It's worth the effort | The Arkansas Democrat-Gazette

Why the rush? Stay calm. The fish are staying here.

Here's how this mid-summer fishing trip works: If you have to travel far, forget about that all-important morning bite. It won't last long enough to justify getting up at 4 a.m. and then baking in the sun for the rest of the day.

Sleep in. Relax. Enjoy the ride. Rock out to some good music. Treat yourself to a good lunch. These trips are all about the last 4-5 hours of daylight. Think that's not long enough to justify a four or five hour round trip? Quite the opposite!

This scenario occurred to me on Thursday when I had all day to fish. I was eager to fish for smallmouth bass in Crooked Creek. More specifically, I wanted to fish a hole in Crooked Creek where I had encountered a lot of big smallmouth bass at dusk two years ago.

When we go fishing in the Ozarks with friends, we like to leave Little Rock around 7 a.m. and be on the water by 11 a.m. or noon. That way, we bake in the sun all day and don't catch fish until the last two hours of daylight.

On Thursday I slept in, had a good breakfast and got my work done. I left the house around noon and was at the Mark Oliver Access near Yellville by 3pm. It was about 34 degrees but the worst of the heat was over by the time I got to the launch pad.

A recent flood deposited a huge gravel bank at the ramp. It also cut a new channel on the opposite side of the gravel bank, about 40 yards from the ramp. A tiny, shallow cove now connects the ramp to the creek. As more gravel fills this cove, the ramp will become landlocked.

I loaded my gear into my Old Town Appalachian canoe with the intention of wading a mile or two upstream. This allows me to methodically fish each foot of water and cast from all angles. My plan was to work thoroughly with a surface lure. If a fish bites and doesn't bite, I would follow up with a soft plastic lure. The tactic is only effective from a stationary position. If you drift, you'll be out of the strike zone before you can cast the second lure.

Above the new channel is a deep hole at the mouth of a creek. I bypassed this body of water to fish there at dusk. At the top of this hole is a narrow channel bordered by a water willow on one side and a willow screen on the other. I had to pull my canoe through the channel, which required me to break through the screen. I made sure there were no water moccasins loitering in the branches and checked the water willow for snakes. I was not thrilled to have to go through this again in the dark.

While fishing the Buffalo River last week, I came across a banded water snake sitting on a boulder, eating a chestnut lamprey. Next to the tick and the grass mite, the lamprey is perhaps the most hideous and worthless creature in Arkansas. I was thrilled with my whole heart. I hoped my positive attitude would continue on my drive back through the canyon.

I waded through the next hole as well. It is very shallow and offers no protection for large smallmouth bass. The hole beyond is very deep and is close to a cliff. There should be big fish there, but in all the years I have fished there I have only caught small ones. That streak continued on Thursday with my first fish, a 10″ smallmouth bass that took a 4″ Zoom Mini Lizard.

That's a beginner fish for a smallmouth bass angler. It amazes me that people keep and eat them at that size. Duane Hada, the state's leading smallmouth bass angler, a noted wildlife artist, conservationist and member of the Arkansas Outdoor Hall of Fame, gave the commission a detailed briefing on this phenomenon on Wednesday during the commission's monthly committee meetings. His talk inspired me to make this trip. There are 18- to 21-inch smallmouth bass in the creek, but Hada said they are dwindling because meat fishermen are taking so many of them.

The hole above the cliff is where things got interesting. It's long, straight and shallow, but has a big kelp border along the right bank and a lot of woody growth on the left bank. Fish should be on the left bank or behind big rocks in the middle, but they weren't. All the bites I got were on the right, in very shallow water on mud banks or off the kelp border. I didn't get any bites under the trees or on the woody growth.

I had traveled upstream and spent every minute wading with the canoe attached to a belt loop. The water was mostly waist to belly deep, occasionally chest deep. It was also very warm, so there was little respite from the hot atmosphere.

As I reached the long kelp hole, the sun began to sink behind the mountain peaks. That's when the fish started to bite. A few small fish bit on my Whopper Plopper, but they either missed it or were too small to get a solid bite. When that happened, I pulled up the canoe and got a second rod with a Tiny Lizard. My follow-up casts were ignored.

I cast my line onto a mud bank and caught the first good fish of the day, a 14″ fish. Further ahead two big fish took the bait but missed.

“How?” I asked loudly, exasperated. How can a fish knock a treble hooked lure into the bottom without staying on the hook? Put the same lure near a piece of clothing, a life jacket, or anything made of nylon fabric, and it's guaranteed to bite.

The second good fish was taken at the intersection of a mud bank and a seaweed mat. It was 40cm long and pulled like a John Deere tractor in granny low mode.

The sun was setting fast at the top of the next hole, while a three quarter moon was rising over the hills opposite. I thought I would be returning to the ramp in the dark if I turned around immediately.

There were many beautiful things to photograph and I tried. However, my camera reported that my SD card was damaged. Strangely, it was working perfectly three days ago.

The Old Town Appalachian is a very rickety canoe, especially with no weight and one person at the stern. However, if you sit backwards in the bow seat, it handles like a dream. I skidded over gravel under inches of water without scraping and headed back to my big fishing hole. I didn't get another bite.

Although the sun had set, the moon cast a bright white light, making it easy to see. When I reached the narrow channel, I used my paddle to fight my way through the water, strainer and weeds before wading through. I continued to wade back to the ramp.

And all that for five fish? It was worth it.