February 2018 Full

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VOL. 45, NO. 8

FEBRUARY 2018

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Opinions vary on future of closed state parks

By MATTIE LINK

P

mattie@sextonmediagroup.com _____________

ublic comments on the future of three Missouri State Parks properties are now available online at mostateparks.com.

The three properties, which have not been developed and are currently closed, are Ozark Mountain State Park in Taney County, Bryant Creek State Park in Dou-

glas County and Jay Nixon State Park in Reynolds County.!

The comments were gathered during a public comment period that was open from Dec. 4, 2017, through Jan. 6, 2018.

Missouri State Parks (MSP) kicked off the comment period with a series of public meetings to discuss the future of the three properties. The public could submit comments about the properties in three different ways.

If they attended a public meeting, they could fill out and submit comment cards available at the public meetings. They could also complete an online survey on the Missouri State Parks website.

A few people and public entities chose to send emails or other correspondence directly to Missouri State Parks.

The River Hills Traveler viewed all of the comments online and pulled a few to publish in this story. The commenter's

name and address were not published by MSP. Ozark Mountain State Park The Ozark Mountain property is located in western Taney County, on the north fringe of Branson’s urban zone. It covers 1,011 acres and borders Ruth and Paul Henning Conservation Area.

There is a 2.2-mile stretch of Roark Please see PARKS, 18

Constantly caring for Ozarks rivers

P

erhaps I should not have been a fisherman, he thought. But that was the thing that I was born for.”

—Earnest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea

W (L-r) James Brewington, Roger Tripp and Sharon Martin enjoy visiting with all the customers at their shop.

Lures or live bait?

Custom Lures & Bait offers both plus guide services

C

By Bill Wakefield ustom Lures & Bait is very different from the other bait shops that I have visited over the past several months.

Even the name shows its paradox to a typical bait shop. Lures are featured before the live bait and that philosophy carries throughout the shop and its owners.

Roger Tripp and his partner, James Brewington, opened their shop on Sept. 15, 2013, in Fredericktown, Mo. The live bait part of the business came about because there wasn’t a bait shop locally and their customers requested live bait along with the lures that they purchased.

As you drive into the parking lot

the first thing you notice is that the bait shop is an entirely separate building located next to the main building.

The fisherman has a good selection of bait to choose from. There

are the standard Canadian Crawlers and red wigglers. Minnows include shiners, gold fish, koi, and rosie reds. The bait fisherman will also find crickets and Super meal worms.

Catfishing is very popular in the area and to accommodate them, the bait shop carries Sonny’s dip bait, blood balls, Skip Jack Herring, shad and rooster livers when they are available.

People can stop in anytime from sunup to sundown to buy bait and supplies except on Thursdays. Custom Lures & Bait shop closes on Thursdays.

To insure that their customers receive the best and healthiest baits,

Please see BAIT, 18

By Ryan Walker ith the New Year here, I find myself reflecting on the river’s bounty from the year just ended. Not just last year, but all the years and all of the seasons given in 40+ years of fishing the Ozarks rivers.

I’ll try to help you conjure images of these places via words, but words alone will not do them justice. If you know where they are, I’ve either guided you, we’ve fished together, or you know the rivers I am describing well enough to decipher my personal colloquialisms.

So, without further ado, here are some of my favorite runs.

The Miracle 1/2 Mile — James River, somewhere between Hootentown & Marble Grounds Stay left at the rock wall. The current wants to pull you into the shallow gravel, but you know better.

This run gets deep on the other side of the river, and if you allow her to pull you in, you’ll get beached, or worse, run over the fish below.

Dig. Hard. The sweet spot is far right, the one that will deposit you (almost) perfectly in the seam. Below the rapid, river left is cane and wil-

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!"78&"9"16:;,-& !"<$*$-1315,& !"=6>*,->& !"+-'55";612&

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!""#$%%#"&"' ()*+,-.-/012*+-32455-.-6*789:;0: <+:028-.-6*19-=>+*+89*4-.-?+989+>@,;0A:

Please see RIVERS, 19

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February 2018 • Page 3

Missouri has excellent fly fishing opportunities

F

By Bill Cooper ly fishing offers the ultimate in trout fishing adventure at Missouri’s trout parks. It is one thing to catch a limit of four rainbow trout on baits, or even artificial lures such as spinners, jigs and minnow imitators, but it is an entirely different ball game to fool trout into taking a tiny fly which a fish has judged to be a live, aquatic insect which it relishes as an easy meal.

Thousands were attracted to the sport of fly fishing when the movie “A River Runs Through It” debuted. And rightfully so.

