded their way to the Little Red. Yet slowly, that
\ntorrent diminished to a trickle, and the Little Red went back to what
\nit always was, a trout stream convenient to Little Rock and not much
\nmore. Electroshocking boats still dredge up the silent monsters between
\nthe moss, and occasionally an angler will land a 20 pounder night
\nfishing off a dock, but the media frenzy has died.<\/p>\n

In the fall the Little Red yields up some of its biggest
\nsecrets, but there’s a catch here. In order to fish to some
\nof the true monsters, you are going to have to decide whether, and to
\nwhat extent, you want to interfere with the
\nspawn. No matter your fishing ethic, you must consider that the Little
\nRed is not stocked with brown trout. Every trout in the river was born
\nin the river. Fish the spawn now and you will take home some incredible
\npictures and memories. But you may pay the price down the road. Some
\nanglers argue that the spawn can be fished safely, that the fish are
\nnot really harmed by being dragged off the redd. In the past I refused
\nto accept this. I felt that no one could effectively fish the spawning shoals
\nwithout damaging the fish and their chances of reproduction.
\n Since then, I have revised my views to accept the reality
\nthat spawning fish have been legitimate targets in flyfishing for
\nhundreds of years.  I continue to impose heighted limitations
\non my fishing: I refuse to strip flies through spawning shoals; I avoid
\ntargeting fish obviously on the redd; and I conscientiously avoid
\nfoulhooking.  My decision to fish the spawn wasn’t an easy one
\nto make, but in the end I weighed the evidence and decided I was being
\na bit too prim.  Most importantly, I realized that, given game
\nbiologists’ current recommendations that some of the smaller brown
\ntrout be removed from the Little Red River, whatever impact anglers have on the
\nspawn is not significant enough to really damage the recruitment
\ncounts.  I keep an eagle eye on those numbers and I am ready
\nto hang up my rod once more if I see a real detriment to the fish; for
\nthe time being I am comfortable with limited spawn fishing.  <\/p>\n

Enough about that. This is not an article about the spawn
\nfishing debate. Plenty of the horde in lawnchairs that line the river
\neach November can tell you all about the majority view in the state,
\nand they would no doubt laugh themselves silly at our flyfishing
\nquibbles about hurting fish. The problem with the Little Red is not
\ncatching big fish during the spawn; it is finding them the rest of the
\nyear. The majority of the rest of the year fishermen are content to
\ntake eleven inch rainbows thirty yards from their stocking point.
\nThey complain that they journeyed fourteen hours to catch something
\nspecial, only to find the same trout they could buy at Kroger back home.<\/p>\n

Many anglers, particularly out of staters, but some locals too, never
\nleave the known locations. On the Little Red, the most popular
\ndestinations are JFK Park, Winkley Shoal, and Cow Shoals. Cow Shoals is
\nwhere the browns spawn and is famous for that. Winkley and the Park are
\nsimply easy to access.<\/p>\n

<\/a><\/p>\n
The author’s personal map of the Little Red,
annotated with shoals. (Click to enlarge.)<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\nThese locations get pounded. The average fish there in the bulk of the
\nyear is eleven inches long, the stocking size. If fooling trout that
\nhave been in the river thirty six hours is your thing, check these
\nshoals out.
\nYou will miss out on the translucence of a natural born brown and the
\nfight of a feral rainbow, but you’ll catch fish. Keep working
\nthe same pod and you can rack up dozens and dozens of the same trout.
\nImpress your friends and scare your enemies. <\/p>\n

If you are interested in
\nthe wilder side of the apparently tame Red, read on. There are other
\nshoals on the river too — shoals not accessible by paved roads and
\npublic access points. For some, to legally reach them you will need a
\nboat. Others are only as far away as water conditions and your
\nendurance allow. Fortunately boat shuttles are cheap at any of the
\ntrout docks in the area. Abe’s Lobo Landing rents jonboats
\nfor $50 a day, which will hold three anglers, or they will shuttle you
\nanywhere in range for $10.<\/p>\n

