Floating the Upper Jacks Fork

Outdoor Revelations Bill Cooper June

2016

On the upper Jacks Fork River wilderness reigns. There are no road overpasses, hordes of humans nor drone of jetboat engines. A few strokes of the paddle and my floating partner, Ron Kruger and I, are swept into the speedy current, away from the simple access at Blue Spring and into a wild, watery world which few people ever experience. The Jacks Fork is a tributary of the much larger Current River. Combined these two rivers form the Ozark National Scenic Riverways, America’s first designated national park for a wild river stream system and the longest protected, free-flowing waterways in the nation. I have lived in the Ozarks for over 40 years and have floated lower sections of the Jacks Fork, which are spectacular. The upper reaches of the river have evaded me for decades. Floatable usually only in early spring, the upper portions of the river lack enough water to float a canoe the rest of the year. The working life, obligations and bad timing had kept me from exploring this most wild and scenic portion of any of our Ozark rivers, until now. Blue Spring emerges from a cave at the base of a bluff almost three miles below Buck Hollow at Highway 17, the usual spring time put-in for the upper river. The spring adds 3 million gallons of some of the purest water in the state to the Jacks Fork’s flow. We silently pushed our kayaks into the current and were immediately swept into a world of natural wonderment. Gin clear water allowed a magical clear view of every rock and living thing on the bottom of the river, which lay three feet below, yet appeared to be at the surface. Towering, multi-colored bluffs and emerald green, deep pools greeted us at every turn. I soon understood why the Jacks Fork is called the Mozart of Ozark streams. It truly is a step above the rest, an amazing wild collection of water, geologic features and plant and animal life. Engulfed in the beauty that surround3ed me, I felt like I had been ushered into my idea of heaven on earth. Less than two miles downstream we entered the Jacks Fork Natural Area, which is accessible only by canoe. The river flows three miles though this designated natural area, known for its extensive and unique biodiversity, which includes over 450 native plant species. We round a curve and flow with the current, now to the south. According to maps, near the south end of the west-facing slope is the little-known Jacks Fork Natural Arch. It is a few hundred feet u a steep, forested hillside hidden from summertime floaters. Most float on by oblivious to its existence. I will visit it this fall or winter, when the leaves are down. A sea of ferns drape the faces of shaded, seep-dampened, dolomite bluffs. My favorite, ebony spleenwort is prolific. Walking ferns and maidenhairs feed the eery, mysterious atmosphere of these hidden places. I fully expect to spot Leprechauns. Rare plants, relics of our last Ice Age, some 12,000 years ago, cling to life here among the cooler north-facing slopes. Glacial relics like the harebell and false bugbane still exist, tucked into their micro-habitats. Kruger photographed the bugbane, to add to his collection of over 500 wildflowers. Every stretch of the upper Jacks Fork is magnificent beyond words. One could spend a lifetime here absorbing the elixir of the wild and scenic that soothes our souls like nothing else. The Creation is exemplified here by its very nature of existence. If only the hurting of the world could experience, the peace, the tranquility, the transcendence of the spirit above body and mind. All exposed to the wonder would leave renewed and inspired. The Jacks Fork continues to reveal itself to us as we drift downstream. A mere three miles from Blue Spring we round the bend and are struck by the magnificent opening of Jam Up Cave. A cathedral-sized archway, an enormous 80x100 feet leaves us spellbound. My imagination runs wild. How many eons did the power of water droplets take to shape this amazing creation? How long is the passage? What lives there? One of the most spectacular cave entrances in the state, Jam Up Cave holds many mysteries. I understand that it is gated far back in the cave to protect breeding bats. Old writings indicate that the cave may be explored in daylight hours back to a lake which is the plunge-basin for falls from the upper section. The upper section may be entered from a sinkhole in Lost Hollow. The Jacks Fork is home to an amazing variety of aquatic life including 67 species of fish, such as smallmouth bass, suckers, long-ear sunfish, goggle-eye, largemouth bass, gar and chain pickerel. Forty of the species are native and six are found nowhere outside the Ozarks: Ozark shiners, Ozark madtoms, checkered madtoms, Current River saddled darters, Ozark chubs and Ozark sculpins. Although Kruger and I love every spectacular aspect of the Jacks Fork, we had smallmouth bass on our minds, too. This section of the river is a designated smallmouth management area by the Missouri Department of Conservation. During the open season on stream bass, from Memorial Day until the end of February, only one smallmouth of 18-inches or better may be kept per day. However, I highly encourage anglers to release these rare fish. An 18-inch smallmouth may be a dozen years old. Few live long enough to reach those proportions. Let them go to thrill another angler and live their lives out in the wilds of the Jacks Fork River. Weather front and dropping water foiled our smallmouth fishing plans, but the prolific long-ear sunfish, or pumpkinseed, kept our flyrods bouncing. All to soon, we reached our take-out at Rhymers Access. We had experienced an incredible day afloat on the Jacks Fork. I’ll be this fall to float the “Jacks Fork Canyon once more.”