The movie actors aptly portrayed fly fishing as a beautiful, artistic endeavor undergirded by religious fervor and personal reflection coupled with deep, mental aspirations and equally prevalent emotions.

I have enjoyed the distinct pleasure of drifting flies to trout from the Appalachians to the Rockies and Canada to Mexico. Gorgeous scenery and breathtaking views are often associated with trout fishing. I can vouch that the precepts are true.

Likewise, trout fishing in the Show Me State takes place in some of the most spectacular scenic areas within its boundaries. The trout parks are no exception.

Trout fishing need not be as complex as many people are led to believe. A little study and practice will put any newcomer to the sport in ready fashion. A 5-weight rod, line and matching reel are the basic equipment essentials and will handle most trout encountered in the trout parks.

A weight forward, floating fly line will make casting a cinch. Add a tapered leader to the end of the fly line and you have the perfect mixture of equipment ingredients to cast a fly as easily and as far as is necessary in the trout parks.

Maintaining the “ten and two” casting posture, as demonstrated in articles and videos on fly fishing, will go far in aiding your casting ability, increasing your success and bolstering your confidence.

I found it particularly helpful to point my rod tip at a stream-side treetop when completing the cast. This approach keeps from lowering the rod tip too much, which results in pileups, poor casts and spooked fish.

Waders are essential to fly fishermen.

Their use allows an angler to position himself in the best spot to approach and cast to fish he has sighted or to spots that likely hold fish.

Good quality waders go a long way toward keeping a fisherman dry, warm and happy. That combination keeps one in the water longer, which equals more casts and more fish.

Choice of flies is a subject that draws as much attention as politics in an election year. Every trout stream is different and while all may harbor many of the same aquatic insects, each will have bugs special to that area.

Studying the species of insects found at each park and the time of year and day that they are most prevalent will go a long way toward increasing your catch rate. Find fly patterns that most resemble the insects you find and you will be in business.

Google up fly patterns and you will be overwhelmed. Narrow your search to trout flies and the situation becomes more tolerable. Search topics like fly fishing Missouri’s trout parks and books on trout fishing and flies, and

Damon Spurgeon utilizes a 5-weight fly rod and large Wooly Buggers to catch big trout at Maramec Spring Park.

you can quickly become an educated trout fisherman.

Tiny jigs capable of being flipped with a fly rod are hard to beat early in the season when aquatic insects are less visible. King jigs makes a fly rod jig that are the best that I have found. I prefer brown and black, but they now make some very colorful jigs that produce good results as well.

As warmer weather nears and more bug hatches take place, I begin to use black ant patterns in number 18 and 20 sizes. Pale evening Duns in size 22 work for me as well.

However, I carry three or four fly boxes stuffed with dozens of types of flies. Each seems to have its day, regardless of weather or bug hatches.

I, do however, find myself relying on a half-dozen or so old faithfuls throughout the year. I would never leave the house without several scud patterns. These dumpy looking patterns resemble freshwater shrimp and are relished by trout. I catch most of my fish on tan or pink patterns by drifting the flies at the edge of currents near rocks or weed beds. Freshwater shrimp like to hang out in such areas.

Nymphs of any type are good throughout the water column. You’ll have to experiment to find out where the fish are feeding on any given day.

Emerger nymphs are fished just below the surface of the water, imitating an aquatic insect struggling to

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break through the topwater film and emerge as an adult of its species. Other

nymphs may fished from the surface all the way to the bottom of the stream.

Bead-headed nymphs are one of my favorites. I prefer the Pheasant Tail nymph in number 12 and 14 sizes. The gold bead head adds a bit of flash to the presentation and the forked tail may imitate a small crayfish.

My favorite summertime trout fly for late evenings or early mornings is a Griffith’s Gnat in size 18. The grizzled little bug looks like it needs to be eaten by a trout and it often works. I like to fish it in the current in open, clear water.

When fishing gets tough, I often bring a hand-tied fly of my own into play. Trout park streams often contain offal from fish that have been cleaned in the streams. Other trout will feed on the remains, especially the white or pink pieces of meat and skin which wave in the current.

I tie clusters of white and, occasionally, light pink feathers on a number 12 hook to resemble fish flesh. The feathers should be fluid enough to wave in the current.

These flesh flies are best fished in riffles or just below them where trout wait for food to be washed their way.

These patterns will work at both Maramec Spring Park and Montauk State Park. If you have never been fly fishing in these parks, Montauk has separate fly fishing areas while Maramec does not.

Regardless, both parks offer excellent fly fishing opportunities. Grab that magic wand called a fly rod and orchestrate your own fly fishing dreams.