If you don’t want to settle for supermarket fish, you have
\nother options. Worthwhile experiences will take a little more effort,
\nbut then worthwhile things usually do. You can start by exploring the
\nlower river. Lobo Access, Mossy Shoal, Dripping Springs Shoal near
\nPangburn, and Pangburn Bridge Shoal are all elegant, frequently empty
\nplaces to ply the water. Or, try the lower reaches of the known areas.
\nIf you fancy a hike and a wade, try walking all the way out the back
\ndoor of Winkley Shoal; there are islands and eddies there where
\nmonsters lurk.
\nFly selection on the Little Red is fairly simple. The standard of
\nchoice is the Little Red Sowbug, one of the simplest of all flies. Drop
\na sowbug or a humpback scud beneath an indicator and search the pools,
\nruns, and riffles of the lower river. You might be surprised at what
\nyou find. If you go the boat route, rig deep and fish slow, and watch
\nyour indicator like a hawk. Eight feet down is a long way to pull
\nslack, and your yarn may only twitch.<\/p>\n

When the day ends, don’t pack it in. Stay on until 9 or 10
\no’clock. If nothing else the ominous weight of the river at
\nnight by yourself is worth the experience. You are much smaller than
\nyou think. Trout leap clear at night for bugs so small you
\ncouldn’t spot them with the light on. The sound of their
\nbodies hitting the water like lead footballs, over and over and over,
\nwill drive you into a frenzy that makes your worst case of buck fever
\nfeel like<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

you drank one too many espressos at Starbucks on a Tuesday
\nmorning. Do be careful, however, and always check generation tables
\nbefore heading out. I like to stick to the lower river at night because
\nthen I know what water’s coming and when. Mind the docks as
\nwell, I have been threatened with bodily harm just for being near one
\nat night. Some of the locals are a mite jumpy.<\/p>\n

Crisp mornings in the fall are wonderful times to fish away from the
\nspawning shoals. These hotspots act like magnets, drawing the flotsam
\nof the rest of the river and leaving the watery lanes open and
\nunobstructed. I have been face to face with deer flushed from the
\nforest, their brick dust fur blending into the autumn backdrop. A
\ndeer’s hooves on the slippery rocks of a dry shoal in the fog
\nis something to hear. Herons will eye you like sedate
\nhousecats, and occasionally you may spot an eagle or a
\nhorned owl. The Little Red is worth far more than its trophy potential.
\nThe first time you hold a Little Red brown in your hands, you will know
\nwhat trout are meant to look like. A natural brown bleeds color like a
\nVan Gogh beside the harsh, Wal-Mart-ish light dulling the scales of a
\nhatchery rainbow. Six inches or thirty, trout fishing is rarely better.<\/p>\n

Beaver Tailwater<\/strong>
\n<\/big><\/p>\n

“Now,” you are saying, “he’s
\nmoving on to Beaver!?” That’s right, Beaver
\nTailwater, the red-headed stepchild of the White River system. In 1990,
\nBeaver Lake saw one of its worst floods ever, with all the overflow
\ngates open for days on end. The river bottom ecosystem was scoured away
\nlike sandpaper on a fine work of art. All that remained was rock and
\nstripers. <\/p>\n

Beaver now sports scars from its wounds. But Beaver has fought back.
\nThanks in large part to the work and dedication of the Trout Unlimited
\nchapters of North Arkansas, the river is fishable again. The
\nriverbank was largely destroyed, so the Corps of Engineers and TU
\nreplaced it with iron-and-wood bandages eight feet high, walls which
\nhold
\nback the water and protect the canyon’s flanks. The bottom
\nwas ripped clean down to the bare limestone, but gravel and moss pods
\nhave reemerged.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n
Canada Geese
\nand Great Blue Herons are a common sight
on all Arkansas tailwaters.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

