MOUNTAIN VIEW -- When you need refuge from the heat and humidity of July, there's no cooler place in Arkansas than a trout stream.
After spending the weekend fishing for bass in a southeast Arkansas sauna, I traveled Tuesday to north Arkansas to fish the White River with Ray Tucker, host of Ray Tucker's Arkansas Outdoors, It's a Natural radio program on KABZ, 103.7-FM. Our destination was the section from Boswell Shoal to the Sylamore Access, at the confluence of Sylamore Creek.
That part of the White River is lightly fished because it is not as suitable for trout as the colder sections nearer to the dam. It is vulnerable to low levels of dissolved oxygen and coupled with warm water, that's a tough environment for trout. Therefore, the Arkansas Game and Fish Commission doesn't stock as many trout in that part of the river, and there aren't as many big trout as there are upstream.
Nevertheless, I caught my biggest cutthroat trout 10 years ago at Boswell Shoal.
On that same day I experienced one of my greatest days of smallmouth fishing. It was a welcome and pleasant surprise, and while I hold that day close in my heart, I didn't return until Tuesday.
For three hours I worked Tucker into a near frenzy talking about that great day, but the sight of the river discouraged us. It flowed brown, high and fast. Add heat, a waning moon and a succession of thunderstorms, and we had a poor recipe for fishing.
Even so, the cool air rising from the river was refreshing. My War Eagle danced upriver ahead of its 25-horsepower Yamaha, and we exclaimed loudly when we passed through pockets of hot air.
When we reached Boswell Shoal, I remembered the highlights from a decade ago. That was a high point of the 2006 Summer Smallmouth Tour, but that was a day of low, clear water that was ideal for fishing from a canoe.
As soon as I cut the motor, the swift current swept us downstream. My trolling motor on its highest setting did little to slow our drift, and it was clear that we would not be able to fish slow enough to catch smallmouths.
A thunderstorm downstream formed a gray curtain that drenched Mountain View, and lightning struck the hilltops. The storm was drifting our direction, and I chided myself for removing my rain gear to make room for tackle.
We were famished, so I eased the boat into a small spring branch on the east side of the river under a railroad trestle to ride out the storm.
That water in the branch was as clear as glass, with a light cobalt tint. Tucker tied the boat to a tree, and we chatted for more than an hour as we enjoyed sandwiches and cold drinks. We watched a railroad maintenance crew inspect the trestle and its piers, and we enjoyed the company of songbirds that flitted in and out of the hollow.
"It's amazing how many people live in this state that have no idea that places like this exist," Tucker said. "If only they knew what they're missing."
The storm skirted us, and we resumed fishing. Smallmouth bass were out of the equation, but the conditions were somewhat suitable for using stickbaits for trout.
Our liability was not knowing the quality of the trout fishery. We watched a guide clean a mess of stocker-size rainbows for his clients at Angler's Resort, but we wanted big fish, and we didn't know if they were available. There is a reason, after all, why the AGFC removed the special regulations section from Mt. Olive to Allison, and it's because those special regs didn't enhance a trophy trout fishery.
I gave Tucker one of the best big trout baits in my box, a Long A Bomber in rainbow trout pattern. I tied on shad color Luck-E-Strike Rick Clunn stickbait, but we wasted a lot of time removing algae and assorted vegetation from our hooks.
Discouraged, Tucker and I resumed our smallmouth hunt. We used Zoom Tiny Brush Hawgs, but the current prevented us from fishing rocky and woody cover perpendicular to the bank. Instead, we dragged the baits behind the boat, which caused us to snag in the rocks and lose a lot of baits.
So it went for the next few hours, from stickbaits to soft plastics and back again. Tucker and I each caught a stocker-size rainbow.
Storms continued popping up to the south, but they all drifted to the east and west.
We noticed, however, that the water was falling. The tops of submerged rocks gradually poked through the surface, and shoals grew shallow. That was good, but the brown water persisted.
Tired of losing lizard and Brush Hawg rigs, I switched to a tube bait. I have special tube weights that fit inside the lure, so there is no external agent to snag in rocks.
Eventually, the current slowed enough to enable me to keep the boat stationary with the trolling motor on its highest setting. I started getting smallmouth bites, but the fish grabbed only the back half of the bait. They held on when I set the hook, but the hook was never in their mouths.
I caught a warmouth and a green sunfish, and I finally saw big smallmouth take a swipe at a Luck-E-Strike stickbait. That was my only good chance.
Meanwhile, the river continued to fall, and the light softened as the sun drifted behind the hills.
"Stay with that rainbow Bomber, Ray," I said. "This is about the time when big brown trout come out to hunt, and they'll eat it."
I tied on a much smaller lure, a Trout Magnet minnow in brown trout pattern.
The water took on the White River's characteristic emerald hue when we reached the big island north of Mountain View. We drifted close to the shore and were delighted to see a young bobcat emerge from its den. It glared at us disdainfully as it began its own hunt.
As we drifted past a couple of chairs on the bank, I caught a small cutthroat, and then another. Shortly after, Tucker caught a muscular 17-inch rainbow.
"You're right," Tucker said. "The big one hit my lure, and the little ones are hitting yours."
"Keep on," I said. "You've got a chance to hang a hoss with that thing."
It was not to be. Another storm brewed, and a dense fog formed over the river as darkness fell. For safety's sake, we quit early.
The fishing didn't match that magical day 10 years ago, but after the summer I've had, I will remember it fondly for the fellowship and fun, and for the sunset glow of Tucker's big rainbow at the end of a storm.
Sports on 07/31/2016