RiverHillsTraveler.com

Page 4 • February 2018

Never a dull moment exploring fire towers

I

By Bob Frakes n September 2016 my wife and I made our way to a site on my “to do" list. This was the Possum Trot site located south of Winona on Route 19.

It was an easy historic site to find.

My GPS unit is based on topography maps and some of the past and present tower sites are shown.

I was able to walk right to it. However, I didn’t expect to find what was there. The footings or piers were right there – all eight of them!

As you can see in the picture, there were four smaller 50-foot footings located concentrically inside four larger. I had never seen that before; I have never seen it since.

It is not uncommon to find multiple footings at a site. Maybe a steel tower replaced a wooden one. Maybe a larger tower replaced a smaller. But, how do you explain one set inside the other?

Now, it seems the smaller was there first. I have a list — “Fire Towers of the Fristoe” — which has a 50-foot “Possum Trot 1938” listed. With that date it seems certain a larger 100 foot or so tower was built later on.

A tower friend, John Timmermann, would answer the mystery. He sent me a picture and if you look close, you can see a 50-foot “windmill” tower sitting right inside a much larger “internal ladder” type tower.

In fact, I have a Possum Trot picture that shows the same, I had just never looked close enough. The answer was lost in plain sight!

Why that was done this one time remains a mystery. Was it done to provide coverage until the larger tower was up? You didn’t have to put one on

River Hills Traveler 212 E. Main St., Neosho, MO 64850 Phone & Fax: 800-874-8423

www.riverhillstraveler.com Email: jimmy@riverhillstraveler. com Owner & Publisher Jimmy Sexton Managing Editor Madeleine Link Circulation Manager Amanda Harvel Staff Writers Wes Franklin • Mike Roux Bill Wakefield • Bill Oder Tom Boydston • Bill Cooper Michelle Turner • Dana Sturgeon Chuck Smick • Ryan Walker Richard Whiteside • Roger Smith Double footings at Possum Trot.

Possum Trot lookout tower.

top of another for that. There was plenty of room there.

Was it an experiment to use a standing 50-footer to help erect a 100footer? There is only conjecture.

I was also able to clear another mystery off the list. The same “Fire Towers of the Fristoe” listed a tree lookout at “Mud Pond Ridge” – no location given.

I asked here and there for some time.

Nobody could quite remember.

Then, I asked Kevin Cox from the Winona Office and he said sure, he grew up near there. It seems Mud Pond is south of Winona on 19 and east on Old Tram Road. You go a few miles and turn south and that is Mud Pond Ridge.

A tree lookout was located there at

one time, probably to provide coverage over the ridge for Possum Trot Tower.

Sydney Buchman once observed, “If there were no mystery left to explore, life would get rather dull, wouldn’t it?”

If you are into a tower hobby, there is never a dull moment!

(Questions or comments? Bob Frakes can be reached by email at frakes2@ mvn.net or by phone at 618244-1642.)

On the Cover

Jim Brazeal with his 18-inch smallie he caught in Stacked Rock Hole in Creek X (located somewhere in Missouri). (photo by Ryan Walker)

Advertising All of us River Hills Traveler, established in 1973, is published monthly by Sexton Media Group and Traveler Publishing Company at 212 E. Main St., Neosho, MO 64850. Postmaster: Send change of address notices to: River Hills Traveler, 212 E. Main St., Neosho, MO 64850. Subscription prices: $22 per year; 2 years, $40. Back issues available up to one year from publication, $5 plus sales tax & shipping.

COPYRIGHT © 2018 No part of this publication may be reproduced without the express written permission of the publisher of the River Hills Traveler or his duly appointed agent. The publisher reserves the right to reject any advertising or editorial submission for any reason.

RiverHillsTraveler.com

February 2018 • Page 5

Over 1,500 fly fishers expected to attend ‘Sowbug’

T

he North Arkansas Fly Fishers (NAFF) will hold their 21st annual “Sowbug Roundup… a Celebration of Fly Fishing” on March 22-24.

This is an international show held in Mountain Home, Ark., near the world famous White and Norfolk rivers.

One of the goals of the Sowbug Roundup is to encourage more people, especially youngsters, to become involved in fly fishing and conserving our natural Jimmy Sexton resources.

———— It is more imporJourney On tant now than ever to get kids outside and being mindful with what is going on around them. Technology has put practically anything they could need or want at their fingertips, and kids just aren’t getting involved in the outdoors like they used to.

That is why the show’s entrance fee is $5 for all three days, and kids under 12 are free.

