Road Trip

[Al Agnew]

Sometimes things just work out right. Mary left for Louisiana with friends on Wednesday. I finished a painting and a BPS cover design the same day. So I had the rest of the week free, and the weather forecast, for once, looked perfect. Three beautiful days--time for a road trip.

I called Brian Sloss Wednesday evening. His new cottages sounded interesting, and it had been a long time since I'd floated the Eleven Point. So I made arrangements with him for a shuttle from Greer to Turner's Mill on Thursday, and a stay Thursday night at one of his cottages. But other than that, it was going to be a free-form trip, going wherever I felt like. There are always choices down in that area. Mary had taken the Highlander, leaving me with the Prius; not exactly my choice of a river roaming vehicle, but I had canoe racks for it. In order to be ready for whatever fishing I wanted to do, I packed my winter smallmouth lures, a spinning rod, a casting rod, two fly rods and my fly fishing pack, waders, and canoe.

Leaving the house early Thursday morning, I was putting in at Greer Crossing on the Eleven Point at 11 AM after Brenda took time to show me the cottage I'd be using that night. Brian had told me he had a guide trip that morning, and he was going to put in at Greer and fish up to the spring. Sure enough, when I crossed the bridge and looked upstream I saw his boat, and his was the only vehicle in the parking lot.

My plan for the Eleven Point was to alternate fishing for smallies and fishing for trout. The influence of Greer Spring should make the water warm enough that any smallmouth would be active enough to take a jerkbait, and I always find it inconvenient to use a fly rod while in the canoe, so I was going to fish the jerkbait on my light casting rod while paddling through the pools, and stop at every good looking riffle and fish the fly rod. If I saw rising fish I'd put down the jerkbait rod in all but the biggest, deepest pools.

The pool right at the put-in is pretty nice, and I thought there may be some smallies that had moved into it for the winter, as close as it was to the spring. I started fishing the jerkbait in the slough where the ramp is, and had a couple of trout follow it in that dead water. And when I got into the pool itself, my second cast resulted in a hard strike. A chain pickerel, and a big, fat one. A few casts later I had another strike. This one was a rainbow, about 15 inches, long and lean. Interesting.

I stopped at the first riffle, where the river splits, and caught a trout there on a nymph. Caught another one at the next riffle. Picked up the jerkbait rod and caught a third one before I got to where the channels came back together.

And so the fishing went. Never found any spot where I could catch a bunch of fish, but every nice riffle I stopped at produced one or two, and there was the occasional trout that would take the jerkbait as I paddled.

I caught a 10 inch smallmouth, finally, on the jerkbait in a deep pool. And on the next cast with the jerkbait, I got a solid strike. I set the hook and the fish immediately lunged into a hard run that was stripping drag. Didn't feel like a smallie. And then I saw its side flash in the clear water. Trout, and a good one. It was a hot fish, making several sizzling runs that made me glad I had the drag set properly. A 20 inch rainbow with all its fins was definitely worth a photo!

Eagles were everywhere. Adults, young of all plumages, sitting in trees over the river, soaring over the bluffs. And there were three swans that I continually followed down the river, even though the first time I saw them they rose off the water and flew upstream right over my head. I thought I'd seen the last of them, but a half mile downstream, there they were again. I paddled beneath one adult eagle that sat on his limb and watched me, turning himself around as I passed 20 feet beneath him so that he could keep watching without turning his head.

In a short pool below a rocky riffle there was a quiet backwater that looked fairly deep. It wasn't a classic winter smallmouth spot, certainly not as good as some of the pools I'd already fished, but I had a feeling about it. Sure enough, a cast with the jerkbait resulted in a pretty 16 inch smallmouth. I paddled into the lower end of the slack water so that I could control the canoe while fishing back upstream. A few casts and I caught the twin of the first fish. Had one more strike, and then at the top of the slow current I caught a trout.

Brian had told me that the area right above Mary Decker had a lot of little wild trout, and he was right. In a couple of riffles I caught several little 8 inch rainbows on nymphs.

The sun was dropping below the hills and bluffs as I approached Turner's. There was one more riffle that looked really pretty, and so I stopped to nymph it. I immediately caught a 10 inch wild fish, and then the wildest fish of the day, a 17 inch rainbow that leaped three feet out of the water three times, and made several hard runs. It was a fine fish on which to end a near perfect day. Beautiful water, wild country, gorgeous bluffs, sycamores shining in the sun, and perfect solitude. Three smallmouth, two of them nice ones. Two pickerel, both pretty fish. And around 25 trout.

