We arrived at Bull Shoals State Park on Saturday AM. I'd have left on
Friday evening, but it was raining cats & dogs and I wanted to wait and see
what the weather was gonna do. Anyhow, I found the sign-in sheet and headed
to Snuggs Browns campsite. Snuggs was the one who'd signed in WITHOUT
removing the sheet from its' plastic sleeve :-) . Snuggs was gone but I
found Rob Gregoire tying bassbugs in the hot Arkansas sun. Robs dog Bo was
soon to became the somewhat unofficial mascot of the 'clave. With Adam eager
to set up camp Rob helped me in the process of beginning the assembly of
this raggedy tent I'd borrowed from a guy at my office. Meanwhile Adam was
looking for one of his 2 turtles. The smaller of the turtles had sneaked off
under the seats in the truck or something. The other turtle, "Curtis", was
safely corralled in the campsite fire pit.
Turns out the tent was an unpitchable piece of crap. It was a hodge-podge
of homemade parts & missing pieces. After a forty five minute struggle
trying to pitch this mess I insisted that we give it up. I consulted with
Adam about the possibility of sleeping in the back of the Suburban instead
of the tent. Nothing doing. He came to camp out and sleeping in the truck
wasn't allowed. So we ran to town, picked up a little dome tent and pitched
it successfully. I sent Adam back to the truck to look for the still missing
turtle. It was darn hot and I really didn't need a dead turtle in the truck.
With the turtle still very lost, Rob, Adam and I went over to the Norfork
to do some fishing. The water on the White at the park was too low at the
moment. When we got to the Norfork Adam and I headed up Dry Run Creek
instead of fishing in the Norfork itself. This is a "catch & release, lures
only/kids only" water coming out of the federal fish hatchery. It wasn't
loaded up with fish as usual, but you could spot them here and there.
Instead of walking along the path Adam I chose to have him fish his way
upstream from it confluence with the Norfork. We wet waded our way over
rocks & logs up to the spot where the fish would be. He had a couple of
hookups that he didn't land. But he DID end up hooking, fighting and landing
a beautiful trout in the 16"-18" range. It was a NICE FISH. My camera was in
the truck of course. This was Adams first ever trout - he was excited. What
a way to start.
When we got back to the campsite I met Snuggs Brown for the first time. He
was alot different than I'd expected in his appearance & mannerisms. If I
was forced to give a description I'd have to say that he's like a "southern
Santa Claus". Not the way he looks, but the way he acts. For those of you
who don't know, Snuggs far exceeded the duties of conclave co-host. He went
overboard. After I told Snuggs about the missing turtle problem, he offered
Adam $1 for the turtle that was still lost in the truck. Adam countered
saying that the missing turtle was worth closer to $20, but that he'd sell
him the other turtle for $1. No dice. I also met L.C. Clower and Hilary
Thompson
Around 7:00 we all headed over to meet everyone else and eat supper. Here
was my chance to most of these people for the first time. Ben "The Colonel" Benoit was the "take charge" kind of guy I'd expected. We needed that. There was a
bunch of people to be fed and some group pics that needed to be taken. Allan
Fish was exactly who I expected him to be. My mental image was accurate.
Super gentleman, I wish we'd gotten the chance to fish together. The
raffling of prizes and the fly swap were all handled by Snuggs. Adam started
to get antsy around 10pm and was ready to head to the tent. I took him back
to our tiny tent and slid him into his "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles"
sleeping bag. He fell asleep almost instantly. I returned to the group, some
of whom were STILL eating. We hung out and chewed the fat for awhile before
heading to bed.
The AM came early. My son didn't want to me cook breakfast on a gas burner.
That would be too common and too convenient. He insisted on cooking on an
open fire. From the truck he rounded up the axe, the firewood and some
newspaper. I also had him take another look for the missing turtle while he
was there. After the campfire cooked breakfast most people headed out to
fish. Adam and I broke camp, released the one turtle back to the wild and
soon after and were on our way to Wildcat Shoals. He wanted to go fishing.
One of the things that'd been nagging me was this missing turtle. I didn't
relish the prospect of finding this smelly dead turtle sometime next
January. So before I packed the Suburban I took a deep look around for it.
Not finding it I assumed (or hoped) that it had fallen out one of the often
open doors.
On the way there something fell onto my foot out from under the dashboard
of the truck. IT WAS THE MISSING TURTLE! He looked no worse than he did the
day before. We stopped only briefly at Rim Shoals. Just long enough to take
a look at the low water, make a few last casts and release the turtle.
The conclave was great. I really have to do this again soon!
Gave us the
chance to stop at a couple of interesting places on the way. We also picked
up two new pets/passengers on the trip. Adam had found and taken a liking to
two turtles we "rescued" from the pavement of Texas county. He named them
"Curtis" and "Lonely". They really helped pass the time on this five (+)
hour road trip.
in person for the first time. What a hoot it is to put faces &
voices with these people we already know. LC is not what I'd had in mind. I
thought he'd be a somewhat quiet guy with many years of FF'ing wisdom under
his belt. I was wrong on one count. LC isn't quiet. He's a north Texan with
the drawl to prove it. Perfectly willing to spin long yarns of BS way into
the night. But between he and Hilary they cook up a great pot of coffee.
Anyhow, we pulled into wildcat to find the water pathetically
low. Adam grabbed his rod and made a few fruitless casts anyway. No luck. We
took off from there downstream to Cotter. There's a spring there and I'd
hoped to find Adam a few more fish. The water was low at Cotter also, but
trout were stacked up near the spring as we'd hoped. Hundreds of them. But
these are those trouts that don't eat - proven by their complete lack of
cooperation to hit. It didn't matter because within a half hour or so Adam
was enticed by to go catch crawdads a little girl that'd been trying to get
his attention. What an enchantress. A few minutes of that and we struck out
for one last look at the White River, destination Rim Shoals.