This year, one day of the show will feature Tenkara fly fishing with speak-

I

think sometimes we avoid the subject of death because it is unpleasant to think of the inescapable fact that we are all just treading water here until the day we go under.

However, the old Ozark hillman was obsessed, in my personal opinion, with the subject.

Ozark folklorist Vance Randolph recorded quite a number of old Ozark superstitions regarding death.

Wes Franklin One example of ———— these is the belief Native Ozarker that one should never wash clothes on New Year’s Day or it will very possibly result in the death of kinsman.

Another is that if a picture suddenly falls from the wall, the first one who picks it up will die within a year.

Makes you wonder why anyone would ever touch any fallen pictures – unless

ers, auctions and demonstrations.

Also, every day there will be free fly tying classes, casting clinics and drawings for the kids.

Last year, more than 1,500 fly fishers attended the show along with 130 fly tiers from around the world. This might be the best club-sponsored fly tying/fishing show in the US. The NAFF only does one fundraiser a year, and your help is greatly appreciated. Some of the things the club accomplished last year include: •!Awarded scholarships totaling $13,200 to college students pursuing degrees related to fisheries and conservation.

•!Brought Landon Mayer in for a two-day fly fishing presentation free to the public.

•!Taught a 12-week fly tying and fly fishing class to home-schooled students in Baxter County, Ark. •!Provided fishing activities for adults and kids, including fly tying classes and fly fishing instruction on streams.

The NAFF, an affiliated club of Fly Fishers International, is a 501(c)3 nonprofit, charitable organization and is incorporated in the State of Arkansas as a non-profit organization.

If you’d like to make a donation,

please send it to North Arkansas Fly Fishers, Attn: Susan Parsons, 90 Jordan Lane, Lakeview, AR 72642.

——— Other things on my mind: • Furbearer biologist Laura Conlee, with the Missouri Department of Conservation, would like your help in reporting any sightings, captures or road-kills!of badgers, spotted skunks, least weasels and long-tailed weasels.

Badgers can legally be harvested during the established season, however, there is no trapping or hunting season for weasels and spotted skunks.

Please report any sightings, photos, or road-kill animals to Conlee by calling (573) 815-7900 or emailing laura.conlee@mdc.mo.gov.

• Just a reminder that the Missouri Trappers Association will have a fur auction on Saturday, Feb. 17, at the Montgomery County Fairgrounds in Montgomery City.

• The MDC is updating its black bear research webpage with enhanced features and information on Missouri’s native black bear population.

The new webpage will offer black bear research project summaries, project updates, new research photos, videos, interactive story maps and much more.

One of many new web features will be an interactive story map. Story maps combine maps and geography with narrative text, images, and multimedia content to better share the story about black bears in Missouri. The black bear story map will launch this spring on the website.

The new enhanced story map will replace the old tracking map previously on the website. While the new technology still provides interactive research maps of bear movements in Missouri, it limits individual collared bear locations to protect against illegal poaching.

MDC’s Conservation Commission has established a benchmark of 500 black bears before MDC initiates a hunting season.

Missouri currently has an estimated black bear population of 350 bears.

To learn more about black bears in Missouri, including research information, ongoing project updates, bear research photos and videos, and future story maps, go to!http://bit.ly/2CU gZiE. To view the new map of bear reports in Missouri or to report a bear sighting, visit!http://bit.ly/2CGFixc.

(Jimmy Sexton is owner and publisher of the River Hills Traveler. He can be reached at (800) 874-8423, ext.

1, or jimmy@riverhillstraveler.com.)

they were a non-believer, of course.

If you usually lock the door of your home at night, but forget to one evening, it is a bad omen of the death of someone you care about.

It is bad form, and possibly bad luck, to sweep under a sick person’s bed.

Never lift a sick man from one bed to another unless you transfer the bedding with him.

Never turn a sick person completely around where their head and feet exchange places on the bed. Also, never shave a person who is seriously ill. All of these things could bring about their death.

If you’re dangerously sick and want to know your prognosis, touch some bread to your lips and throw it to a dog.

If the dog refuses to eat, you only have a short time to live.

Burn the heart of a murdered man to ensure his killer will receive justice.

When someone dies in the house, cover all the mirrors with a white cloth, for if one should see their own reflection in a mirror while the body is still

in the house it means the person will die within a year.

Always dig a grave on the same day as the burying. If a grave is dug the day before it may bring about the death of one of the deceased’s relatives.

Rain on the day of the funeral is a good sign, as it means the departed’s soul is at rest.

Once a funeral procession has started, it is bad luck for it to stop for any reason until reaching the cemetery, or it could mean the death of another member of the family within a year.

Try not to let a body lie unburied past Sunday or it could bring bad luck to the family.