Westover Farms Offers Unique Trout Experience

Outdoor Revelations Bill Cooper 6/29/16 Trout fishing opportunities abound in Missouri. Trying some place new is rather easy for the average trout fisherman. Four trout parks, Maramec Spring Park, owned by the James Foundation, Montauk State Park, Bennett Spring State Park and Roaring River State Park all offer put and take trout fishing from March 1 util the end of October. Taneycomo Lake is famous for its trout fishery. Hundreds of thousands of trout are stocked annually in this river-like lake. Fishermen come from all over the world to enjoy the fantastic fishing found there. Not only can anglers find large numbers of trout at Taneycomo, they can also expect to occasionally catch a trophy rainbow as well. And, brown trout grow to behemoth sizes in the food rich waters of Taneycomo Lake. Missouri also sports numerous rivers and streams which are stocked at intervals throughout the year. They are divided into Blue Ribbon, Red Ribbon and White Ribbon streams. Blue Ribbon streams are not stocked. Trout in those streams are wild, reproducing fish, which descended from stockings in the late 1800’s. Red Ribbon streams receive stocking, including brown trout, while White Ribbon streams receive stockings of rainbows various rates throughout the year. Metropolitan area lakes also are stocked throughout the winter months, providing thousands of city anglers with opportunities to trout fish. The public waters mentioned above give Missourians ample opportunities to try their hand at trout fishing. However, there is a wide variety of private trout fishing opportunities available in Missouri as well. I visited Westover Farms, southeast of Steelville, recently. A charming atmosphere welcomes anglers. Reconstructed log homes and German style stone buildings create an aura of elegance found in few trout fishing destinations. Larry Pearcy, an accomplished fly fisherman from Rolla accompanied me to Westover. Pearcy had the honor of fishing while I photographed and videoed his experience. A mile of cold, clear, spring fed water accompanied by well over a mile of Dry Creek waters, gives anglers a variety of opportunities to ply their skills against chunky rainbow trout found there. Pearcy and I met at 7 a.m., hoping to get an early start. As we prepared our equipment for the morning, Westover manager Tom Schlueter stopped by to check on us. “Say, Bill, you guys should hop on the tail gate of my truck,” Tom said excitedly. “ I can haul you way downstream away from the other fishermen. There are a lot of fish stacked in a couple of holes down there. I think you guys will love it.” Pearcy and I laughed and reminisced as the pickup truck bounced across a pasture field bordering Dry Creek. Decades had faded away since either of us had ridden on the tail gate of a pickup truck. We enjoyed the adventure. Tom pulled into neatly mowed pull out and instructed us to follow him down over a grassy bank to the waters edge. “There is a 40 yard stretch here that is heavy with fish,” he said. A hundred yards downstream is another hole the same way. Lots of fish.” Tom took a handful of trout food and cast it across the stream. Dozens of chunky rainbows rolled up to accept the offering. Pearcy and I looked at each other in awe. “This is nice,” he said. “Gonna be sweet,” I replied. “And, I didn’t bring a rod.” Pearcy spent most of his life working for Kelty, a maker of high end packs and tents. He is no stranger to the outdoors and fished in many locations around the world. He also ties his own flies. I anxiously awaited to see what this experienced fly fisherman would tie on to the business end of his fly line. He quickly rigged a tandem setup. A beadhead Hare’s Ear nymph tipped his leader. A duplicate fly adorned his line 18 inches above the first. Pearcy quietly waded into the cold stream. The temperature had climbed steadily. Therefore, Pearcy waded in shorts rather than his usual waders. I watched with great excitement as Pearcy made his first cast. I could sense his anticipation. His first drift went without a hint of a strike. Pearcy used the strength of his 3-weight Sage rod to pick up his fly line and make his second cast upstream. Ten feet into the drift, he lifted his rod high and a heavy arc indicated a good fish was on. The scrappy rainbow raced downstream. Pearcy turned completely around to accommodate the fleeing fish. When he applied a little pressure, the magnificent trout turned and sped upstream as fast as it ha come down. The action looked good on the LED screen of my video camera. The scene played out in my screen. The brightly colored trout shot into the air, writhing like a captured snake. Nymph and fish parted company in mid-air. “Quick release,” Pearcy laughed. The rainbow sped to deeper water as Pearcy regained control of his fly line, checked his nymphs and began his next false cast to roll his flyline and fake bug offerings back upstream to awaiting trout. We’d found the Nirvana of trout fishing fun and there was not another human being in sight. Pearcy hooked a half dozen rainbows before the action began to slow. We explored elsewhere for 30 minutes and returned to the hotspot. We repeated the process a half dozen times and Pearcy caught fish each time. Back at our vehicles, we chugged a bottle of water and began dismantling our gear. Tom stopped by. “Catch any? he queried. Pearcy and I smiled. I winked at Tom. Tom grinned through a tanned face and hurried on his busy way. Westover Farms is the premiere private trout fishing destination in the Ozarks. Check them out at www.westoverfarms.com. If you would like to view Larry Pearcy’s Westover experience, check my website at” www.aoutdoorstv.com, under fishing shows.

