Taking a break (or not)...

"The greatest enemy of 'good' is 'better'"
                                                               ~Voltaire

Call it "Smallmouth Immersion". Call it "Bronzeback burn". Call it what you will. For the last 12 months, my fishing life has revolved around this brown denizen of the Ozarks waterways.

I started feeling like I had forgot the other fishes I love to catch. Felt like I had tunnel vision. The very first fish I remember catching is a 4 inch bluegill from a pond at a place called Deer Lake campground in Illinois. We were on a family camping vacation and I distinctly remember throwing a huge 4 year-old-boy-fit to keep and eat it. My Father took it to camp, cleaned it, and my Mother cooked it for me. In Crisco. I still base the taste all fish I eat today off of that one little bluegill...

My brother Jon and I with a stringer of bullheads, circa 1976

My first Trout was in 1976 at Roaring River State park. We had no idea what to do with it. Luckily, Bill Berry and his family ( Nancy, Tony, and Chris) were in the park at the same time. They took pity on us neophytes and taught us the finer points on these "noble creatures". Thus began the long love affair with the Salmonids. Rainbow, Brown, Brook or Bull, Silver, King, Chum or Sockeye, I pursued these fish with vigor. 

In 1984 I took a float on the James river from Kerr access to Galena. I'd fished the James on and off for a few years, but had never been on this stretch. It's only accessible by boat ( or canoe, kayak, raft etc.) and I was amazed at the numbers of "brown bass" we caught. I was duly impressed by the fight these fish would put out. I was hooked. 

1997 found me as the Fly Fishing instructor at Roaring River State park. Trout. 98, 99, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004-Trout, salmon/trout, salmon/trout, salmon/trout, trout trout trout..From '97 to 2004 I spent well over 200 days a year on the water, either guiding or fishing. Then I needed a break...

I took a 3 or 4 year break from all fishing. Had kids, got a "career" going, did the adult thing.
I had lost the 4 year old kid who caught his first bluegill. If I did fish, it felt forced. Don't get me wrong, I missed it. Too much fishing...or guiding, which became work, can cause some PTSD. I didn't want to work, I wanted to fish. I still spent (too) much time in the yard (according to my ex, anyway) casting my favorite 4 and 5 weights. Still read all the rags, and talked fishing with anyone who would listen. 

In 2008 my buddy and neighbor David Moore asked me to go on an annual trip he took to the Little Red tailwater in Arkansas. I had fished the Little Red a bunch in the years past, and he was going in late November. Prime Time for big brown trout. It took me all of 10 minutes to say yes. 

So I spent 5 days at Lobo Landing, fishing Cow Shoals, Swinging Bridge, Mossy Shoals and Libby Shoals. Three of those days were spent trying to get my form back, two were spent in glorious combat with big to huge browns. I lost a fish on day four that was as big or bigger than any King Salmon or Steelhead I had hooked in Alaska (isn't that the way it goes?).
I was back! More succinctly, the fire was back. I came back from that trip with a renewed energy for fishing. 

The next 3 years was spent in pursuit of anything with fins; White Bass, Stripers, Hybrids, Goggle-Eye, Crappie, Redear, Trout ( albeit on a limited basis), Largemouth and Smallmouth, Carp, you name it, I was after it. And a new twist; I was fishing conventional gear as much or more than the flyrod. I didn't care. 

Fired UP!!!

Here's where the plot thickens; In 2013 I was wearing out the white bass on Taylor Shoals, just above Blunk access on the James River. I had 10 in the basket and was culling small males. Cast....strip...strip...strip...BAM! Wait; that's not a white bass. Heavy, head shaking pulls and a flash of bronze. BIG smallie. Two hard runs and a good jump later, I had a 17 inch bronze warrior at my feet. Damn. That was fun. Two more casts, two more white bass. Then BAM! Another Brown Bass. Then another. Then a fourth. Lost a fifth on the reach and then back to whites..Man, those smallies pull HARD!

I went home that night and researched the Ozarks Smallmouth. Not just in Missouri. Oklahoma, Arkansas, SE Kansas. I spent the next month reading all I could about them. 
Spent every minute fishing trying to catch them. 

In May of 2016 I decided to get serious about OSA. During my research I saw an alarming number of these fish on stringers. Wait, we can only keep 4 hatchery raised trout but we can keep 6, wild, stream-born never stocked smallmouth? Bad math. No offense to those who make the rules, but really? 

I boosted one post for $20 and off she went. 2000 followers by July 4th. 4000 by December 15th. 5700 as of this post. 10 months later..Smallmouth, smallmouth, smallmouth...

The one that started it all

This picture had 2.3k likes and reached over 70k people. Now we have BronzeFest 2017 coming up. We're sponsoring two BFL anglers and a Kayak Tournament trail. We work with The Fallen Outdoors, Project Healing Waters, Missouri Smallmouth Alliance, and a host of other advocates for the Fighters well being. I made the Pro Staff for OMTC, and am on the National Pro Staff for Wilderness Systems Kayaks. The term "whirlwind" doesn't describe the last year or so...

So. Maybe "Bronzeback Burn" is a little strong. Maybe I needed to write this to remind myself why I love these fish so much. We don't just use "Free. The. Fighter" as a tag line. We live it. All of 5700+ of us. Everyone who likes a post, shares a picture, sends kind words, rocks our decals, and lets a smallmouth go, is our brother or sister. 

In the end, all streams lead to an ocean. It's spring now, and I'll be headed to the James early tomorrow. Water is way up, 4000 CFS at Galena. But that won't matter to me. Every cast could be the next big fish. White Bass, Smallmouth, Largemouth, Carp...Regardless of the species, I'll be there...

Thank you for your support...