When a person dies, stop the clocks in the house. If they should stop on their own while the deceased is in the house it could mean the death of someone in the household. Stopping the clocks on your own circumvents this possibility.

Never burn sassafras wood or it could cause the death of one’s mother.

If she is already dead, it’s okay. Never

burn peach tree wood or it could also cause death.

Do not carry a hoe into the house or it will result in the death of a relative.

When a dog howls four times on the front porch it means there will soon be a death in the house.

If a rooster crows seven times in the doorway of a house, without turning around, someone in the family is going to die soon.

If a whippoorwill lands on the roof and gives its call, there will be a death nearby within 24 hours.

Birds in the house are bad luck, bats are very bad luck, and an owl in the house is the worst of all. It nearly always means death.

There are many more Ozark superstitions regarding death.

I will continue with part two next month.

Until then, be careful out there.

(Wes Franklin!can be reached by email at cato.uticensis46@gmail.com, or by USPS mail at 12161 Norway Road, Neosho, MO 64850.)

Death in the Ozarks, part 1

RiverHillsTraveler.com

Page 6 • February 2018

My last fishing trip ends at the ER

T

he wife and I were blessed with two sons. As with most parents, we enjoyed doing things with our kids.

I don’t remember just how old they were at this time, but they were still in grade school.

We thought we would go on a fishing-camping trip. So we loaded our camping and fishing gear and headed out to a small lake not too far out of town.

When we arrived the first order of things was to set up camp. It was late in the evening and the boys were anxious to start fishing. Well, me too.

We had no boat so we would be fishing from the bank. Problem was, there were no really clear spots which were not already taken. We found a halfway decent spot and started preparing our lines.

There were so many trees and brush the boys would get hung up.

After a few times of this, I was becoming irritated (not at the boys) but beTom cause it was getting Boydston dark and I also ———— wanted to fish.

Finally, things got settled down and I got my line ready. Okay, here I go.

Oops, now I am hung up. Now I am really mad, and embarrassed, so I yanked hard on my line.

It came loose and, what I thought was the sinker, hit me in the head, which didn’t help my mood any, so I pulled even harder.

Well, it wasn’t a sinker that hit me in the head, it was my treble hook. Buried under the skin. That’s what I get for losing my temper.

I asked my wife to pull it out, and she tried with no luck. She said as always, I had a hard head.

Thanks, I needed that.

I told her to take my knife, cut the skin a little and lift it out.

“No way,” she says.

The oldest boy jumped right on that one.

“Let me, I can do it!”

In your dreams boy. My line never hit the water, but I caught a big sucker.

It was late so I needed to go to the emergency room.

We cut the fishing line from the hook, I put a hat on and off I went. I didn’t have to go all the way back into town because a new branch of the hospital had just been completed nearby.

At least I might not be gone for hours. I was glad I didn’t have to go to the main hospital because I knew too many of the staff that worked there.

That would be embarrassing.

I got to the emergency room, walked up to the desk, and to my surprise, I knew the nurse. She asked me what the problem was, because I looked fine to her.

I explained to her (very quietly) that I had a fish hook stuck in my head. She must not have heard me, because she asked again what it was I had said.

I repeated what I told her before, and as she was laughing she repeated loudly, “You have a fish hook in your head?”

I didn’t understand why she did that until I looked around and saw that I

knew most of the staff there. They had transferred from the main hospital to here.

I must have looked like a turtle pulling his head back into his shell. At that time I wish I could have.

Well, I gave them a good laugh and after that some of them began calling me Captain Hook. That took some time to live down.

As the boys got a little older and a little more responsible, they asked if they could take a few friends and go fishing and camping overnight without me going along. I agreed.

They loaded their gear and I took them to a nearby county park and lake.

Told them I would pick them up the next afternoon. Late that night there was a tornado that went through that area. I headed out to the park right away.

By the time I got there it was daylight. Trees were down everywhere. I couldn’t get to their campsite by car because of the trees. I walked the rest of the way, or rather ran.

When I got to their camp, I saw a tree laying across their tent. You can imagine what I felt at that moment. None of them were inside.

I began calling for them. It wasn’t too long they came walking up the hill from the lake, and all three were just fine. Boy what a relief.

I asked them what they did and they said the wind got so strong they went to one of the shelter houses, built a fire in the stone fireplace and spent the night.

That morning they got up and went fishing as if nothing happened.

We dug out their camping gear, loaded up and went home, even though they wanted to stay and fish. I sure was proud of them. Nice move.

When the boys got old enough they joined the boy scouts. As time went by, they wanted to take a canoe trip and earn a particular badge. Okay, but this meant adult supervision.

