ozark trout fisher

It's always good to hear news like this...If only because it's so rare. Thanks for posting.

It's supposed to rain pretty hard down there over the next couple of days...Should put a stop to this with any luck, as well as adding much needed water to the rivers.

If my not going to get my fly gear at an actual fly shop, then there's no way that I'm going to get it at Bass Pro, and pay twice as much as I would on Fly Shack. Personally if there was a fly shop anywhere near where I live that's where I'd go, period, even if it cost a little more. Nothing quite like advice and attention you get at the real thing, and I patronize them any time I have a chance. But there isn't one anywhere around here, or around most of the places I like to fish, so as of now I buy most all of my flies, tying materials, indicators, lead, and other such things online. Leaders and tippet I usually just pick up at Walmart on the way to the stream. No need to spend more than a couple bucks on such things. For conventional tackle though, Bass Pro has a pretty good selection. But I'm not too enamored of their fly shop. For goodness sake they at least need to start carrying beadhead egg patterns! As a point of reference, a visit to the Walmart in Glenwood Springs, Colorado this summer proved that it has a much better fly selection than the Bass Pro Shops in Missouri do, although that may be for largely understandable reasons:)

Thanks for posting. I must say I'm very happy with this decision. Who are we to say that any species is of no value? How presumptuous is it to assume that we fully understand the implications of any species going extinct? Of course we don't. In the end we only have a very limited knowledge. Anyone who says that a species is of no value because it is not commercially useful does not even have the most basic understanding of ecology. If one "useless" species is lost, besides the inherent loss in diversity, who's to say that couldn't adversely affect another species that is commercially useful? Not that this is my concern but if money is all that counts, then it's something to consider. As I said before, we don't have anything approaching a full knowledge of how one species relates to another, and until we do it seems that we cannot drive even the most obscure species extinct without fear of unexpected consequences.

But who's to say that's a bad thing? Drum fight a heck of a lot harder than trout, though I can't say they're quite as pretty.

Sounds like I should never be on the shocking boat with the MDC. That would ruin all of my excuses!

Good work! You may take some criticism for that...But not from me, that's for sure. The way I see it, it makes room for 15 more smallies!

Beautiful fish! It's been a long time since I've seen a fish like that from LP.

Yeah, ditto to what Mic said. The little wild trout creeks are best left alone during July and August. With the low, warm water it's really an uphill battle. A shallow little creek like Blue Spring warms up very quickly. In mid-summer you'd really have to be fishing in the private water way up by the spring to have the kind of water temperatures you need. I'm guessing that's where a lot of the fish migrate to during the hottest part of the year. That is unless maybe next summer we actually have some fairly moderate temperatures.

I always camp and fish at either Park Hollow or Cedar Grove now, down toward the lower end of the Blue Ribbon stretch. Once I started fishing there, I don't have much interest anymore in the Orvis parade further upstream... Although it's only fair to point out that it isn't crowded for a reason, the trout density is a lot lower than in the Baptist Camp/Tan Vat areas, and the habitat isn't as good. That stretch of river would be good for night fishing though, with pretty easy wading and a considerable majority of the trout population being browns. Although your plan to camp and fish down below Baptist is a good one too. I never have understood why they don't let you camp at the access.

What is it about Huzzah Creek and naked people? When I was over there a couple weekends ago, there was a canoe with two people. They said hello as they went by and I looked up, and I looked up and saw the fellow in the front of the canoe didn't have on a stitch of clothing. Unfortunately, unlike in your situation, it was an extremely overweight man, so it was rather a traumatizing experience. I wish I hadn't looked up! And a little odd, even more so than usual considering they were within about 200 yards of an access where there were quite a few people. It never ceases to amaze me, some of the folks I encounter on our Ozark streams. Anywhere else half of the people that float our rivers would be arrested for indecent exposure.

Well, I can't say I've been at it even a significant fraction of 75 years, but I have had a fishing pole in my hand more or less constantly since I was three years old. I'm told my first fish was a small rainbow from a little pond in Craig Colorado,though I can't say I actually remember that. For me fishing, specifically trout fishing, has just always been the most natural thing in the world. I can't remember a time ever in my life when it was anything less than my passion.

Sounds like a good trip. The Big Piney can be a little tough for anyone this late on in the fall, so it sounds like you did pretty well.