Back in Alton, I stopped off at the cottage, changed clothes, and checked out my eating choices. There was a menu for a place with a woman's name that sounded Mexican, but I can't remember what it was. Anyway, it sounded good, especially the Mexican pizza on the menu. So I grabbed the book I'd brought along and went to the courthouse square and found the restaurant. The Mexican pizza was HUGE, and cheap, and excellent, and the restaurant was moderately busy but uncrowded and quiet. Back at the very comfortable and clean cottage, I read and watched TV until my eyelids started drooping, and slept well.

Friday morning, I awoke at dawn. I'd brought some cookies along and ate them with green tea for breakfast while perusing my De Lorme Atlas and deciding what stream to fish. At first I considered driving on west to the North Fork, but my other choices were to float a different stretch of the Eleven Point...or to go strictly for smallmouth and float the Jacks Fork. I was beginning to have an idea. The Eleven Point yesterday was as I expected, a mixed bag of trout and bass. Why not float the Jacks Fork purely for smallies, and then the next day drive up to Tan Vat on the Current and fish purely for trout?

It was an easy drive up Hwy. 19 to Eminence, but I had a little wanderlust, so I decided to drive a piece of highway I'd never driven before. I drove west on 160 until I reached Hwy. 17, which heads north, crossing the Eleven Point well upstream of the highest floatable stretch before reaching Hwy. 60.

I wanted to see the Eleven Point there, but I expected it to be nearly dry. Above Thomasville where the highest put-in on the Eleven Point is, there is a long reach of the river running through wild, rugged country, but alas, it is a losing reach up there. Water that should be flowing through the deep, narrow, tortuously winding valley instead sinks underground, probably emerging at the cluster of springs around Thomasville that combine to make the river marginally floatable.

Sure enough, the river at Hwy. 17 wasn't flowing much water, but there were a couple of nice pools around the bridge, as well as a pull-off that looked well used. Perhaps the river in that little area has enough flow to at least furnish some fishing. An exploration for another day, perhaps.

When I reached Eminence, as expected all the canoe rental places were closed. So I went to the Riverside Motel, a place where I've stayed several times in the past. I told the guy I wanted to float the Jacks Fork from Alley Spring down to Eminence, and then spend the night at his place, so did he know anybody who could drive up to Alley with me and bring my car back. He did. So about 10:30 AM I put in at Alley.

The huge access there at Alley Spring gives you two choices. Either put in on a big gravel bar, which would entail carrying the canoe and gear a hundred feet or so since I didn't trust driving the Prius out onto the gravel, or using the concrete ramp that was on the edge of a backwater that led to the river beneath the bridge. Sometimes the outlet to the backwater was blocked or nearly so by gravel, but it looked open from the ramp, so I put in there. The backwater is deep and weedy, and really looks like it could be springfed, though there is no obvious spring visible. Hmm, I thought, there could be fish right here.

First cast with the jerkbait resulted in a 12 inch smallmouth.

Now I'm not superstitious, but I thought that was either a real good sign or a bad one.

About that time a park ranger drove up to the ramp. I was only 20 feet off the ramp, and I figured he'd call me back to check my license and gear. But instead we exchanged pleasantries, and he said he wasn't going to check me, he just wanted to tell me he was extremely jealous that he was stuck working while I was going floating on such a gorgeous day. I told him I didn't blame him, especially since I'd already caught a fish.

Before I got out of that backwater I'd added a largemouth and three chain pickerel to my score.

I really kind of thought that I'd find some concentrations of smallies right below the mouth of Alley Spring branch, but the pool there just wasn't quite deep enough. The Eleven Point yesterday had been amazingly clear, but the Jacks Fork was even clearer. And on these rather small, air clear streams, it sometimes seems as if there are simply no fish. You think you can see everything on the bottom everywhere, and you just don't see fish. I saw one little smallie right below the spring, and a few suckers in the next couple of deeper pools, but the river looked almost barren.

I'd gone more than a mile before I finally caught a smallmouth, a 16 incher that materialized out of nowhere to take the jerkbait. I had decided that the jerkbait was still my best choice unless I could somehow find a concentration of fish, because it's a good winter search bait. I'd taken the water temperature above the spring--42 degrees, a little too cool for good jerkbaiting. But a half mile below the spring the temp was 50 degrees, perfect.

But I never found the concentration of fish. In fact, I didn't find many fish at all. I caught the occasional smallmouth, often in odd spots where I wouldn't have expected them to be this time of year. The deep, rocky pools seldom produced anything, but brushy runs with a log or two, if slow enough and more than three feet deep, had a fish here and there. None of them were over 16 inches.

Other than the few smallies, I snagged a redhorse, and caught a Boone and Crocket striped shiner on the jerkbait. The thing was so big it shouldn't be called a minnow.

