Fly Fishing the White River, Arkansas

Just got home from a super trip fly fishing the White River, Arkansas.  After last years trip in April my buddy and I planned a return this May.  However, the rona thing casued us to phostphone until May.

The caddis hatch was on the down side but we found some rainbow, cutthrout and brown trout willing to eat dry flies but the nymph bite was great all day.  My buddy brought his hog island, which was nice since we only had low flows until about 2 pm each day.

The Corps of Engineers would bump the flows up to about 4 or 5 units each afternoon.  This provided a chance to throw streamers.  Althought, we would have rather had the lower flows and nymphed...but you take what you can get.  Trust me we were super happy to be fly fishing the White River and not a complaint was heard. 

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Check out the two videos below to seehow great th fishing was, inspite of it being at the end of the caddis bite.  We'll be back up next year, but probably a few times before that also.

Part 1

Part 2

White River Caddis Hatch May 2019

April is always a good time to fly fish in Arkansas.  The streams are usually full of water, not always a good thing, and the fish are normally hungry.  The most difficult decision normally focuses on where and what species to target.  Trout, carp, smallmouth bass are all high on my list.  However, last May, my buddy Brad came home after incredible day fishing the caddis hatch on the White River and said we would be returning in 2019.  The plan was to drive up on Tuesday and fish through Sunday, with a couple days on the White, Norfork and maybe a smallmouth float.

The weather began to take an ugly shape and the plan quickly changed.  The area was predicted to receive 5+ inches of rain over the next three to four days with the possibility of severe thunderstorms. As responsible adults, one of us anyway, we looked at moving the date.  But that wasn't an option.  Next we considered heading to Southeast Louisiana or even The Great Smoky Mountains.  But the weather system included each of those areas as well.  After talking about it, we decided to stay with the original plan but stick to the tailwaters because they would not blow out.

Tying video for this caddis pupa below

As luck would have it the rain and storms hit the area as predicted but we only had to fish in the rain one afternoon.  Fortune was on our side and the severe storms came at night while we were in our sleeper cabin at http://copperjohnsresort.com/  If you're in the area and need a place to sleep without paying a fortune, Copper Johns is pretty awesome.  Located just down the road from the state park and directly on the river, it gave us a quick place to dodge storms if needed.

Rigging up the streamer rod

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If you haven't seen the many Instagram and guide posts the hatch was brilliant this year.  Check out my buddy Matt's guide service and see what I'm talking about, https://www.facebook.com/risingriverguides/.  Tons of bugs on the water and the fish were eating great.  We fished dry flies each day with some success, but with all the natural sources of protein available on the surface, it was only a fun option, not the most successful.  But I will take a couple 20+ inch browns on a EHC over several nymphed up most days!

On Friday and Saturday we decided to float the Norfork.  The generation schedule predicted 1-unit each morning starting around 9am. The fishing was equally great.  One-unit is awesome flow for nymphing and streamer fishing which we did and got a few follows from some gnarly browns.  I suspect if the rental boat hatch wasn't out in full force on Saturday atleast one of the big browns would have eaten a streamer.  But when 4 dudes, throwing rapalas constantly to cut into your drift, it can be a challenge to get a fresh look!  We won't be fishing the Norfork on a Saturday any time soon, lol!  The rental hatch cleared at lunch the fishing got good for the rest of the afternoon.

We got up early Sunday with plans to pack and drive home.  One look at the river and we changed our mind.  It looked like it was raining with all the fish coming to the surface to eat caddis.  So we hit the water for a few more hours, caught some fish and planned next years trip.  Gonna be a long wait...

Tying video for this productive pattern...

White River "Streamer Arm" (w/ Video)

Radial Neuropathy is the “acute trauma to the radial nerve that extends the length of the arm.”  Some common symptoms include, “numbness (back of the hand and wrist), and inability to voluntarily straighten the fingers.  Loss of wrist extension is due to loss of the ability to move of the posterior compartment of forearm muscles.”  In the college scene, it's better known as Drunk Arm.  It’s the result of binge drinking to the point of passing out on your arm and damaging the nerve.  In the fly fishing world it’s simply known as, Streamer Arm.  

While I have never experienced drunk arm, I can assert that 40 hours of rowing and slinging 8-10 inch streamers is traumatic to the casting arm.  Imagine if Miami Marlins RF Giancarlo Stanton used your arm for a bat in the Home Run Derby and you’re getting close to the feeling.   

High Water and fast flows

How do you know if you’re suffering from streamer arm?  Aside from the more recognizable symptoms such as, regularly blaming your poor casting on your throbbing elbow, debating the use of a woolly bugger as a streamer and the constant smell of Icy Hot in the boat.  There are some lesser known signs to look for, like wondering if you can overdose on Ibuprofen. 