Chubs have to be the most underrated Ozark fish, those and drum. They fight! I've been known to forget that I'm supposed to be looking for trout for 15 minutes or so when I get into a whole bunch of 8 inch chubs on the upper Current...

I've used them as small as #16, mostly for bluegill though. They have worked very well for that.

I think nymphing tactics completely depend on the sort of stream your fishing, the water type, etc. I do most of my trout fishing on small streams, creeks really, like the upper Current and the little wild trout creeks in the G'nade and Meramec basin. And I mostly concentrate on the riffles, not the really deep holes. This allows me to use relatively delicate nymphing techniques, as opposed to the chuck 'n duck methods you need somewhere like the NFoW or the Eleven Point. Neither method is superior overall, it just all depends on where you're fishing. On medium sized streams like the upper Current, my preferred method is to use a fairly large, weighted nymph, sometimes with a smaller dropper with no split shot or other added weight. For an indicator, I use stick-on palsas. In my opinion, any nymph rig that allows you to use a stick-on indicator is ideal, because they will improve your strike detection incredibly over what you get using the big cork bobbers. And they won't work if you've got lead on your leader. One of my favorite Current River rigs is a beadhead egg pattern (or a big stonefly nymph, depending on the season) with a #16 Hare's Ear or Pheasant Tail as a dropper. On the small wild trout streams, I'll use the same method, except the two fly rig is unnecessary, and one small beadhead, like a #16 Hare's Ear, is plenty to get down where it needs to be. I really focus on getting good, long drifts, because it is absolutely critical for this method of nymphing. Instead of forcing the fly down by using a whole bunch of weight and ruining the casting motion, I just give the rig plenty of time to get down to where it needs to be. Most of the strikes come late in the drift, often as it swings directly downstream of me. Set up any time the indicator pauses, or goes under, or does anything funny. At first you'll set the hook on the bottom some, and you'll keep doing that occasionally, but you'll pretty quickly learn what is a strike and what isn't. Until then, my advice is to strike at anything and everything!

Mark Twain National Forest is a patchwork of public land and private easements. That tract down there around Little Piney has a lot more land in private hands than public. Basically on Little Piney you've got the National Forest land at Lane Spring and some MDC land down around Milldam Hollow. Other than that it's mostly all private land along the stream, although there are several public easements around the bridges, the Vida Slab low-water being one of them. Of course some of these public bridge easements have purple paint.

Sounds like a pretty good trip. There a lot of things worse than catching a bunch of 8 inch smallies in a place like that.

Sorry it didn't go too well. Maramec can definitely be a frustrating place to fly fish . Maybe next time you might try the river below the spring branch. There is pretty good wading in spots and the crowds are not nearly as bad. The trout naturally aren't quite as numerous as in the park but there are still plenty to go around.

Beautiful fish, caught on a dry too. Very nice.

Looks like a beautiful area, and if I might say not exactly what most people have in mind when they think of Alabama. I do see the similarity to the Ozarks. That picture actually reminds me a lot of Rocky Creek and other little streams like that down near the Ozark National Scenic Riverways.

10,000 per mile is exceptional...Wow. The only other stream I've heard of with a fish count anywhere near that high is the Green in Utah. I'll have to fish there sometime. As a point of reference, depending on the year the Blue Ribbon stretch of the Current usually is estimated by the MDC to have somewhere between 300 and 500 trout per mile. The Eleven Point usually has 800-1200, which is comparable to some of the famous streams out west. The Eleven Point is a big river though, at least compared to other Missouri trout streams. The Meramec is a little lower than either one, I think the last count turned up something like 290 per mile, although it has been as high as 700 per mile in the past. I don't know too much about the Niangua but based on what I hear, I'd guess that the average fish count would probably be similar to the Meramec, maybe around 300 per mile or somewhat less. I would also guess that since the Niangua is White Ribbon, the fish count would vary wildly based on when the last stocking was, and how close to a stocking point you are. But numbers, as important as they seem, don't matter as much as it's possible to expect. They say that just about all of the wild trout streams I fish have less than 100 trout per mile, but still if you know where to look you'd never think that there was any shortage of fish. 1000 per mile can be very little on a big river like the Clark Fork in Montana, where there is a whole lot of good habitat for the fish to spread out in. But in a stream where the fish are concentrated into a small number of good lies, as few as 70 or 100 fish per mile can be plenty.

