75 Years fishing Roaring River...

[Steve Smith]

Wouldn't it be cool if Jack was an OAF memeber. I've never met the fellow, but I bet Tim Homesley has:

CASSVILLE, Mo.-If arranging your honeymoon around a favorite fishing spot and spending an average of 65 days a year there qualifies as obsessive, Jack Overman is officially obsessed. The Pittsburg, Kan., resident has spent so much time at Roaring River State Park over the past 75 years that he has been granted the honor of receiving the first permit of the 2007 fishing season there.

Overman's attachment to the park began in 1932, when his father bundled him, his brother and mother into the family's boxy, black Dodge and headed across the Kansas-Missouri state line for a fishing trip. The beauty of the Ozarks captivated him instantly.

"We were amazed at the beauty of the spring and the rush of the clear water," he recalls. "We camped, slept in the car and really roughed it. At the end, we agreed that this is where we would spend our entire two week's vacation next year."

And so they did. Over the last 76 years, he has spent as much time as possible at Roaring River. When he got married in 1945, he and his bride, Doris, honeymooned at Roaring River. A journal he began keeping in 1985 shows that he has spent an average of 65 days a year at the park. Many years he spent nearly every weekend there during the fishing season from March through October, plus extended summer vacations.

A career that long is bound to encompass a lot of change, and Overman has seen his share. When he began fishing at Roaring River, a daily fishing tag cost 25 cents, and people camped wherever they liked. The Civilian Conservation Corps transformed the undeveloped site into the showplace visitors know today, quarrying rock and hewing logs to build the first hatchery building, Trophy Fish Lake, the magnificent stone lodge and dozens of other buildings.

Roaring River's accommodations were modest in the '30s. Overman recalls renting a cabin for $1.50 a day. It was 20 by 20 feet, stood on stilts and had a hipped roof. The lower 3 feet of the walls were wood, and the upper half was screen. Rolls of canvas could be lowered for privacy or to keep out rain. Campers brought their own cots and bedding. Now people rent air-conditioned cabins and camp in luxurious, motor homes with full kitchens and televisions hooked up to satellite dish antennas.

For Overman, the most significant differences between then and now are the dramatic increase in numbers of anglers and the advances in their equipment. He isn't happy about the latter.

"Back in the '30s, open-faced and closed-face spinning reels hadn't been invented yet, so it was all fly-fishing. That was work. It took some skill. Now anyone can catch trout."

Overman has vivid recollections of learning how to use a fly rod from an old hand at the park.

"He asked me if I had a dollar bill. I said, yes, and he told me to put it under my right elbow. He reminded me that if I tried to throw the rod (instead of using his wrist only), I would lose my dollar. He said 'Keep your elbow tight against your body, and let the wrist and rod do the work.' This was really the most enjoyable time to fish the river in my 76 years, because there was nothing but fly-fishing - no grubs, plastic eggs, worms, jigs and so forth. Just flies."

Now a veteran himself, he recalls many an opening morning when he had to dip his rod in the water repeatedly to melt the ice on the line guides. Other recollections involve hot weather. Overman tricked more than one newcomer to Roaring River into jumping into the water for relief from sweltering heat.

"It was always fun to bring new people to the park, get camp set up and say, 'Come on, let's get our suits on and jump in the river.' The yells and screams were worth the trip, as we hadn't told them about the 55 degree water."

The biggest trout Overman has ever caught was a 5.5-pounder landed on a 5.5-foot bamboo fly rod and a 2-pound leader. It now hangs on his wall at home.

A friend, whom Overman taught to trout fish, inconsiderately caught a monstrous 8-pounder on his fourth or fifth outing, and "To add insult to injury, he baked it!"

The Overman's daughter and her husband, who also live in Pittsburg, Kan., have become regular visitors to Roaring River, too. Their son has lived in San Francisco since 1976, but even that distance is not enough to prevent the western branch of the family from making regular pilgrimages to their ancestral fishing haunts in Barry County

Although crowds often vie for prime fishing spots at the starting siren each morning, Overman still manages to recapture the solitude of his early experiences at Roaring River. Late in the evening, during the last hour of legal fishing, the stream stands mostly deserted. That is when he wades out into the chill water. On any given evening, you might find him there contentedly casting a royal coachman, right elbow tucked firmly against his side.

[Danoinark]

Couldn't we all be as lucky!

Dano

[Terry Beeson]

You said it, Dano...

[Greg]

That's a great story. Thanks for sharing it.

Greg

[Tightline]

Wow, neat story,I read it twice.

[Don]

Interesting, a good read. Thanks Steve.

Don