Upper Jacks Fork...the Good And The Bad

[Al Agnew]

For a number of years now, I've reserved two or three days in late summer to do the upper Jacks Fork from Buck Hollow to Alley Spring. It's always a solo trip, just me getting away from it all and spending time in the wild in a canoe and a tent, fishing as hard as I want, stopping and starting when I wish, and mainly just soaking up the surroundings on what should be Missouri's premier near wilderness river experience.

And make no mistake, it should be. I've had people say that it's not really wild, that there is private land with houses and roads as close as a half mile from the river in some places, and you'll hear traffic noises and lawn mowers. But what the Jacks Fork doesn't have is a lot of private land right on the river, with cabins in sight and open bottomland pastures full of cows. The combination of being owned by the National Park Service and being nearly a canyon with no flat bottomland at all for much of its length precludes that, so if you're on the river, except at the accesses, you won't see any signs of civilization, just woods and bluffs and gravel bars. No other river in Missouri, or anywhere else in the Ozarks with the exception of the lower end of the Buffalo, is like that.

Yes, that's the way it should be, and if the Park Service had the guts and the manpower to do their job, it would be.

I always go in late summer because that's when I am assured of near solitude. The river gets far too low to easily float; on this trip is was flowing less than 25 cubic feet per second at Buck Hollow, and less than 50 cfs just above Alley Spring. At those flows I know I will scrape bottom in every riffle and have to walk many of them, and not just in the riffles, some of the slow water areas are only a couple inches deep from bank to bank. In August, with its heat and humidity, not many people are willing to try to float it, but the water is cool and the cooler is full of cold drinks and I count the heat and the work as a small price to pay for that solitude.

The lady at the canoe rental said more than once as I made arrangements for the shuttle, "You know you're going to be walking a lot!" I assured her I did. She also said, "You know that the snakes are really bad in the summer on that river." I told her that in my experience there were more cottonmouths on the upper Jacks Fork than on any other Ozark river I'd ever floated, and I knew I had to be respectful of them. The canoe rental people wouldn't dream of renting their own boats for that upper stretch in low summer water levels, but they are fine with me tearing up the bottom of mine.

I got on the river around noon. There were two mothers with small children swimming at the Buck Hollow Access, and I wouldn't see another person until I passed the Blue Spring Access a few miles downstream later in the afternoon. In fact, I didn't SEE anybody there, but I heard them talking up in the parking lot. Nor did I see anybody at the informal access a half mile downstream on a trail leading off the Blue Spring road, but I heard a truck pulling in behind the trees. In the meantime, I'd passed several beautiful bluffs, seen the trickle of spring branches coming into the river, and caught a bunch of smallmouth. A couple miles below Blue Spring, however, there was a pickup parked right on a gravel bar in what should be the middle of nowhere, with young guys swimming. they quizzed me on where I was from and where I came from. I didn't quiz them on how they got there; I knew the "road" they had used was one of those illegal accesses.

I had no preconceived idea of how far I wanted to float that afternoon, content to fish until fairly late and then pick out a good gravel bar. I had three days, which for me is plenty of time to cover the 24 mile stretch. As it turned out, the sun was going down as I passed Jam-up Cave. I always consider camping at Jam-up, because the gravel bar across from the cave is high and clean and the view is spectacular. But I always opt not to, because one of those illegal access roads that Park Service doesn't have the guts to close or the manpower to police comes down to that gravel bar, and I always have a fear of drunken idiots coming there in the middle of the night. I looked it over this time, and noted that, thankfully, there was no trash, though there were plenty of fresh ATV tracks. I also considered another gravel bar on the same side, just downstream out of sight of the Jam-up bar, but there were fresh ATV tracks there, too, along with some trash. So I continued downstream. I stopped to look over two more bars but the rocks on them were too big, and finally settled on a really nice bar with a flat, small gravel area to pitch the tent, as it was getting dark. The fact that there was a cottonmouth swimming along the far bank as I reached that spot didn't dissuade me; after all, I'd already seen four other cottonmouths that afternoon, and they could be anywhere.

