I was back-paddling and reeling as quickly as I could.
We’d been drifting along on the White River with our fishing lines out. I was using a small blue and white spoon with a single treble hook. Just as I had hooked my first fish, the trophy area sign had come into view.
The rules change in a trophy-only area, and only a single hook can be used. I normally don’t use a treble hook but had one on and wasn’t sure if it was within the regulations. I made sure that I got the rainbow trout into the boat and unhooked way before reaching the sign.
Steve Langford and his son Rusty, my brother-in-law Max and my nephew Eli, Ron Vocelka and his son Cooper and I had just finished a day on the Buffalo River and had moved to the White River for today. We’d packed up the tents and hammocks and transferred to Steve’s cabin at the dam near Eureka Springs, Ark.
On our way to launch the boat we had to make a stop at the Beaver Dam Store. In addition to a few supplies, we needed to check their fishing tips message board and stock up on any of those “hot lures” that we’d failed to bring.
Lisa, a fishing guide for the store, suggested several flies and warned us that the water was very high and that we should fish as far back in the trees as possible. She also suggested the blue and white spoon. I bought two but failed to notice those treble hooks.
As we arrived at the water and walked down the ramp, we could see that the water was almost to the handicapped parking lot and that none of the gravel banks remained. After the gear was loaded into the boats, Cooper and Ron’s into their Mad River, Steve and Rusty’s in one of Steve’s big Blue Hole canoes and Max and Eli’s in the other and mine packed into my Mohawk solo boat, we started down the river.
We’d planned to travel only a short distance that day to allow plenty of time for fishing.
However, just as we paddled away from the parking lot, the first horn sounded, announcing the opening of a gate at the dam. The water began to rise even higher almost immediately. We’d known that the fishing was going to be tricky in the high and fast water, but it was getting worse.
Following my first cast, the second horn sounded as even more water was released from the dam. At least there wouldn’t be much of a need for paddling today.
We spread out across the stream and began our drifts with our fishing lines out, slowing and correcting the boats as we could. We were hooking fish but they weren’t staying on long enough to make it back to the boat. The submerged trees occasionally snagged a lure, causing us to lose a few.
We’d planned a lunch break at the river access at Parker Bend. With the water this high it was one of the few opportunities we’d have for an easy stop. The long concrete walkway that can normally be seen sweeping way out into the water was almost completely submerged. Only a few feet of its rock wall were visible. We swung the boats into what was left of the protected area created by what was left of the walled walkway.
We’d had no luck with Lisa’s suggestion of fishing deep in the trees, and although we had hooked a few fish while trolling, it wasn’t a banner day for the White River.
Once back at Steve’s cabin we lounged around, some inside watching television, others parked around the grill watching the burgers cook and talking about the day.
Landing a few more fish would have been nice, however; with perfect weather and easy paddling, we couldn’t complain for long. Soon we began to plan for a return trip later in the year, once the water drops and the gravel bars and riffles return.
Address correspondence to Silas Gray at ifish@silasgray.com.
