What is lowlier to a master trout fisherman than those
almost tame and nearly worthless hatchery raised stocked
trout? I would guess perhaps, those inexperienced people
who fish for them. I count myself among those
inexperienced fishermen. Allow me to explain myself
and my love of these fish.
I consider myself a fly fisherman and tied my first flies from
an old stuffed parrot, which my father dragged home from a
rummage sale, when I was about 12. I just took a couple
of those green feathers and tied them around a hook with
thread, sort of like I had read about in Sports Afield.
We must have had some of the dumbest bluegills in Iowa,
because they would hit those ugly flies tied onto 10lb line
and cast from a Zebco 202. I really do remember that
summer well, but that ended my fly fishing experience for
about the next 30 years.
I was a die hard fisherman for all of that time but wasn’t
terribly interested in fly fishing until I picked up a Berkley
Cherrywood fly rod on sale and thought it might be fun to
try it again. I bought a few poppers and spiders and caught
pan fish and bass off and on for several years, but that was
about it. I never really thought about trout fishing much,
mainly because there aren’t any trout in Southern Iowa. I
do remember catching my first rainbow trout in 1982 down
at Lake Tanycomo in Missouri. I caught it and about a
hundred more just like I caught catfish, on a spinning rod
with a slip sinker and a little hook with either worms or whole
kernel corn as bait. I had fun but really wasn’t very impressed.
Now let’s fast forward to the year 2000, when my wife and
I bought our first real camper. We bought a 26 foot Trail Lite
in January because it was a great deal at that time of year, but
now we had to find a place for a vacation in April, while my wife,
a college teacher, was on spring break. She wanted to go some
where south of Iowa and warm. Her father had told me several
years before about a crazy place where they blew a whistle and
every one splashed into a stream to fish for trout. A little internet
research later and I found that wonderful place called Bennett Springs,
a trout park in southern Missouri. The more I read the more this
place sounded like a hoot. After convincing the wife that we should
stop there for a day or two on our way to Geers Ferry Lake in
Arkansas, I started collecting gear and information to try to catch
those wascally trouts. I ordered a Three Forks 8 foot 5wt fly rod
combo from Cabela’s, along with a few flies, whose names I had
never heard of, and a really cheap pair of hip boots.
We arrived there in the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday,
after a six plus hour drive from Iowa. For those who have never
been there on a spring Saturday you just can’t imagine how
crowded it was and we wondered if this was a really big mistake.
After we set up camp, we drove around the park and just watched
the show. There were people all over the stream catching fish, and
people dragging two or three fish around on a stringer, and every
one seemed to be having fun. I couldn’t believe it, the water was
so clear and fish were cruising every where. I bought a license
and tag at the store and when I asked what to fish with the young
man there sold me a couple each of #14 Renegades and #12
Cracklebacks, and told me to see which worked best and then I
could get more. I watched a guy catch several rainbows just
above the stone bridge and asked a few questions so that maybe
I wouldn’t look like a complete fool the next day.
Sunday morning I missed the whistle spectacle, but was soon
standing on the jetty just above the damn. I managed a so so
cast with a Crackleback into the big pool there. The fly was
small and I lost sight of it as it drifted toward the damn. I turned
to watch a guy land a fish and all of a sudden, WHAM! On my
first cast a viscous 10 inch rainbow hammered that fly on the
surface at about 9:30 in the morning, something which I learned
much later was pretty unusual. Both that little rainbow and I were
hooked! Over the next hour I managed to catch two more fish and
loose all 4 of the flies that I had bought at the store. I moved down
to the spot just above the stone bridge where I had watched the
fisherman Saturday afternoon. I tied on a bead head red squirrel
nymph that I had gotten from Cabela’s and a float like the other guy
had and caught another 6 trout. I thought “this place is great.” That
afternoon I grilled the limit of trout in foil over a campfire and we
thought they were fantastic.
Since we intended to go farther south, we packed up the next morning
and headed for Arkansas. Here I just have to say HWY 65 south from
Branson, must be one of the, if not THE, worst curvy bendy hilly
highway in the country. I don’t think there was much more than a
quarter mile section that wasn’t up or down hill with sharp bends
and cutbacks, and with semis trying to pass me, while I was towing
the camper. After several hours of this punishment we arrived at
Geers Ferry Lake and the Little Red River that runs below the
damn. My wife took one look at that damn, from the bottom
campgrounds and said “I am NOT camping below that huge dam
and that lake up there.” So after a little discussion, we turned
around and retraced out torturous route back up HWY 65 and
back to our same camp site at Bennett Springs, just as if we had
never left at all. It turns out, that that was a very good decision!
We spent the rest of our vacation there and have made from 2 to
5 trips back every year since.
