FLOAT THE WAR EAGLE
The War Eagle River is a major tributary of Beaver Lake. It meanders through Madison and Benton counties before joining Beaver Lake downstream from the War Eagle Mill.
A popular float trip on the War Eagle River begins at the old Arkansas 68 bridge, just downstream from the U.S. 412 bridge. It’s a 5-mile float to Withrow Springs State Park, where Arkansas 23 crosses the War Eagle north of Huntsville.
Source: Staff Report
HINDSVILLE — Ron Duncan doesn't plan on the odds being tipped heavily in favor of the fish. It just works out that way.
When Duncan floated the War Eagle River last winter, he found the stream high, muddy and ice cold. Fishing conditions don't come much worse. This winter's trip on March 7 was like the river never changed.
Duncan waded into the water at our put-in spot and took the water temperature -- 39 degrees. The river looked like coffee with cream. Banks and bluffs were covered in snow. Undaunted, we launched anyway. We beat these same conditions last winter and caught fish.
Odds were leaning even more toward the fish this trip because the river was rising from melting snow on this sunny, warm Friday.
The white shoreline turned to slush. "We're fishing the snow melt is what we're doing. I think it's muddier than it was last year," said Duncan, of Springdale.
A trolling motor pushed his john boat upstream from our put-in spot near Hindsville. Normally this long pool is calm with little current. In the high water, Duncan's electric motor could barely buck the turbid flow.
"We've got to be the sporting-est fishermen of all time," he said. "With these conditions, we give the fish all the chance in the world."
Slow And Easy
Our fishing plan wasn't a bona fide float trip. Instead of drifting downstream from put-in to take-out, we worked a single, long pool of the War Eagle. A Madison County road dead-ends at the river where we launched. The pool stretches about one-half mile upstream from this spot.
Our plan was to work our way upriver with the trolling motor and drift back down. Upstream, downstream, repeat. Duncan lobbed a jig and pig lure to fool a bass. Just one would suffice on this day. I did battle with a crawdad-colored crank bait.
"There's a lot of water coming down this pool," Duncan said. "Usually we're sitting still in this hole"
Both sides of the river were snow covered, but the air temperature pushed 60. At least we were comfortable, and we tried to stay optimistic.
After an hour without a bite, I reminded Duncan of our trip to this very spot last winter. Not long into that expedition in February 2013, Duncan cast a black crank bait and caught a 5-pound largemouth bass.
"Now you're diminishing the weight of my fish. If you remember, it was a 6-pounder," Duncan said.
That bass was a lunker for sure. Duncan managed to wrangle in at least two more bass that day, maybe three. Each of those fish weighed 2 to 3 pounds.
That trip, and this one, is typical winter fishing in an Ozark river or lake. Bites may be few, but the ones you get are often from big bass.
Big is the norm with lures, too. Duncan's jig and pig was big. The crank bait I used was the largest in my tackle box.
We did everything but cross our fingers, toes and eyeballs to get a bite. By noon we hadn't had a peck. When the fishing gets tough, the tough eat lunch.
A nice welcoming gravel bar was situated at the downstream end of the pool. We unfolded lawn chairs in the warm sun, munched sandwiches and formed the afternoon game plan.
Never Give Up
"I say we work our way up this pool another time or two. If we don't catch any by then we might as well go home," Duncan said.
We won the fishing game last year. Would this be the winter the bass win?
Lawn chairs went back in the boat and we headed upstream with fresh optimism. Duncan eased his boat into a slough off the main pool. We'd already fished this backwater twice. Third time's a charm?
Duncan bounced his jig and pig along the bottom and felt a tap. A wicked hook set nearly broke his fishing pole. This fish was no dink. "Get the net!" Duncan hollered.
Music to my ears, but there was one problem. When you haven't got a bite all day, you let your guard down. Turns out that after lunch I'd laid my folding chair right on top of Duncan's landing net. The mesh was tangled in the chair arm and the whole thing was a mess. Meanwhile Duncan's line was slicing water one way, then another while the bass fought.
If I wasn't in a frenzy after that net, I'll bet I'd seen Duncan roll his eyes. He finally just lifted the bass into the boat.
High fives were in order, then Duncan whipped out a measuring tape. The gorgeous War Eagle largemouth measured 18 inches and weighed in the 3-pound range. OK, maybe 3-and-a-half.
"If you're only going to catch one fish all day, it might as well be a good one," Duncan howled.
That bass was a trophy on this tough float, but there was another highlight. Duncan's cellphone didn't ring all day. He's chairman of the Arkansas Game & Fish Commission and taking a cellphone on the river goes with the territory. There's a reason the phone was quiet.
"It's Friday," he said. A lot of Game & Fish employees work four 10-hour days. The agency offered the option to many of it's workers back when fuel prices were sky high.
Plus, that's just the nature of Fridays. Float with Duncan on a Tuesday and it's a different story.
Now it's spring. The water is clearing and getting warmer. Next time Duncan and I visit the War Eagle, those fish better watch out.
Outdoors on 03/20/2014