Plans are on hold for a
\nfish hatchery beneath Beaver Dam, and the effluent from that hatchery
\ncould do much to aid the future development of this small stretch of
\ntrout water. Triage is complete and the river is going to make it, but
\nit may be a long time to a complete recovery.<\/p>\n

That does not mean, however, that Beaver isn’t worth a visit.
\nWhen you go to a place like this, you have to keep in mind why you
\nstarted flyfishing in the first place. Beaver Tailwater yields up maybe
\none eight pound trout a year, usually to a local. The average size of
\nthe fish is small, and holdovers are few and far between. Nonetheless
\nthere is magic here. <\/p>\n

Crane Roost Bluff is an eyrie for a wide variety
\nof birds, from scissortailed swallows to Great Blue Herons, which live
\nhere in abundance. Two great horned owls have recently made it their
\nhome, and they will watch you from the branches of the sycamores
\ntowering high over the clifftop. This stretch of river is your best
\nchance for seeing the national bird while fishing, and in the fall,
\nsquadrons of geese dive bomb so low you have to avoid hitting them in
\nyour backcast. (A hat is definitely recommended when fishing during the
\nmigration.) Fields of wildflowers melt into the river opposite the
\nbluff, and aside from the occasional canoe hatch, the catch-and-release
\narea is all yours for the taking any day except Saturday. <\/p>\n

Local favorite
\npatterns on Beaver Tailwater include a vast array of tiny midges, a
\nsprinkling of sowbugs and other crustaceans, and the ubiquitous Y2K
\nbug, a Frankenstein creation blended from beadhead nymphs and egg
\npatterns that resembles a Harlem Globetrotters basketball in yellow and
\norange. This is the only serious candidate fly in recent years for
\nbanning from the water. It is so effective that some anglers,
\nincluding
\nmyself, have given up using it. Midge fishing in winter is excellent,
\nthough tricky, as at low water Beaver has effectively no flow.<\/p>\n

This is a river that is worth the trip for more than the fishing. It is
\nbeginner water, a place where the trout are easy to spot and easy to
\nfool, and it deserves its place as the minor league ballpark of the
\nWhite River association. Nonetheless it is beautiful, and in the
\nevenings elegant, with the light bouncing off the canyon walls as your
\nline slowly unrolls across mirror-smooth water.  Whether you
\nchoose the Little Red or Beaver tailwaters, don’t limit yourself to the
\nArkansas streams you see in the magazines.  Next time you make
\nthe trip, branch out — there’s far more to this state than meets the
\neye.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

<\/p>\n
The author’s wedding party crosses Beaver Tailwater on the morning of
\nhis wedding\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n

For more information on Arkansas flyfishing or any of the topics you’ve encountered in this article, visit The Itinerant Angler Bulletin Board<\/a>.<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Flowers line Arkansas’ Little Red River’s banks in spring. Siblings of the White by Zach Matthews First Published October 20, 2003 | Travel This is not a giveaway article. Quite rightly, many anglers become upset when some online or published magazine starts selling out the secrets that locals spent years …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1287,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-733","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-articles","column","onecol","has-thumbnail"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/www.itinerantangler.com\/blog\/podcasts\/files\/2013\/01\/flowers1.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.itinerantangler.com\/blog\/podcasts\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/733","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.itinerantangler.com\/blog\/podcasts\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.itinerantangler.com\/blog\/podcasts\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.itinerantangler.com\/blog\/podcasts\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.itinerantangler.com\/blog\/podcasts\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=733"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.itinerantangler.com\/blog\/podcasts\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/733\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.itinerantangler.com\/blog\/podcasts\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1287"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.itinerantangler.com\/blog\/podcasts\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=733"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.itinerantangler.com\/blog\/podcasts\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=733"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.itinerantangler.com\/blog\/podcasts\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=733"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}