Every year it's the same, and I'm unspeakably happy to be here again, heading down Highway 19 between Salem and Eminence. We've just crossed the Current River, running deep, green, and strong. There will still be nearly another hour until we turn off on the little gravel road, and into the mountainous tract of mixed pine and oak forests where we hunt each year. I've been hunting with my father since I was very young, about ten years old, and it has always been here, in this Conservation Area. My memories of that first hunt have faded; it was so many years ago, nearly a decade now. But I do remember the pure excitement of the hunt, getting up at 4 AM, hiking out to the food plot where the stand was set up. And I remember how that excitement was amplified to such a great extent, when that afternoon I took my first deer, a small doe that weighed less than 50 pounds field dressed. My excitement level has faded considerably since then, in regards to the hunt itself. These days, I really could not care less whether I get a deer, whether I even see one. I am out there to absorb the stillness of the remote Ozark woods, the cold air of the morning and the warmth of the afternoon, to watch the sun rise and the sun set in an incredible beautiful place. Our deer camp have always been a rather simple, and blessedly uncomfortable affair. The next morning, We slide out of tents, heat up some oatmeal, and head out into the dark. Lately we haven't been hunting out of stands, but still hunting, so we'll hike into the little creek drainage that we like to frequent, find two good trees to set up under, and wait for the sun to show itself the east. Usually I will show myself not to be a true hunter at this point. While I should be sitting alertly, listening for movement, my head tends to go down, lever action across my knees. The only thing I am watching is the back of my eye lids. I'll wake up at the first gray light, about when legal shooting hours began. It's cold right now, about freezing. But I know that it will get warmer throughout the day, quite possibly into the 70s by mid-afternoon. It's like mountain whether, with the freezing cold nights and the pleasantly warm days. It is prime time right now, and if I see a deer today it's likely to be within the next couple of hours. So I do manage to stay alert, for a little while. But nothing moves, except the myriad squirrels that frequent this oak forest. So I pass the time watching them, their frantic, jerky movements, two large gray squirrels chasing each other up a tree. Then I find myself watching the little spring-fed creek at the bottom of the hollow, watching for movement in it, thinking to myself that I might have to try fishing it some time. I can't focus on listening hard, paying close attention so I'll be ready if a deer comes. I never could. I accepted pretty early on that isn't why I'm out here, not even the tenth part of it. Lately I've begun to seriously consider the possibility of not even bringing my rifle at all, but for some undefinable reason that wouldn't seem quite right. By now the sun is high, and the air is warming rapidly. I think of taking off my Carhartt coat, but not yet. It's still pretty cold. By now I've almost completely forgotten why I'm out here. I'm just spending a relaxing day sitting under a tall, stately oak tree, watching a little stream flow by. Life couldn't be better. There is something about hunting, about the absolute quiet and stillness of it that keeps me coming back. There is nothing quite so relaxing as a day spent hunting out in these woods; even fly fishing doesn't come close. About noon, we decide to head back to the trunk, to eat some jerky and trail mix and ponder where we might want to hunt in the afternoon. Taking a quick break from the hunt, we hike out to the top of one tall ridge where there is an amazing view of the highest mountain in this part of the Ozarks. The mountainside is dominated by pine forest, with a few oak trees still carrying their brown leaves. There's a small rocky bald near the top, shimmering in the bright sun. I camped a the summit of this mountain the summer before, and I remember that night there was a meteor shower, falling stars all across the sky. Maybe the reason why I love this place so much now is in fact because of these memories. This place was where where I first experienced the Ozarks, first saw the tall pines, the little spring-fed creeks, heard the coyotes howling at night. It was where I learned exactly how bright the stars shine when you are far away from even the smallest town, with no light pollution. It was this place that introduced me to the region of broken hills and forest that would become the place I turn to, whenever I need to be somewhere that is relatively unspoiled, still touched with wildness. I'm sitting under a tree again, this time on the edge of a field, deep in a valley. I can see the hills rising up on all sides of me. The temperature has dropped again, and I've put the Carhartt back on. The light is fading now, the day is almost over. Within the hour we'll be back to camp, talking about how happy we are to be here, heating up the cans of chili. But for now, I get to watch the sun set, another beautiful and perfect day coming to a close in this place. I'm not much of a hunter, and I probably never will be, but still I understand that I wouldn't trade this for anything.

Here are the pictures. I apologize for being a couple days later on this than I said. Hope you enjoy them.

Here are some pictures from last weekend's outing on Huzzah Creek. Hope ya'll like them.