I barely got the tent pitched before it was too dark to see, and ate my supper of cold pork ribs and potato salad in the dark, bothered slightly by a few mosquitos nibbling on my bare ankles. It had been up in the 90s all afternoon and the heat was taking a while to dissipate. I was more willing to put up with the mosquitos than to retreat to the stuffy tent. I decided to take a stroll along the edge of the bar with my flashlight, shining into the water just to see what kind of fish I could see. There were a number of madtoms in the shallows, and I wished I could catch a couple for my aquarium, but had no way of keeping them alive.

As I was walking along the edge of the bar downstream from the tent, directing the beam of my light in the water, I swung the beam to the bank just ahead of me, and there was a smallish cottonmouth, just three feet from my bare legs. The snake wasn't coiled and was facing away from me, sitting still in the circle of light, its wedge-shaped head and dark, thick body unmistakeable. The others I'd seen were fairly boldly marked, as if they'd freshly shed, but this one looked like it was ready to shed its old skin, it's color almost grayish black in the light.

I decided it was time to retreat to the tent.

I always read for a while in the tent until my eyelids droop. This time I had just bought a book at the grocery store while shopping for food for the trip, and to my dismay, when I started reading it I immediately realized I'd already read it, just a year or so before. Obviously it hadn't made a huge impression on me the first time, but I knew what was coming with every page. I kept reading for a bit and then turned off the light. A screech owl called in the forest along the bar, and that's the last thing I remembered until I woke up in the middle of the night. I tossed and turned for a while and finally rearranged my pillow situation. It had cooled off nicely, not cool enough for the sleeping bag, but enough that it felt good under the sheet I'd brought. So I wadded up the sleeping bag that I'd been sleeping atop, and used it for a better pillow. The next thing I knew I woke up in the gray light of dawn.

I quickly packed up camp, loaded the canoe, and was fishing before the sun came up. The fishing had been inconsistent the day before, but it started off well. The biggest smallmouth I'd caught yesterday had been a 17 incher, and I quickly matched it with one the same size on a buzzbait. The day before, only about 30% of the bass I'd caught had been over 12 inches, but of my first 16 fish this day, 10 of them were 12 inches or better.

There are certain spots along this float that have produced big fish for me on more than one occasion, and other spots that I just know should have big fish. I was using a Gunfish when I came to one of those banks. I can't really tell you what makes those spots good; they don't look much different from a hundred other places, but somehow I expect to catch something good in some places while in others I only hope for it. This was one of those places that I expected a big one, and I got it. Laying the fish on my paddle blade, I thought it might make 20 inches, but it was a half-inch shy of the 20 inch mark on the paddle.

I passed Rymer's Landing, deserted in the mid-morning sun. The teachers' resort a mile downstream was also deserted, but I wondered how many people would use it now that it is no longer reserved only for teachers' association members. I remembered a few years back when several people watched me use the rope trick to remove a treble hook I'd buried in my calf right in front of the resort; it happened to be the only time in the years I've been floating this stretch when there were actually people there to see me.

This time, when a 12 inch smallmouth thrashed in my hand and stuck a hook in my ring finger, there was no one there to see. I gingerly got the fish off the lure, studied the hook a bit, and decided the barb was barely under the skin and just a quick jerk with the pliers would get it out, which is fortunate because the rope trick almost requires two free hands. The hook came out and I continued on, but it was a reminder that, when you're alone it pays to be extra careful with things like unhooking fish.

I noticed that there were ATV tracks leading from the resort gravel bar downstream. They continued for over a mile, crossing the river at each riffle. It's a little dismaying that somebody apparently staying at the resort was doing something that blatantly illegal. But it's nothing new; there were plenty of tracks on a lot of the gravel bars along this stretch, thanks to those illegal access roads the Park Service can't or won't close.

The problem with them is not just the tracks themselves. While this time the river was surprisingly clean, at other times I've seen plenty of gravel bars covered with fresh trash. But the worst I saw this day was at Chalk Bluff, one of the most gorgeous spots on the river. There's an illegal road coming down to the river on the same side as the bluff, a quarter mile above it. People cross the river there and then ride to a big, high gravel bar right in front of the bluff, where there's a nice deep pool for swimming and fishing. Some pinhead had, for whatever reason, carried a huge heavy machinery tire to that gravel bar, probably planning on burning it in a bonfire. The thing had to weigh hundreds of pounds, and it never ceases to amaze me the lengths people will go to in order to do something stupid and obnoxious. They didn't burn it, though it looked like they'd tried, but of course it was way too much trouble to haul it back out.