We decided the Marais des Cygnes River would do fine. It was only about seventy miles from our place and the river would be about right for canoeing this time of year.

With the three of us and all the camping and fishing gear, we would need two canoes. That meant another adult to help in the second canoe. I called a friend of mine (yes, I do have a friend or two) and he thought that would be fun.

We would spend three days on the

trip, and travel approximately fifty miles on the river. The river was much lower than we expected, so we had to do quite a bit of portaging.

We were having a pretty good time except for my friend. I didn’t notice he didn’t appear to be enjoying the trip.

Before long he said he wasn’t feeling well.

Maybe, but I feel as though he expected more from the trip, and not so much work. I have to admit it did turn into more work than expected. But you never know what might happen.

Well, he decided he would go home.

He called for someone to come pick him up. He did make a call for us to my “other” friend, to come take his place.

The boys were worried the trip would end right there. While we were waiting on the switch, we did get in a lot of fishing. The boys caught fish, all I did was drown a few worms.

A lot of time had been lost which we would need to make up as to meet our scheduled pickup time.

At night we camped on the bank, got in a lot of fishing and the rest of the trip went well and we made our pickup time.

When the boys got a little older, their boy scout troop canoed the border waters of Canada. I guess our little trip was just a “walk in the park.”

One spring I went to Independence, Kansas, and did some scouting for deer at a nearby lake. Found a good spot where deer had been traveling, and a great place for a stand.

When the season came around, a buddy of mine (now I have three friends) wanted to go along and fish while I was hunting.

So we hooked his boat trailer to the car and off we went. When we arrived, we found the lake had flooded some.

To reach my deer stand I would have to walk through two feet of water, and that ain’t gonna happen.

Since we had driven that far and brought the boat, he wanted to go ahead and try to do some fishing.

I didn’t mind, but I thought it would be a waste of time, but then when I fish it is a waste of time. The water was real muddy and a little swift but we put the boat in and tried our luck. My first cast, I snagged on something.

I had learned my lesson on jerking my line, so I just began reeling it in and whatever I had hooked, it was coming in.

Big-big surprise I had a large catfish on my line. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

We fished a little longer with no luck.

We wanted to see what that fish weighed so we drove to a little bait shop we had passed on our way in and checked it out on their scales.

Wow! It went twelve and a half pounds. For me, that was a monster.

For me to even catch a fish was something.

That night we cooked it over an open fire, and I can’t believe we ate the whole thing.

The years went by too fast. The boys grew up and left home. So we sold our house and moved back to the Neosho area.

Sometime later my oldest son called and wanted me to go fishing with him to a lake he wanted to try out. Of course I would.

We loaded the canoe and set out. He was quite the fisherman, and he knew my fishing skills, so he had me use the same lures he was using. Sounded good to me. How could I go wrong?

He was fishing on one side of the canoe and I on the other. He was catching fish and I was not. He thought we would just switch sides and see what would happen. Okay that should do it.

There must be a honey hole on his side. Well, guess what? Now he was catching fish on my side, and me, same as always, nothing.

All I know is that fish hate me. Oh, well, I sure had a great time in all these years with all my friends and family.

(Tom Boydston lives in Neosho, Mo., and can be reached by phone or text at 417-439-6048.)

RiverHillsTraveler.com

February 2018 • Page 7

‘James Fork’ is an indispensable book

R

By Steve Wiegenstein eaders of books on Ozarks culture and geography are probably familiar with Leland and Crystal Payton, whose earlier works, "Damming the Osage," "Mystery of the Irish Wilderness," "The Beautiful and Enduring Ozarks," and others, explore elements of the Ozark experience in a reflective and sympathetic though unromanticized way.

Now the Paytons are out with a new book," James Fork of the White: Transformation of an Ozark River," which treats the James Fork (or James River, depending on your choice of nomenclature) much as "Damming the Osage" dealt with its river: exploring its culture, its notable inhabitants, its controversies, its geography and hydrology, its history, and ultimately its submersion into a manmade lake, in this case Table Rock Lake, which swallowed up many miles of what had been one of Missouri’s great float streams.

The James gets less attention than other Ozarks rivers; it doesn’t have the national recognition of the Buffalo, Current, or Eleven Point, nor the long sinuous might of the Osage.

But the stories gathered from along the James, and the variety of its topography as it flows west from near Seymour, skirts the southern edge of Springfield, then abruptly heads south

This real photo postcard by George Hall shows legendary float guide Tom Yocum, circa 1918.

Table Rock Dam is on the White River, but it backs up 50 miles of the James.