Only one eagle, but it was a day for hawks, including a red-shouldered hawk that soared right over my head and gradually circled gaining height while I watched. I saw mink and squirrels and ducks. Lots of wood ducks.

But mostly it was simply a relaxed day. I didn't fish very hard. With only five miles or so to float, I certainly never paddled hard. Mostly I just drifted along, very slowly through the pools, more quickly through the riffles, gazing at the bluffs, watching huge schools of stonerollers swim in the crystal water, listening to birds singing and soaking up sun.

Once again, I saw no people at all. The river comes out of the Scenic Riverways land about halfway down this float, and there were houses and cabins here and there, mostly not too trashy. As evening approached I entered the last long, deep pool at Buttin Rock. There is a huge hotel-like building atop the bluff at Buttin Rock, and a "cottage" sitting atop the rock itself, a 20 foot high extension of the bluff that juts out into the river. I thought to myself that if it had not been for the Current and Jacks Fork being designated the nation's first National Scenic Riverways, this kind of tackiness might have been found all over the rivers by now.

That last pool, right in the middle of town, was the best wintering pool I'd come to the whole float, and I ended the day with three smallies and a largemouth out of it, bringing my total for the day up to a dozen bass. Certainly not fast fishing, but who cares? Whenever you can be on the Jacks Fork in January without needing even a jacket, you can't complain.

The motel people told me my choices for supper were limited. Only two restaurants were open. I drove up Main Street and checked them both out. One was too crowded, so I stopped at Margie's.

Margie's didn't have too many people, but Margie's isn't very big, either. About 8 tables and booths. Typical deep Ozark town cafe and bar, full of cigarette smoke and certainly with no place to get away from it. I like these little joints but geez, if a state like Montana can pass a no-smoking law that even covers bars, you'd think Missouri could, too. But I can imagine the hue and cry if that ever happened. Pretty much everybody in there was smoking but me. So I adjusted my attitude, sat in the corner closest to the door, and started to read my book. But the two couples sitting closest to me had already had more than a few beers, and it was obvious I wasn't going to get much peace and quiet. In fact, one of the women turned to me and said, "You cain't get any peace and quiet here with us'ns around." So I put down the book and said, "That's okay, I've had peace and quiet all day on the river." I ordered a beer and for the next hour I talked with them about subjects as diverse as the "#$%^&* Park Service", the "@#$%^&* Conservation Department bringin' in those elk", the "@#$%^&*" tourists crowdin' out the place all summer", along with fishing and getting flooded out on the Jacks Fork. I quickly decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and for the most part kept my mouth shut about their opinions. It was difficult.

The chicken fried steak was good and cheap.

I was the only customer at the motel, so it was a quiet night. I awoke when the sun came through the crack in the shades and hit my face. Ate more cookies and tea. Looked at the Atlas. There's really no direct way to get from Eminence to Montauk, so I decided to go a little further out of the way and drive west past Summersville to head north on Hwy. K and cross the Current on Akers Ferry, something I hadn't done in many years.

If there was a sign saying the ferry was closed anywhere on Hwy. K, I didn't see it. But when I got there, a little piece of paper taped to the ferry sign said "closed until further notice".

So, fifteen miles back to where I could go on up Hwy. 17...except that I saw a slightly shorter way to get there. Looked like I could take a county highway which changed to a gravel road that crossed Big Creek and hit another county highway that led to Cedargrove. But I was in the Prius, and some of those gravel roads have unimproved fords crossing the creeks. Oh well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

The crossing WAS unimproved, but Big Creek was bone dry. If it's too bad the upper end of the Eleven Point is a losing stream, it's really unfortunate that Big Creek, the second longest tributary to the Current behind the Jacks Fork and a stream that runs for nearly 30 miles through some of the wildest country in the Ozarks, is also a losing stream. It actually flows enough water in the upper end around Bear Claw Spring to be fishable, but then it all sinks underground, and the stream doesn't get much flow again until the last couple of miles above the Current.

When I got to Tan Vat about 10:30, it was obvious there would be no solitude today. A beautiful Saturday, and there were a half dozen vehicles in the parking lot. I looked upstream and saw an angler. Looked downstream and didn't. So I rigged a pair of nymphs and started downstream. As I was beginning to fish the riffle right below the access, another vehicle pulled up. Two guys got out and walked the bank downstream past me. I expected them to stop at the next riffle but they didn't. Which was good for me, because I proceeded to go down to that riffle and catch 15 rainbows. I had on two nymphs, a size 14 Hare's Ear and a smaller nymph that I have no idea of its name. I tend to buy flies that strike my fancy every time I'm in a fly shop, and then they sit in the box for months. This one was about a size 16 or 18, brownish, not fuzzy, looked a little like a plastic bodied mayfly nyymph with a brown bead head. The Hare's Ear caught a few but most took that no-name nymph. And of course, the 15th fish, which was a nice 15 inch rainbow with perfect fins that looked like a stream bred fish and which took the Hare's Ear, got stuck with my other nymph as I released it, gave a big flop, and broke it off. Only one I had.