The other thing the illegal roads do is give the pinheads access to remote parts of the river where they can poach. Remember, this section of river is a special management area with a one fish, 18 inch limit on smallmouth. Just a few years ago the fishing was nothing short of phenomenal, with lots of fish and lots of big ones. It isn't that way any longer; each year I notice the number of bigger fish, or even fish over 11 or so inches, being fewer and fewer, and there are more pieces of fishing related trash and bait containers mixed in with the detritus on those ATV scarred gravel bars. It really appears that the local poachers are taking a lot of fish from the upper Jacks Fork.

Still, I couldn't complain too much about the fishing. By the end of the day I'd caught four 17 inchers in addition to the 19.5. All came on topwater, either the buzzbait or one or another of the walk the dog lures I'd tried throughout the day. As you travel downstream, the habitat actually gets poorer and poorer on the upper Jacks Fork. Between Buck Hollow and Rymers it is almost as good as it gets on an Ozark stream, with big, rocky pools, short, deep fast water areas, plenty of riffles to cool and aerate the water, and tree cover to keep it shaded. Below Rymers, however, the river begins to open up and long stretches are shallow and open to the sun. By the time you get to Bay Creek, the deep pools are scarce and the very shallow gravelly areas are everywhere. The culprit is probably all those small creeks that drain open uplands to either side of the river's canyon, uplands that are more and more developed and over-pastured, where erosion can continually dump gravel.

The surprising thing is that those poor habitat areas still have a lot of fish. Anywhere the fish can get under something, whether it be a rock or a log or just some brush along the bank, there will be a pod of smallmouth in the vicinity, and as you approach them they will flee to the overhead cover and disappear. I actually saw more of the larger fish in those shallow areas in the lower part of the float, but whether that was because there were actually more fish there or whether it was because they are a lot more visible, I can't say.

Still, there were definitely not the numbers of fish I'd seen (and caught) in past years. I kept moving and fishing topwater, partly because that was what was working and partly because that's how I like to fish. I'd stopped once in mid-morning to eat some breakfast of Little Debbies snack cakes and a Coke, lying on a gravel bar in the shade and watching a couple dozen vultures and a redtailed hawk riding the thermals coming up the high bluff on the other side of the river, and had nearly fallen asleep while doing so. And I'd stopped for lunch and a couple of times to swim and cool off, but as the afternoon waned I approached Bay Creek, and realized I'd covered more than 11 miles this day after doing about 7 miles the day before. I didn't want to stop fishing because a bit of cloud cover had moderated the heat and the fishing seemed to be getting better. I had 6 miles left in the float, and three hours before dark. And I wasn't looking forward to trying to read the book I'd just read a year ago. Why not fish on out? The vehicle should be waiting at Alley Spring, the fishing might really be good just before dark, and I could even fish a bit after dark if that's the way things worked out.

As it turned out, the fishing didn't get much better and I ended up paddling the last two miles without making more than a few casts. I could barely make out the gleam of my white Highlander in the parking lot when I pulled onto the gravel bar landing, but I was relieved to see it, since it had struck me that the canoe rental people might keep it at their place until the next morning, when I'd told them I'd be finishing the float. I had the spare key but if they'd done so, they would have had my regular keys and their shop would be closed for the evening. I was happy that they'd moved it to the parking lot earlier than they needed to.

The two plus hour drive home gave me plenty of time to think. I've hesitated to write here about my Jacks Fork trips in the past, since I like having the river pretty much to myself in the late summer. The fishing used to be excellent, now it's just good, and probably getting worse. When you float a stretch once a year, it gives you a perfect perspective to see the changes happening from year to year, and none of the changes I see are for the better. Each year, the ATV tracks on the gravel bars are more prevalent, the fishing declines, and the shallow gravel stretches on the lower portion get more extensive. The upper Jacks Fork, as wonderful as it still is, could be so much better if those illegal roads were policed and closed for good, though that wouldn't in itself help the loss of habitat all that much. Even so, it might make a bit of difference on the habitat problems, since the more disturbance there is on gravel bars and riffle areas, the looser the gravel gets and more it moves.

