I Love It When A Plan Comes Together...

Once in a while, the planets, The Army Corps of Engineers, and the Weather Man get together and allow a fishing trip to be successful.  If there is one thing I have learned from years of planning fishing trips: the more you plan, tweak your plan, and anticipate every aspect of your plan, the faster you set yourself up for disappointment. 
This trip, however, was a spur-of-the-moment affair.  Randy, my friend from Wisconsin, was traveling south to visit relatives in Texas, and asked if I'd like to meet in Arkansas for a couple days fishing.  Of course, I was more than happy to accommodate him as my teaching semester had just ended.  What transpired, was an epic two-day trip where we caught more big browns and rainbows than you would believe. 
Randy is a fantastic fly-fisherman and guides in the UP.  We met three years ago at Montana State University in Bozeman.  We were there to defend our Master's theses.  By coincidence, he attended my defense where it was mentioned in my introduction that I had "fly-fished from Mississippi to Montana and was going to fly-fish my way back home." 
While Randy and I were in Bozeman we spent a few days fishing the Gallatin and some of the spring creeks in the area and formed what has turned out to be a lasting friendship.  For you who have followed me, you will remember this as part of TTFFT #1 (Tailwater Tribe Fly Fishing Tour #1), an unbelievable adventure that allowed me to fish many of the rivers out west that I had often read about, but had never fished.  I had fished the Gallatin in the park and below Taylor Fork, but Randy's expertise of the Gallatin above Taylor Fork proved to be invaluable to me.
As I consider Arkansas my "Home Waters" it was my turn to reciprocate by putting Randy onto some fish.  Our trip started with a rendezvous at the Colonial Inn in Heber Springs, one of my all-time favorite "hole-in-the-wall" fly-fishing mom and pop motels.  We stowed some gear and headed straight to the Little Red River and fished the Swinging Bridge Access. 

The Colonial: A Trout-bum's Haven...

I showed Randy the building where Jed Holleman used to run the Little Red Fly Shop.  This place is now occupied with a café called Chuck's Steakhouse and Diner.  I'm sure the food is great at Chuck's, as evidenced by the number of lunch patrons in the parking lot each day, but every time I see this building, I lament at the passing of one of the greatest fly shops I've ever had the pleasure of entering.  (Check back to an earlier Tailwater Tribe Post:  "Little Red Fly Shop RIP")  After a little history lesson, Randy and I assembled the 5 weights, donned the waders and headed to the river.
Over the next two and a half hours, we proceeded to catch fish after fish:  big-shouldered browns and beautiful, colored-up rainbows.
 I wasn't sure where the fish were from a spawning standpoint as I'm not a fan of people who trudge through redds and bastardize these fish during their delicate return to nature each year.  It was my guess to Randy that these fish were in post-spawn mode, but judging from the crowds at Cow Shoals, which we drove by, but under no circumstance were about to stop.
The next day was epic.  In lieu of a shower and shave, we had Coor's light for breakfast and hit the river at 7:00 a.m. 

Excuse the water drop on the GoPro lens, but this was a beautiful brown trout!

Another GoPro lens water droplet blur, but this is a toad!

The next eight hours were unbelievable to say the least.  We caught fish after fish, hammering them consistently all day on various flies.  The most consistent patterns for us were Y2Ks, sowbugs, and egg patterns in every color ranging from hot pink to peach.  Both Randy and I had our shot at the fish of a lifetime.  Mine ended with a tangled tippet around a stalk of elodea after a deep bull-dozing run downstream.  I saw the fish's back after the strike and I knew he was a toad.  Randy also hooked a pig in about the same area and after a long battle, the fish mysteriously got off.  In this life, you expect to lose those big fish.  All you can ask is a chance.  Both of us were extremely fortunate to get one. 
I'm closing with a pic of Randy enjoying a cold one after an epic day.   He's back in the Great White North and I'm back on the Gulf of Mexico.  We are quite the odd couple.  Our graduate degrees at Montana State brought us together, but fly-fishing keeps us in touch, planning the next trip.  But to avoid disappointment, we won't plan too hard.  Impromptu trips like this one always seem to work out the best. 


Randy celebrating the day with a great American beverage