Ok, so much for background. Now let’s move on to why I enjoy
those stocked trout and the trout parks of Missouri so much. The
Park itself is very nice and well cared for and a nice break for us,
especially in the spring time, after a nasty Iowa winter. The second
thing is that the stream is absolutely full of trout. There are so many
fish that even a complete novice, like myself, can be successful with
several different flies and techniques. This gives me the chance to
experiment with things like dry flies, nymphs, swinging wet flies,
stripping Cracklebacks, even drifting mini-jigs or the hated glow
balls, to see which method I enjoy most. I read a lot in magazines
and on the internet about fly fishing and this is my well stocked lab,
and I have learned a lot over the last 8 years. Even though many
fly fishermen on the stream aren’t very talkative, I can usually find
one who is and who will answer questions and share information
with me.
These stocked trout have shown me how to drift a mostly drag-free #22
cream midge or Renegade to fish that I can see and interpret their reaction,
or lack of, to the fly. When I see them begin to rise as the fly approaches,
my heart begins to beat harder and I start to hold my breath. I am thrilled
if that trout continues upward and inhales that fly, and I am disappointed
if that fish thumbs its nose at my fly and retreats to its feeding zone. I
pickup the fly, false cast to dry it and make another hopefully better
presentation to the same fish, which I can still see and try it all again.
These trout have also given me a reason to learn to tie a better #22
cream midge, and great satisfaction when they finally do slurp it in
instead of the natural floating in the same seam. They have taught me
what a seam even is, how to fish it, and with what. They have shown
me how to consistently catch them in 12 inches of water flowing through
a riffle that is clearer than my tap water, or in 8 feet of dark green water
above the damn, or in 3 feet of fast muddy water in the hatchery outlet
creek. They have made me learn what fly, or mini-jig, or what color
glow ball to use in any of those situations, and have taught me to love
the lessons.
All of these things have contributed to my feelings about these near
worthless hatchery stocked trout, but allow me to tell you about the
primary reason that I love these wonderful stocked trout. They
allow my wife to catch them! She used to fish with me years ago
when we were young but not now that we are approaching our 60s.
During our second year of traveling to Bennett Springs she decided
that maybe she would like to try trout fishing. I bought her a new
ultra-lite spinning outfit for her birthday, and during our next trip
down we spent almost a whole afternoon at the Park Store there
picking out a set of breathable waders and wading boots. The poor
young man who was trying to help us deserved a medal for his efforts
and good humor that day. You have to understand that my wife and
I are both over weight and she wasn’t about to look like a sausage
stuffed into a pair of neoprene waders, so she had to try on several
different brands of breathables and at least 2 sizes of each before
settling on just the right pair. I will remember that fun for a long
long time.
Two mornings later she decided that we should both go down for
the morning whistle. We marched down to the beach just above
the big stone bridge and stood in the water waiting for the whistle.
I remember well, I had rigged her with a tri-colored glow ball with
a float about 2 feet above it, and had shown her how to cast and
let it drift down stream a little before casting again. I stood just
upstream a little to help give her some room from all the other
fishermen. The whistle blew and every one cast at the same time.
I was working some line off of my fly reel when I hear her laugh
and say “I think I’ve got one.” Well I net if for her and unhook it,
and start to put it on a stringer, because we planned to eat fish for
supper. Next thing I know, even before I can get that fish on the
stringer, I hear “Wow I’ve got another.” So now I have two trout
in the same net and am trying to get them strung and again I hear
laughter and look up to see her reeling in about a 15 inch rainbow
and smiling like she had just been visited by Jesus and the whistle
was still blowing! God bless those hatchery trout!
We have had several more memorable experiences on that
stream and at each of the other Missouri trout parks, including
the day she got too brave wading around watching the trout
swarming around her feet, and slipped and took a dunking.
I had no idea that waders could hold that much water, and
of course there was no wading belt, because “I don’t look
good in belts!” The point is that hatchery raised stocked trout
have already supplied enough wonderful memories to carry us
both over the next twenty or so years to end of our earthly lives.
To date, I have caught exactly 4 very small “maybe” wild trout
from the fabled Bear Trap canyon region of the Madison River
in Montana, and literally hundreds of stocked trout in Missouri
and North East Iowa, and a couple in Minnesota. As a result, I
can say with out all the stocked trout, I would have six trout to my
credit and wouldn’t even know how eat them, much less catch them.
For all the extremely lucky fishermen who live where abundant wild
trout are the norm, please say thanks. For those of us who must
travel several hundred miles to even have the chance to catch
“stockers,” we are grateful to the hatcheries that supply them
for us, but I’ll bet I can teach some of you Montana boys a few
things about catching two pound bluegills and six pound catfish
from a farm pond on a 3wt fly rod, mostly because of lessons
learned from hatchery stocked trout. ~ Dave
Originally published July 06, 2008 on Fly Anglers Online by Dave.