Also, if you're camping in an area that’s under a tornado watch and the sound of a C-130 landing on your head wakes you up.  The idea of using your cell phone to check the weather seems logical but the action involves using your arm.  Instead, you take another Ibuprofen.    

Lunch

If you’re still not sure.  A conversation I had with my wife when I got home might help.  Wife, “Did y’all sleep any this weekend?  You look terrible.  What’s wrong with your right eye?  I think you have Pink Eye.  Gross, you have a bug in it.”  Me, "Oh yeah, I remember it flying in there Saturday night but my arm hurt too much to dig it out.  Can you open the Ibuprofen bottle for me?" 

And why do we do it?  When you see a 25-27-inch brown tracking your fly back to the boat, you’ll understand?  It’s worth every painful minute.  Can’t wait to get back to the White River and suffer again!

40 on the White River

It’s a wonder I have any friends at all.  The kind that take off work for two days for your 40^th birthday.  Those that know you well enough to understand that the party should be a fishing trip and nothing more.  Real friends who accept I’m not a birthday party guy or into social gatherings.  Let me explain why I’m amazed by all of this.

Sunday night, I was talking to my wife about a trip to Grand Isle, LA over the past weekend and how the fishing was decent and so on.  As expected, she was only mildly interested.  Her slight interest was mostly because her uncle and cousin were there fishing with me.  The last thing mentioned was how I needed to call my buddy and deliver some bad news.  She perked right up, “What happened?”

Her attention really caught me off guard.  The zombie from two minutes earlier was now all ears and super captivated.  Taking advantage of my newly acquired audience, I spun a great tale of a freakishly huge redfish and the ultimate sacrifice made by my friend’s 9 weight.  All she heard was, “you borrowed his rod and broke it?”  As I’m struggling to understand her concern and attempting to form a sentence, she interrupts me.  But not with the usual “you broke another fly rod” speech.  

Instead, I learned that the guy who owned the 9 weight had been planning my 40^th birthday party for two months.  He’s been busy getting his boat ready and tying big streamers for a month.  And we’re leaving in less than a week.  Yep, I’m that guy!  Now you’re amazed I have any friends, right?

Fortunately, and unfortunately, we didn’t get the flows that are typical for late January on the White.   We had minimum flows on the White and the Norfork ran one unit for three hours on Monday.  The big sticks weren’t needed much but that had little impact on our decision to throw streamers.  We had traveled here to throw meat and that was what we were going to do.  Generation was more of a nicety at this point, but we did have a secret weapon; Angela Merkel.  Sometimes it’s not what you know, it’s who you know.   

We fished the White on Sunday and it rained all day.  Angela initially took her place beside the rear bench directly below my position on the Hog Island.  She hated the rain but loved my fly line.  Like a cat with a ball of string she grabbed it often.  Wasn’t long before Angela was moved to the back of the boat.  At the first shoal, Karma rewarded my buddy with a 22-inch brown.  Unfortunately, that was the only good karma of the day.   It was late afternoon when our sore arms demanded we drift indicators and stick a few fish.  A decision we would later regret.

My opinion of the water depth was, it was too deep to exit the boat.  Someone else, whose identity will remain a secret, saw it differently.  As, his name isn't Brad, departed the boat in what can only be described as a wet exit, we knew Angela was responsible.  About an hour later, while trying to free his midge from a rock, the dude with the broken 9 weight, broke his 4 weight.  Sunday was a tough day for us.  The only sighting of a 30-inch brown was hanging on the wall of a local burger joint, Taylor’s Freeze-King in Gassville, AR.  It became very obvious Angela wasn’t impressed with our group later that night.  While unloading gear, I stepped in cat poop and tracked it into our room. 

Monday, we headed out early to chase the limited high water on the Norfork.  Not wanting a repeat of the prior day, we relocated Angela several times before she found a spot she liked.  In the beginning, she perched on the right oar.  When the anchor line broke sending the anchor to the bottom of the river, we took the hint and started moving her on a regular basis.  She seemed pleased with the attention and in return kept the remainder of trip out of the ditch.     

Bag of rocks is a good substitute for an anchor

The birthday ended at the confluence of the White river sharing fish stories and planning several future trips.  In that last hour of daylight, we worked out all the logistics and the world seemed to agree with our lofty endeavors.  It became clear that this trip was less about the pursuit and more about friendship.  Tomorrow we’ll deploy our secret weapon, Angela Merkel, in hopes of trying to secure permission from our better halves.