Big Bad Brown By Steve Brigman

[cotterboy2007]

This is from the Springfield News Leader by Steve Brigman. Fun day to say the least.

When Phillip Rice e-mailed me that he had recently been catching some nice brown trout, I was soon staring south through the windshield of my pickup.

He had been fishing the White River in the afternoons when the water is high and running fast. The need for summertime electricity has been making that pretty much of an everyday thing of late. Throwing large jerkbaits, Phillip has managed four or five browns a day, between 18 and 23 inches, in the week before my arrival.

A trip to the White had been brewing in the to-do section of my brain anyway. Summer is a great time to enjoy the cool air that accompanies the cold water down down the White. Anytime is a good time to catch big brown trout.

“Babe, I have to go down to Arkansas.”

“I’m sure it’s urgent.”

“Yep. I have go to do a brown trout story.”

“Poor baby.”

Phillip warned me right up front not to show up with any weenie gear. He was throwing a baitcaster rig to handle the big baits he was throwing.

I had recently contributed the last of my baitcasters purchased this century to the Gasconade River, so I ended up pairing a rod that I would employ during the fall muskie campaign with a reel that wasn’t clearly identifiable because the paint had worn off. These fine components and a little 10-pound fluorocarbon and my big-trout rig was ready to roll.

It dawned on me as I was rummaging around the garage that I had sure been buying a lot of spinning gear lately. I wonder if that is an age thing.

The gathering of Rogues, Model As, Rapalas and a host of generic unidentifiables offered a nice window into the history of jerkbait manufacturing. The only recent additions were a foursome of X-Raps I had picked up on sale with smallmouths in mind.

The game goes like this: You get on the phone after lunch to find out how many “units” are running at the Bull Shoals Dam. The veteran river rat knows at what rate the rising water travels: when it will be where. Fishing the front end of this water is tough because of all the debris washed down by the new water. Phillip had been catching his fish in high water that was several hours old, from about 6 p.m. until dark.

I said something inappropriate for the pages of this paper when I crossed the bridge at Cotter a few hours before we had planned to hit the river, and there was apparently no water running.

After about 30 minutes of catching up at his house near Rim Shoals, Phillip called to learn that they had just turned on five units, at 3:30 p.m.. Since the water was about two hours later than it had been on recent days, we put in the farthest upstream spot he liked to fish and headed farther upstream.

After a few miles it became apparent that we were not going to outrun the cloud of weeds, sticks and slime of various flavors that was being washed down by the cureent. A couple more miles and it seemed to be getting worse. A phone call confirmed that they had turned on two more units.

It was time to join ’em.

The need to clean your bait off after every cast was mildly aggravating, but imagining what lurked in these waters was a proper antidote. It’s exhilarating, riding the swift current. A distinct pleasure is derived from making the perfect cast to best take advantage of the boat’s quick pace. The rare lure that comes to the boat without need of cleaning is quickly deposited back into the river.

Phillip soon caught a 16-incher, which relieved that sort of hopeless wonder about how much your bait was getting to run without a glob of slime attached.

Suddenly, I stopped some profound thought in mid-sentence.

It’s one of those moments you’ll remember always. I even recall in my mind’s-eye the trees in the background when my line just stopped. I gave it a just-in-case hook set and sure enough, something was alive on the end of the line. As I raised my rod and reeled, the only give was from the drag on my reel.

“This is a good one.”

The fish just seemed heavy and wasn’t fighting as much as just holding in the current. I soon had it coming my way a bit too easily. As I pumped and reeled, a shiny out-of-focus apparition grew into the biggest trout I had ever seen outside of an aquarium.

It was like the fish saw the boat and realized that the program hadn’t gone well for him up to that point, so it launched an angry run into the current.

“I’m running out of line!”

Phillip quickly cranked the motor and chased the fish. When I had gained back most of the line we stopped, but the fish went on anther run. We settled into a tug-o-war with the big brownie lashing out in short, violent sprints. Each approach to the boat would result in a vicious protest. The big trout tried getting tangled in the drag-chain rope and then the motor.

Frantically hustling around the boat, a big net in one hand, Phillip dealt with the boat issues as I panicked and kept the line tight. The whole time, in the clear water below us, we could see a special fish.

That’s nerve-racking.

Finally the fish surfaced near the back of the boat as I stood in the front. A quick stab with the net, and Phillip had the big brown landed.

The salmon-like hooked jaw identified the fish as a male. It measured 29 and a half inches, and on plastic tackle box scales weighed 12 pounds. We’ll be doing a replica of that bad boy.

I’ve got a list of things I want to do before I go to that giant trout stream in the sky. Now I can mark off catching a big brown trout. Let’s see, what’s next on the list … Africa!

Wife: “What’s after that ?”

[TroutBum4wt]

Does Steve Brigman still write for the News-Leader's Outdoor section? I just haven't seen him there. I really enjoy his writing.

[cotterboy2007]

He has moved on. He currently works for Bass Edge and still does some free lancing. He is planning on coming to vist in a week or two, so I will know more then. You can can find some bass fishing articles of his at www.bassedge.com

[TroutBum4wt]

Thanks for the information. Hope to see more of his work.