FLIPPIN - There is a new species of trout in the White River that’s more beautiful than all the others.
Jay Pruitt called it the “Sunset Trout.”
Pruitt, 25, the son of Rusty Pruitt of Bryant, caught the fish last Sunday during our annual mid-January trout fishing adventure on the White River. Actually, it appeared to be a rainbow-cutthroat trout hybrid, or “cuttbow.” Its sides were scarlet, with small dark spots that bled into scarlet gill plates. Waves of purple, pink, silver and gold rippled up its back and swept down to the tail.
It was a unique and memorable catch. It was also a great way to break Jay into this group, which consists of Rusty Pruitt, Bill Eldridge of Benton, Ed Kubler of Benton and my son Matthew.
For the third consecutive year, our headquarters was Cedarwood Lodge, a spacious and well-appointed retreat on the north bank of the White River between the mouths of Crooked Creek and the Buffalo River. This luxurious hideaway comfortably accommodates large groups, and its large, plate glass windows provide a stunning view of the river.
Another newcomer, Brandon Scallion of Conway, planned to join us, but the flu knocked him out of the lineup. He lent us his big flatbottom river boat, however, and it proved indispensable.
On Saturday we hit the water as soon as we stowed our gear in our rooms. Eldridge, Jay Pruitt and Kubler took one boat downstream to Buffalo Shoals. Rusty Pruitt, Matthew and I went upstream to the mouth of Crooked Creek.
Four generators were running at Bull Shoals Dam, so the river was very high and fast. The air was very cold and very windy.
Pruitt usually fly fishes at Shoestring Shoal, but high water prevented that. Instead, we continuously floated past the mouth of Crooked Creek bouncing dropper rigs baited with hot pink Gulp! Alive! worms. It worked very well, and we caught fish until sunset.
For supper, Kubler grilled hubcap size ribeyes and T-bones over an open fire along with corn on the cob and baked potatoes wrapped in foil. Afterward, we gathered around a campfire and swapped jokes and stories into the wee hours.
Kubler’s joke of the week went like this:
“When geese fly, have you ever wondered why one leg of the V is longer than the other?”
No one dared ask why, but Kubler was undaunted.
“It’s because that longer leg has more geese in it.”
During a pit stop in Conway, Kubler shared this bit of wisdom with an innocent bystander when an actual skein of geese passed overhead.
The highlight of Kubler’s weekend was landing a big rock. He was so proud of it that he kept it.
“I hooked this thing, and I thought I had a giant,” Kubler said. “It got out in the current, and it started going back and forth. I thought, man, I’ve got a monster …”
“I got a rock,” Rusty Pruitt interrupted, mimicking Charlie Brown’s lament from It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!
Sunday dawned very cold and windy. After breakfast, we all went to Buffalo Shoals. That’s a great place to fish in high water because of the giant rocks for which the area is named. From a distance, they look like a herd of bison crossing the river.
You can anchor a boat in the calm eddies behind the rocks and fish the runs on both sides. Those conditions are tailor-made for the Gulp! Alive! dropper rig, and the trout ravaged it all morning. I also caught several on a Rapala Ultralight sinking minnow in rainbow trout color.
Disaster struck around lunchtime, long after our partners left us to go upstream. As we headed back to the lodge for lunch, the 20-horsepower Mercury jet drive outboard quit. The pull rope wouldn’t budge. The motor was locked up tight.
Jay and I quickly grabbed paddles and eased the boat to the bank in the swift current. Jay secured the boat by throwing the anchor over a log. There wasn’t another boat on the river. That’s one reason we love fishing here in winter, but now it was right unhandy.
Jay texted an S.O.S. to Rusty and left a message on his voicemail.
About a quarter-mile upriver, a boat came into view. It had three passengers, and one was standing up fly fishing. It looked like our group.
Jay began yelling, and they came to us. They were three high school kids, and they graciously towed us back to the lodge. They refused gas money in return. They even refused the baits I offered them. That proved fortuitous.
Monday was bright, warm and calm, and the river was falling. We secured the use of another boat and motor, and I devoted that morning to fly fishing with Rusty so I could try my new 6-weight RLS combo from Cabelas.
We anchored behind a rock, and we smoked the rainbows with Rusty’s nifty little “Flashback” nymph. They hit our red strike indicators more than they hit the brown nymphs, so I switched to a red San Juan worm and caught even more.
By then, however, the fly fishing bite faded in the falling water. I switched to a spinning rig with a brown trout colored Rapala Ultralight Minnow, one of the lures that the kids refused. The rainbows savaged that little minnow. I caught nine in one tiny area before ebbing current forced us back upstream
After a quick lunch, it was over all too soon, but it was the perfect way to kick start fishing season.
Sports, Pages 28 on 01/26/2014