The dam ended the famous Galena-to-Branson float, but did create a clear water lake with excellent largemouth bass fishing.

through Galena to its meeting with the lake near Kimberling City, make for a book that should be on the shelf of anyone with an interest in the Ozarks, its streams, or its people.

"James Fork of the White" is an oversized book, 352 pages with full-color illustrations from start to finish. Many of the illustrations are photographs by Leland Payton, whose work has documented the Ozarks for decades.

Payton’s photographic gaze is contemplative, sometimes wry, and often focused on the human artifacts that have marked the landscape over the generations: old bridges, buildings, the remnants of milldams and springhouses, signs, and sometimes (though not insistently) an actual human.

The overlook-at-sunset-in-autumn photo is not to be found – or if found, is likely to be a tad off kilter. Just as valuable in the illustrations are the vast numbers of historical images the Paytons have collected, including postcards, maps, clippings, pamphlets, labels, and other ephemera.

Taken together, the historic images and the contemporary photographs create a rich visual portrait of the James River watershed.

The text of the book, as with "Damming the Osage," consists of brief vignettes about people, incidents, and landscapes within the region, grouped together into chapters that converge on a broader topic: the geography of the region, the upper river, the Springfield section, and the famous float trip stretch from Galena to Branson, for example.

Each chapter covers a number of topics within that broad subject area, each typically taking two to four pages be-

fore moving on. Like the images, the text covers an immense variety of subjects. There were some I was dimly aware of, some I was familiar with, and many, many that I’d never heard of before.

The Paytons, who live in Springfield, have made this river a particular project of documentation, and this book covers everything from forgotten industries and settlements to recent controversies over pollution and development.

I found the saga of the creation of Table Rock Dam and its lake particularly interesting. I suspect I am not alone in assuming that Table Rock originated in the wave of flood control public works projects of the mid-twentieth century, part of the “big dam foolishness” chronicled in Elmer T. Peterson’s book of the same name, but I was surprised to learn that the dam had its roots much farther back.

The book details the plans of multiple entrepreneurs to dam the James as early as 1908, plans which were thwarted and resuscitated over the decades as the winds of politics and economics shifted.

"James Fork of the White" treats the

creation of Table Rock Lake with evenhanded understanding. The lake has brought immense economic development to Branson and the surrounding area, but that development came at the cost of the permanent inundation of hundreds of miles of valleys, farmland, and settlements.

The James Fork’s legendary Galenato-Branson float, itself a tourist attraction in its own right, was lost to the more mechanized allure of deep flat water, stocked trout, and big bass fishing.

"James Fork of the White" is a book I will return to again and again, both for the richness of its images and for the variety of its information. For residents of Springfield and the White River valley, and for anyone interested in Ozarks history and culture, this is an indispensable book.

James Fork of the White is available for $35, postage paid, from the publisher, Lens & Pen Press, at http://beautifulozarks.com.

(Steve Wiegenstein is a novelist and professor at Columbia College, and a born and raised Ozarker. His family roots go deep in Madison, Iron, and Reynolds counties.)

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RiverHillsTraveler.com

Page 8 • February 2018

Is this a discussion or a dispute?

I

By Judy Haas Smith have a standing curiosity about ancient cultures. I have a gnawing suspicion that without technology, they mentally developed wisdom.

Learning to live without conveniences enhanced their naturally-endowed coping mechanisms, I think.

It has always interested me that ancient languages have been found to have very long words with many syllables with complex vowel and consonant arrangements.

To my way of thinking, this is a sound indication that these ancients were highly intelligent.

By the same reasoning, I am very suspicious of what the outcome will be of texting with abbreviated words as so many do now. My granddaughter gave me a “Texting Dictionary.” All the vowels are missing.

When I lived in Kansas City twenty years ago, I took a turn at learning Hebrew. It is like texting: no vowels. I just wonder if mankind is going forward or backward, or perhaps just in a circle.

Having filled your mind with the above thoughts about language, let us transfer that thinking to cultural expression, specifically artwork.

In Joplin, Mo., the Spiva Center for the Arts currently has a show with the title, CONTEMPORARY NATIVE AMERICAN ART. It is a very nice and informative show and I really was quite fascinated with the panel discussion that followed the next day. In fact, I took five pages of notes.

An art show is NOT an inexpensive endeavor and the sponsors of this one are to be thanked.

Charity is often directed to “health need” but I maintain there is a mental need for the advancement and understanding of cultures and the art they produce.

Therefore, thanks to Indigo Sky Casino and Downstream Casino as well

The title of this quilt pattern is “Survivors,” by Carla Hemlock of the Mohawk Tribe.

as the Chickasaw Nation.

