Alan Thomas calls our outings "molasses strikes" the antithesis of the "lightning strikes" I do with a different fishing buddy.
The lightning strike begins before dawn, when Rusty Pruitt and I rush to some distant stream for an intense day of fishing.
Al's molasses strikes aren't as urgent. We made one last Saturday on the Buffalo River, but not before we had a leisurely breakfast at the Russellville Cracker Barrel. We caught up on each other's lives and talked a little music.
Al is excited about an upcoming date to see the Rolling Stones in Kansas City. I think the Stones checked out decades ago, but Al thinks their recent stuff is some of their best.
"They did a show in London last year," I said. "The Daily Mail ran a big photo gallery of closeups and headlined it, 'Night of the Living Dead.' They did look like cadavers."
"Have you seen them lately?" Al asked, offended. "They are awesome performers."
"Well, sure, but going to a Stones show is like going to a NASCAR race," I countered. "You go to a race to see a wreck. You go to a Stones show because, you know, you want to say you were there the night 'Keef' croaked onstage."
It's not easy to get Al's goat, but by golly I did it.
We arrived at Kyle's Landing around 11 a.m. The water was excellent for floating, and it appeared that most of northern Arkansas and southern Missouri were on hand to enjoy it. The campground looked like a refugee camp. Scores of tents stood side by side and hammocks were strung between every tree. Some people slept in their vehicles.
Such a horde was too much for the poor lavatory system. It smelled as bad as a hog farm.
One outfitter alone put in 95 boats at Steel Creek, so who knows the actual number? Canoes and kayaks came down in waves. There were also a few rafts.
The river was full and swift, but running about 2.6 feet it was just low enough to be trouble. A lot of rocks that would be submerged at 3 feet or more snagged inexperienced floaters.
Their nemesis was a "strainer" in a narrow channel about 300-400 yards above Kyle's. The main current flowed right through it, but a side current also swept toward it. Most people turned over before they could react. I videoed two wrecks from the adjacent gravel bar, but I could have shot them all day.
A canoe with a man and three small children were about to tump when Al and I yelled for the man to grab a bankside bush and stop the boat. The children all wore life vests, but little children can drown in a strainer that big.
Al and I dashed into the waist-deep current. Al steadied their boat from the outside while I worked my way to the bank side. We pulled the canoe backward out of the bush, angled the bow to the middle, gave a mighty shove and told the father to paddle like hell.
"I won't see you again to tell you later, so thank you," he said with sincere gratitude.
A man and two women came down and flipped immediately. The man was in front and made no effort to paddle. He looked catatonic. After we helped them right their boat and gather their gear, the man told us what happened. He and the ladies had hiked to Hemmed-In Hollow. He fell and hit his head on a rock. He was concussed, but he also separated his shoulder. He couldn't even lift his paddle
Two other women tumped. The one in front was the mother. Her lip quivered as she fought back tears.
"It happens, ma'am," I said comfortingly.
"This is the fourth time today," she said in a quivering voice. "I'm so sore and so scratched up. I'm never coming on this river again. This was all her idea, and, and ..."
All of her anger and frustration poured out. The daughter was amused but had the good sense not to show it. Her mother finished venting, turned to face forward and cried.
Her daughter shrugged, and I winked.
"Your takeout is about five minutes away and there's no other obstacles between here and there," I said.
The mother's countenance lightened, and we gave them a push.
The fishing wasn't very good. I caught a couple of smallmouth bass and a mess of warmouths and green sunfish.
Molasses strikes are less about fishing than about having fun, and we accomplished that mission ten-fold. I haven't laughed so much in ages.
Sports on 07/05/2015