FLIPPIN -- Although the hills were gray and bare, the White River was awash in a rainbow palette of silver, pink, red, gold and brown last weekend.
In fact, rainbows were plentiful from Redbud Shoal from Buffalo Shoal during my annual trout confab with Bill Eldridge, Rusty Pruitt, Ed Kubler and my son Matthew Hendricks.
Ken and Mary Ann Green hosted us at Cedarwood Lodge, a plush and comfortable villa on the river about a half-mile upstream from Ranchette Access. It has enough space to comfortably suit groups larger than ours and includes a fully stocked kitchen and den area with a big-screen satellite TV. An array of windows on the back drenches the rooms in light and provides a panoramic view of the river.
Matthew and I arrived late Friday night before the rest of the group and started fishing early Saturday morning. In the mornings we usually make the long run to Buffalo Shoal, and if the water is high enough, we go all the way to Buffalo City. In the afternoons we go upstream to the mouth of Crooked Creek. We've always passed an attractive stretch of water about a mile upstream. We've never see anyone fish it, so we gave it a shot. It was a good call. We spent nearly the whole weekend there.
We stopped in front of a cluster of boulders that stand at the edge of a deep drop. I cast my favorite trout lure, a clear Sebile Stick Shadd, and caught a 12-inch rainbow on the third cast. Matthew caught a rainbow with a Berkley Gulp! Alive red worm on a bottom rig.
With two generators running at Bull Shoals Dam, there was enough current for a swift drift. Idling the motor in gear was slightly faster than the current, allowing us to stay on station fairly easily. We worked a long stretch between the boulder cluster and the bend about a quarter of a mile upstream.
We caught and released many rainbows until I hooked a 14-incher. As I reached for the hook with my forceps, the fish shuddered, broke my line and swam away with the lure.
I switched to a new lure, a Sebile suspending Koolie Minnow. It was clear amber with green stripes, with glitter suspended in oil within the body. It had a nice flash, and the oil altered the lure's buoyancy with each jerk. That's one lure trout probably haven't seen, and it provoked an attack from the big fish of the day, a 16-inch brown trout.
Our friends were eating lunch when we returned to the lodge. We divided up and went to the mouth of Crooked Creek. Pruitt, Matthew and I were in one boat. Eldridge and Kubler were in the other. The water was a little too low for drift fishing that stretch, and we didn't catch fish until we got farther downstream
On Sunday, we went downstream to Buffalo Shoal. Kubler and Eldridge anchored behind a rock and caught a lot of fish with the Gulp! Alive worms, as did Matthew. Pruitt caught them fly fishing, and I caught them with a Rapala Ultralight Minnow in brown trout color.
Whenever Pruitt hooks a fish, he yells, "Yeehaw!" I started yelling, "A tlout! A tlout!"
Irritated, Pruitt asked me what in the blankety-blank I was saying.
"Tony Randall, from the 7 Faces of Dr. Lao," I said. "One of my favorite fishing scenes ever."
"Well, knock it off!" Pruitt said.
Matthew had never eaten trout, so we kept three rainbows. Back at the lodge, we built a campfire so he could roast the fish. He impaled each trout with a stick without gutting and roasted it over the fire. The meat was moist and evenly cooked. He ate it down to the rib cage and pronounced it delicious.
After lunch, Pruitt joined the other boat while Matthew and I returned to the deep hole upstream from the lodge. The bite was slow, but we managed to catch a few fish, including one that hit like a linebacker. My reel buzzed as it dragged line off the real, and I thought I had hooked "Muy Grande." I was mistaken. It was only about 13-14 inches long.
I had hooked the fish in the tail. Shortly after releasing it, I cast one last time. The lure sailed untethered into the sunset. I saw it land, but I couldn't find it in the swift current.
I had one more Koolie Minnow in the box, though, in rainbow trout color. It proved to be the showstopper.
We learned early Monday that all eight generators were running, so we dashed upstream to Redbud Shoal. Matt and I quickly caught a couple of small rainbows. Then I cast the Koolie to a tangle of logs against the bank and caught a gorgeous cutthroat trout.
"They're like the largemouth bass of the trout world," I said. "Cutts like to hide under woody cover and undercut banks.
"Thank you for making my day," I said as I released the cutthroat.
"You're very welcome," replied Matthew.
My day wasn't quite made just yet. With Eldridge drifting nearby, I cast to an opening between a couple of big rocks. The water was beginning to rise when I jerked the Koolie down. It stopped with a jolt, and I set the hook hard. A big golden flash erupted on the surface. Eldridge and I cheered as the rod bowed.
The fish sped for deep water, and I reeled fast to keep the line tight. The trout made several hard runs, stripping line and making the reel whine. We finally netted a fat, healthy, 18-inch brown trout. After posing for a few photos, I let it go.
Soon after, the full brunt of the generation surge arrived. The river quickly became a torrent and was full of loose grass, coontail moss, algae and wood. Every cast fouled our hooks, so we drifted back home.
Matthew got disgusted and quit, but I continued fishing.
"If you catch a fish in this, I'll bow down to you and say, 'You are the Grand Wazoo!'" he said.
This is a family tradition that my wife started. Whenever we play board games, cards, chess or checkers, the losers chant three times, "You are the Grand Wazoo!"
I caught a rainbow trout, but Matt was silent.
"Well, let's have it," I said.
"That's no kind of fish," he scoffed. "That's only 2 inches long."
"It's 10 inches long, and I am the Grand Wazoo," I insisted. "Let's hear it."
"Nope. Not gonna do it."
That argument continued almost to Harrison. That's where we found Blue Bunny ice cream turtle bars and contentment at a convenience store.
Sports on 01/25/2015