Beaver And The Big Brown

Have you ever had one of those moments where you did something  awesome, something that put you on cloud nine, something you have always wanted to accomplish…and then followed it up, quickly, with one of those stupid, long lasting events that won’t soon vacate your memory? I reckon that we are all one of two kinds of people, either you have had this happen or you won’t admit to it. Let’s back up for just a minute.

Thursday, July 7^th found me up early, no surprise, and off to a new fishing area. For, you see, we were in Branson and I was there specifically to fish Taneycomo; however, the officials at Southwest Power didn’t care about me wanting to wade and fish their lake, they were more concerned with supplying power, air conditioning to their customers…kind of selfish on their part, but the generation must go on and so…that means I had to search out new water, or sit at the campground, new water it was. I left the campground at 5am sharp, knowing it was going to be about an hour to Beaver Lake, located just southwest of the Arkansas town of Eureka Springs. The drive through the countryside, more specifically the Ozarks, was exquisite and I truly love seeing new territory. I pulled into the parking lot at Beaver around 6:15am and by 6:30 I was wading and casting, two things I sure do love. I wasn’t familiar with the area and immediately something jumped out at me, there was NO moving water. The tailwater section below Beaver becomes a lake, a very cold water lake, but a lake….no river. When they generate electricity then water is released from the bottom of the lake and this cold, clear water turns the turbines and electricity is produced.

I tried several things, wooly buggers, bitch creek nymphs and nothing, a couple of tugs, but no strikes. While doing this several folks pulled up and put in their kayaks and then it occurred to me…why don’t I use my float tube; so I made my way up the parking lot, grabbed the ole’ Creek Company ODC 420 and ker-plopped myself into the water. I had my 6 weight rod and heaviest sinking line to aide in getting my fly down quickly and pushed off keeping the bank to my left side.

I kicked backwards and fished and kicked some more and in a few minutes I was sitting within a couple hundred yards of a massive dam. It was quite daunting to look up at this beast and imagine the force with which water must come out when the flood gates at the top are opened up. I snapped a few photos, replaced my camera to its spot and changed sides of the lake. It was at this point that I heard a splash nearby and quickly made a cast in the area, strip, strip and bang, I had hooked up with a bass, not just a bass, but a spotted bass of about 13 inches, this one I might add, had been eating too many seconds and had a big gut. I admired the fish and turned it loose…decided to change from a brown wooly to a chartreuse and very bright streamer that I had done well with on smallmouth bass this spring.

I was fishing a rocky, rugged area with giant pre-historic boulders laying anywhere from a few feet, to 15 feet under the surface. The chartreuse was the right choice because you could clearly see the fly a long ways down and I knew that if there were any big fish they would have to be attracted to it. I made a nice cast between two of these large, underwater boulders and waited a moment for the line to sink, gave a couple strips…and it was at that point that my heart stopped; I saw a big figure jet out and slam my fly. I instinctively strip set the fly and I was hooked up…but with what, what could be that big? I actually thought it might be a big carp at first, then my prize turned sideways and in the clear water I could see the shape of a very large Brown Trout. If you are not a trout fisherman…then what follows may be wasted, but a fish of this size is a prize and I quickly got the fish on my reel and even made a slight adjustment to the drag as the big boy pulled hard on my system. I was in a quandary, would my 3x tippet hold, were my knots good, etc… I readied my net and after a fight of about 2 minutes I slipped the net under and had captured my prize in my large stream net! It was a beautiful sight and the fish was a brilliant mixture of brown, copper, red and yellow.

What now…I knew I needed to get the hook out and also wanted desperately to get a photo of the fish. I started kicking backwards across the hundred yards of water in hopes of asking one of the bank fisherman to snap a photo and in the process was trying diligently to get the hook and line out of the teeth of this big fish…and it was at this point that in trying to do too much and keep the fish alive I let my guard down; I had my rod under my right arm, net in my lap, handle in my left hand, and hemostats in my right hand…when it happened, he made one great Louganis flop and hopped out of my net, into the water and immediately snapped my tippet. I stopped kicking as no one in the lake had seen my disaster; the fog was so heavy that you could only see 25 yards. Yes, this was my moment that is still bothering me as I write this several hours later. Once again…it is better to have loved and lost then to never have loved at all. I will do things a little different next time…and there will be a next time! I hope that you can laugh at yourself at these unfortunate times and remember that we still get to Enjoy the Great Outdoors.