I love the upper Jacks Fork. I just wish it wasn't declining the way it is.

[Smalliebigs]

Man I love your trip posts Al.....you make it to where I feel I'm right there with you. I'm very bummed to here your opinion of the upper Jacks....it hurts my brain to hear that. Unfortunately it seems to be the case for just about every water shed. Thanks for posting though.

On a happier note I have run with your topwater technique.....I have been thinking about you recently because I have been fishing topwater almost exclusively now for about two months and just nailing some quality fish.....it has become a confidence thing now I believe??? I just feel I can entice some strikes on top now.....sometimes it seems I fish it relentlessly enough to where they just get pissed and hit it.....whatever it is it's working.....I think it's some confidence, some cadence and lure placement. I told my dad the other day at his farm on Cedar creek when I nailed a nice fish in his face that I had just Al Agnewed him....he looked at me puzzled and I just laughed

[Greasy B]

Yeah I agree, good report, bad news. I would rather hear the truth even if hurts.

[Andy & JoAnne]

That was a nice read. Thanks for sharing.

[Al Agnew]

Man I love your trip posts Al.....you make it to where I feel I'm right there with you. I'm very bummed to here your opinion of the upper Jacks....it hurts my brain to hear that. Unfortunately it seems to be the case for just about every water shed. Thanks for posting though.

On a happier note I have run with your topwater technique.....I have been thinking about you recently because I have been fishing topwater almost exclusively now for about two months and just nailing some quality fish.....it has become a confidence thing now I believe??? I just feel I can entice some strikes on top now.....sometimes it seems I fish it relentlessly enough to where they just get pissed and hit it.....whatever it is it's working.....I think it's some confidence, some cadence and lure placement. I told my dad the other day at his farm on Cedar creek when I nailed a nice fish in his face that I had just Al Agnewed him....he looked at me puzzled and I just laughed

Yeah, I keep trying the soft plastics whenever the topwater fishing gets a little slow, but seldom catch any more fish on them than I've been catching on top. No way I'm going to start out using anything but topwater in the summer...it works and it's a heck of a lot of fun, even if sometimes a little frustrating. Some of the most spectacular strikes don't result in hook-ups. My most memorable strike on this trip, there was a little cluster of logs at the foot of a fast riffle, right where all the riffle water crashed into them. Given the shallowness of the riffle, I knew the canoe would hang up there and I could cast down to those logs at my leisure. There were three or so underwater logs crisscrossing right in front of a rootwad that stuck up out of the water, with about a foot of space between each of the logs. So I made a cast with a Sammy right over the logs and up against the rootwad, gave it three or so twitches, and a 17 inch class smallie came straight up between two of the logs and out of the water like a nuclear missile out of a submarine, its whole body clearing the water and knocking the lure three feet to the side.

I also love the wakes they make in the shallower water, or sometimes when one is lying right against the bank and your lure is working five feet off the bank. You'll be watching the lure but you'll see the wake, or just a tiny bit of disturbance in the water off to the side, and you've learned to get ready because the explosion is coming. The hardest thing to do then is to not set the hooks way too soon when it comes.

[Al Agnew]

The Current River country is such a magical place, and it really hurts to see how it's treated by both the locals and so many of the visitors. There's a creek running into the Current that I won't name. It's like a mini-Jacks Fork, deep forest on both sides, no cleared bottomland, 12 miles between where you can access it and the Current and then several miles to the nearest access on the Current. It's big enough to hold some smallmouth, and big enough that I THINK I could float-wade it. I always looked at it on the topo maps and dreamed of doing so, because it should be one of those remote streams that few people would ever know about or think of fishing and "floating".

But I looked at it a while back on Google Earth, and that really bummed me out. For the entire 12 mile length of "wild creek", EVERY gravel bar was a web of ATV tracks.

