I recently moved to Missouri and have been fishing streams in the state every season since fall 2004. After reading about the Blue Ribbon management area of the North Fork, I knew I had to give it a try. A quick search on the internet put me in touch with Myron McKee at the River of Life Farm, located on the banks of the river about midway through the Blue Ribbon area. I booked three nights and took off.
I met Myron at ROLF. He was quick to make sure he understood what sort of fishing experience I was after. We arranged for canoes and portage for the next couple of days. I set up camp in the Fisherman’s Room and spent the next few hours wading the area in front of the farm and getting to know the river.
The next day I met Myron just after sunrise and we headed for the river. In one of life’s rare pleasures, I fished an early October day from sunup to sundown. Although air temps would reach into the mid eighties by midday, a solid and growing cloud cover seemed to keep the fish active. I reached for my favorite Missouri fly-- a #8 mohair leech and casted into knee-deep riffles and deeper runs.
Action begain immediately and lasted nearly all day. I casted nothing but mohair leeches, with a dead-drift working better than stripping. Solids and combinations of the classic colors of olive, tan and black all seemed to work on this day. Fish were lying in the quicker runs, and although it felt like a summer day many fish were in knee-deep water. By the end of the day, I had landed over fifteen rainbows and a brown.
After fishing for years in the mountain streams of the southern Appalachians, what amazed me was that only two fish were less than twelve inches. These were stout, proud, Ozark wild trout. They hit with a SLAM! and dove deep. I’ve been fishing long enough to know that these were rare days, and I savored every moment. It felt too good to last, and it was.
The next day I nearly was skunked. I tried mohairs. I tried prince nymphs. I tried stone fly nymphs and helgramites. I tried odd transplants from the Appalachians with names like Tellico and Yallerhammer. Nothing worked. I had spent one night feeling pretty good about my fishing skills and the next day was back to second-guessing streamers or nymphs, tan or olive, Prince or Pheasant Tails, 3X or 5X, and Coke or Pepsi.
Ending a trip on humbling experience like that always makes you look forward to the next trip. In the last few days I’ve caught myself thinking through the logistics of a mid-winter float with fish lying deep and the sun staying low. I think we can find time for that. |