There was the ocassional fish rising in the run below that riffle but very few flies floating on the surface or in the air, just a few small caddis and the ocassional very small mayfly. I decided to put on an attractor dry with whatever I could find closest to that lost nymph as a dropper. It worked. I took a couple fish on a little Stimulator dry, and a couple more on the dropper. The guys who had passed me were fishing the next riffle, but by the time I started down that run they disappeared downstream. I got down to that riffle and found they'd left a few, because I caught a half dozen more in it. I started on downstream but saw them ahead, and I was getting hungry, so I decided to fish my way back up to the car and eat.

There were several fish rising in the run I'd caught those in before, and more caddis flying around, so I was switching to a caddis imitation when the two guys came back up the bank. I heard one of them say, "I'm going to drop in here and fish on up." "Here" was exactly where the fish were rising that I was planning on casting to, not 20 yards upstream from where I was standing. I hope those guys weren't Ozark Anglers frequenters, because that really ticked me off. He plunged right into the water where I was going to cast, waded across, and started fishing. So I proceeded to walk up past him, not bothering to wade quietly, and got up to the riffle, where I was happy to catch three more fish. Then I waded on up to the run below that first riffle below the access, still within sight of him, and caught three more. I considered it poetic justice, except that I'm not sure he actually saw me catch most of them. At least he wasn't looking my way whenever I'd glance at him out of the corner of my eye.

I ate some sausage and potato chips at the car while two more vehicles pulled up and parked. It was about 1:30 PM. I decided to go upstream even though I knew there were a bunch of anglers up there.

They must have been wearing out the fish, because the fishing was considerably slower. I caught a few on the attractor dry and the dropper in the flats where many anglers don't fish, and a few in the faster water. Snagged a big hogsucker...that was a first for me. But after a while I'd had enough...just too many people.

I guess I caught around 30 fish altogether. All were rainbows, none were over 15 inches. Nice day, and relaxing drive home to arrive just at dark. Great January road trip.

[Tim Smith]

Where's the "like" button?

Sounds like a great trip.

Didn't know there were chain pickerel in Jack's Fork.

[Al Agnew]

Tim, I've caught quite a few pickerel from the lower Jacks Fork. The long pool right in front of the big campground just downstream from Eminence seems to always have a couple. I was actually surprised that I didn't catch any more after those in that backwater. I did see several in another shallow backwater.

[Brian Sloss]

Great read Al, I enjoyed it very much. Glad you had a good day on the Eleven Point and for that matter on the Jack's fork and the Current. Would love to see that picture of the 20 inch trout. If you make your way down to the Eleven Point again this winter I would enjoy wetting a line with you.

[DaveMac]

It's 9 degrees here in Omaha with a forecast for more snow early next week. Your article made my day!

[Guest]

Great read Al, thank you very much for the report.

[ozark trout fisher]

Thanks for the report...My sporting activities over the last couple months have been pretty much confined to ice fishing for stockers and squirrel hunting, so it's good to hear someone's still getting some good sport out there, although it makes me kinda jealous too. I hate being so darn busy.

[Al Agnew]

Here are a few photos...

Brian, here's the Eleven Point trout:

A couple scenery pictures of the Eleven Point:

One of the two pretty smallies from the Eleven Point:

The smallest of the pickerel I caught, this one from the Alley Spring access on the Jacks Fork. It was the only one I got a picture of because those things are so slimy and hard to handle that taking photos of them isn't worth the effort.

Some scenery pics from the Jacks Fork:

A Jacks Fork smallie:

The Boone and Crockett shiner:

And the last fish of the day on the Jacks Fork:

I didn't get any pictures on the Current...I've got lots of landscape stuff from around Tan Vat and none of the trout were big enough to take a picture anyway.

[aftersh0ck]

Al,

that was awesome, especially the part about all those pickerel, I love seeing them come out out of the weeds in the back pools and creeks but I have never seen as many that you mentioned in one trip.

I was remembering all the times fishing nymphs from the campround to the trophy area when you were talking about fishing the tan vat access, they always produce numbers in that stretch. love the details and the pics.

thanks.

[jasperflyfisher]

Great report!! Thanks.