[Smalliebigs]

Yeah, I keep trying the soft plastics whenever the topwater fishing gets a little slow, but seldom catch any more fish on them than I've been catching on top. No way I'm going to start out using anything but topwater in the summer...it works and it's a heck of a lot of fun, even if sometimes a little frustrating. Some of the most spectacular strikes don't result in hook-ups. My most memorable strike on this trip, there was a little cluster of logs at the foot of a fast riffle, right where all the riffle water crashed into them. Given the shallowness of the riffle, I knew the canoe would hang up there and I could cast down to those logs at my leisure. There were three or so underwater logs crisscrossing right in front of a rootwad that stuck up out of the water, with about a foot of space between each of the logs. So I made a cast with a Sammy right over the logs and up against the rootwad, gave it three or so twitches, and a 17 inch class smallie came straight up between two of the logs and out of the water like a nuclear missile out of a submarine, its whole body clearing the water and knocking the lure three feet to the side.

I also love the wakes they make in the shallower water, or sometimes when one is lying right against the bank and your lure is working five feet off the bank. You'll be watching the lure but you'll see the wake, or just a tiny bit of disturbance in the water off to the side, and you've learned to get ready because the explosion is coming. The hardest thing to do then is to not set the hooks way too soon when it comes.

awesome Al !!!!! I couldn't agree more the strikes are simply heart pounding......and the " I Al Agnewed it" phrase was out of respect by the way

[Smalliebigs]

The Current River country is such a magical place, and it really hurts to see how it's treated by both the locals and so many of the visitors. There's a creek running into the Current that I won't name. It's like a mini-Jacks Fork, deep forest on both sides, no cleared bottomland, 12 miles between where you can access it and the Current and then several miles to the nearest access on the Current. It's big enough to hold some smallmouth, and big enough that I THINK I could float-wade it. I always looked at it on the topo maps and dreamed of doing so, because it should be one of those remote streams that few people would ever know about or think of fishing and "floating".

But I looked at it a while back on Google Earth, and that really bummed me out. For the entire 12 mile length of "wild creek", EVERY gravel bar was a web of ATV tracks.

darn!!!!! the atv's are an absolute cancer to the corridor for many reasons that we all know.....you have officially sold me that those corridors need to be in lock down.....horses,cows,atvs and trucks need to go....such a bummer. My uncle gigs on the Jacks every winter and they park their trailer right on a sand bar that they access off of the illegal roads you speak of but, he has lived in Emminence for decades and feels it's his right to do so......when I give him crap about it, all he says is thanks for the advice city boy.....you worry about the gun violence in the city and I'll worry about the river???? typical retort from locals of his area......not much that can be done I suppose??? I love my uncle but, hate his ethics towards the corridor.

[Born to Fish]

GREAT post Al! Brought back some great memories! I haven't been on the Jacks Fork in about 30 years! It's a little piece of heaven, in the Missouri Ozarks!

[countryred]

Great read Al. I have just gotten to know this river the past 3 years or so. I love how natural the upper Jacks looks without any resorts or all that many people. It's a shame that the fishing has declined, maybe the 1-fish, 18" limit will help. I used to fish the Salt often and saw the rise and fall in cycles due to weather, flooding, and overfishing/ poachers. A few of the local, and some imports would destroy the fish, just for an easy fry. The only thing that helped was local catch and release guys and the local game warden who was a big fan of the fishery keeping an eye on it.

I know poaching still happens there and on all streams and we owe it to them to protect all we can. Take pics of any poachers and the fish they have on stringers, get to know the wardens, prosecuting attorney, and park rangers.

I don't know where the illegal roads are down there. I have seen a few that go to the river and have parking lots but no names that I know of, same ones? Boy scout camp and ebb and flow spring roads come to mind.

Maybe the wilderness aspect of the river will help protect it. Much like Jam up cave. If it was easy to get to it would be destroyed. The 4 wheelers and trucks on gravel bars with the beer keg campers are probably the biggest issue but should be the easiest to catch.

I Love topwater fishing but have yet to draw a strike there yet. I seem to only get bit on small pastics around deep wood. but I haven't tried it as much as I should. The clarity seems to be right for topwaters.