Outdoor Revelations Bill Cooper 6/15/16 Bass Fishing in the Rain Some of my most memorable fishing trips have been in the rain. Other memorable trips have been with youngsters. Recently I combined the two for one of the most enjoyable trips I have ever experienced. Eighteen year old Julian Brown and 15-year-old Keegan Finch joined me for a day of bass fishing on a nearby lake. The boys live down the rod from me. The pair of anxious fishermen walked up to my house about 7:30 a.m. It had begun raining softly. We elected to cook a big breakfast of sausage, fried potatoes, eggs and toast and hoped that in the meantime the rain would stop. The big breakfast filled the bill for the energy we would need for the day that lay ahead of us. However, to make sure we survived, the boys made up a batch of sandwiches to take long. Rain pelted down steadily as we pulled out of my driveway. However, everyone’s spirits were high. We were determined to go fishing. As we broke into view of the remote lake, the chattered excitedly about the prospects of catching lots of fish fro the beautiful 10acre lake that lay before them. Julian and Keegan are both originally from Texas and hd not had the opportunity to do a lot of fishing. They were in for the thrill of their lives. I had fished the lake numerous times and knew that it was full of largemouth bass, which usually eager to hit a lure. We rigged three rods each, with a different lure on each. We could readily fish the top, middle and bottom of the water columns. Keegan and I teemed up in a canoe. Julian sailed alone in a kayak. I was still rigging rods when Julian took off paddling parallel to the dam of the lake. He intended to catch the first fish. I rigged one of Keegan’s rods with a Fluke, which he hd not fished previously. I made one cast along the shoreline, before we shoved off, to demonstrate to him how to fish the Fluke. A Fluke is a minnow shaped piece of plastic, which sinks slowly and when twitched slightly, darts to and fro like dying minnow. They are deadly. Keegan gasped with disbelief as respectable bass rolled up on my first cast. I missed the strike. We shoved the canoe off of the bank. Rain continued to pepper down. I paddled to put Keegan into perfect casting position. I explained that he needed to cast the weedless Fluke as close to the shoreline as possible, right into the tangles of weeds and brush. He kept casting his lure about two feet short of the target. I instructed him to watch my cast. The Fluke landed six inches from the shore amidst a clump of sedge grasses. I twitched the Fluke one time and let it sink. My rod arched and I set the hook. The scrappy bass managed to throw the hook. Keegan and I laughed and moved on. When we caught up with Julian, he had not had strike. He asked what we were throwing, but Keegan was reluctant to tell. I told Keegan we were going to paddle on across the face of the dam to quickly get to the east bank. I had caught a lot of bass there the week previous. I pointed out a break in the shoreline vegetation and told him to cast his bait into that spot. Keegan made a perfect cast. The water erupted and he had his first bass of the day hooked. He yelled at Julian to watch. The fish came off. “There’s plenty more” I instructed. A few casts later, Keegan was hooked up again. He lost that fish, too. On my next cast, I hooked one and managed to land it. The action was heating up, so Julian paddle over to join in on the fun. What occurred over the next three hours proved nothing less than phenomenal. The rain continued and apparently put the fish into a feeding frenzy. We continued down the east bank, catching fish at a steady pace. As we approached the north end of the lake, hook-ups increased dramatically. One of us had a fish on almost constantly. A small creek enters the lake at the north end. Previous rains hd brought the lake up a bit and grassy flats were covered in water. New food constantly poured into the lake from the run off. Bass had stacked on the grass flats to intercept the new food sources entering the lake. The boys laughed and goaded one another as, bass, after bass after bass fell to their flukes. “This is so much fun,” they both kept repeating. Fun indeed. Even as many thousands of bass I had caught in my lifetime, few times had I ever seen bass that active. Then with the thrills the boys were enjoying, the day quickly became one of the most memorable trips of my life. I tied on a topwater Sammy lure. I hooked good bass on my very first cast. The boys switched, too. Topwater fishing is as fun as it gets and Keegan and Julian received a baptism extraordinaire. As a dark cloud approached from the south, I indicated that we needed to get off the lake. Their moans sounded like thunder rumbling. I explained that we had boated well over 150 bass and had hooked and lost many ore than that. We had, in fact, enjoyed a day of bass fishing like few people have ever enjoyed. Half way across the lake, the rain came down in sheets. We looked like a trio of drowned rats by the time we reached the truck. We kept just enough fish for a fish fry. The boys helped clean the catch and I soon had filets bubbling in hot oil. My only regret. I wish I’d had a recorder on to capture the tails those two told during dinner. I’m sure they will tell their grandchildren about the day they caught a 150 bass in the rain.