The morning panelists were a group of three: (1) Curator from the Philbrook Museum in Tulsa; (2) University of Oklahoma artist, teacher and creator of a traveling show of SE Native Americans, “Return to Exile”; and (3) the editor of Native American Art magazine.

The questions were designed by panel leader Josie Mai, who is the Spiva director and curator of this show, “Contemporary Native American Art.” First question to panelists: What is the purpose of this art? To make a political statement or inner self expression?

There is no final answer to this question but the really submerged question began to float to the top. How much of art is technique and how much is emotional expression?

And if art is the reflection of the society that inspires it, then how much of that society’s historical culture needs to be known for the work to be honest?

I was impressed with two answers that came from artists in the audience.

AROUND the WORLD with the River Hills Traveler

Laurel Sexton, of Joplin, Mo., outside Ruby’s Family Restaurant in Eminence, Mo. “We had a great time at Circle B and Windy’s in Eminence, and also got to see Alley Mill which was awesome,” said Sexton, “but I think eating breakfast at Ruby’s might’ve topped them all!”

——— If you're going on a trip or vacation, please take the River Hills Traveler with you and have someone photograph you and the magazine in front of a landmark or particular setting. Then email the picture to us at jimmy@riverhillstraveler.com and we will publish it an upcoming issue. You can also text your photos & info to (417) 451-3798 or send them to us via our Facebook page.

We look forward to seeing your family’s adventures!

Richard Zane Smith, a ceramic potter from Wyandotte, Okla., said, “Recovery of identity is important. Our original ceremonies, like the Green Corn ceremony, were about Thanksgiving.

But when alcohol was brought into Indian life, the dancing was seen by white settlers as demonic rituals.

“This erroneously perceived demonization in Indian culture caused the Christian missionaries to teach against ceremonies which they really did not understand in the first place.”

I think he quoted Chief Joseph, “When the ceremonies and dances come back, then peace will return.”

The second artist’s words touched me and in my opinion, she nailed the argument. Her name is Margaret Wheeler, and her art is in weaving. Her tribe is the Chickasaw.

She explained she was born in South Dakota and had lived in many places, always with a combination of tribes.

She grew up with art on the walls, the flat pattern designs of many tribes.

Her own technique was flawless. But then with tears in her eyes, Wheeler explained she did not “feel” her art’s expression until she moved to live with her own Chickasaw tribe.

All artists have to make one very big decision: Do I paint for the market to pay the light bill? Or do I paint from my sense of expressing the heart and soul of the work?

After an artist decides which path to follow, the viewing public and the art critics get a shot at the artist’s decision.

In the Native American tribes, now, there is a sense of wanting to be free of the old ways, but yet to preserve them.

This makes for some very interesting

“Cherokee Princess” — This title and production is a humorous satirical statement about “white peoples” misunderstanding of “native peoples” ways. There never was any “princess” in Cherokee culture, but if there had been artist Kenney Glass thought it have have looked like this.

art pieces.

It is well to catch up with the art of Native Americans as they work out this conundrum in their tribes and communities. You can see this evolvement at the Spiva.

Go see the Spiva Contemporary Native American Art exhibit. The Spiva Center for the Arts is in Joplin, Mo., at 222 W. 3rd St. and is easily reached just off North Main Street at the cross street, West 3rd Street.

(Judy Haas Smith lives in Neosho.)

RiverHillsTraveler.com

Indiana bat

February 2018 • Page 9

ENDANGERED SPECIES OF THE MONTH

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mong mammals, few animals typify habitat fragility better than the Indiana bat.

Human occupation and the technology accompanying it have brought sweeping ecological changes to the North American continent.

Some creatures have adapted and held on. A few — such as squirrels, coyotes, and deer — are actually thriving in their altered environments.

Other animals haven’t been as fortunate. Their habitat needs are so specific that adjustment appears to be beyond their capabilities.

Such is the case of the Indiana bat.

There’s a good reason this small bat is endangered federally and in Missouri: It has completely disappeared from some areas where it was once found and is in serious decline in most other parts of its range.

In spring and summer, it may still be found in parts of Missouri, but its numbers are decreasing.

Several factors (all human-related) have played parts in the Indiana bat’s dwindling population, all exemplifying the tenuous connection this creature has to its surrounding environment.

White-nose syndrome, a fatal fungus that has infected bat populations throughout parts of the eastern and central U.S., has had an impact on Indiana bat populations, but this bat’s population problems go much deeper than a single disease.

One of the reasons for this bat’s decline is very likely its highly specific hibernation requirements. Indiana bats only hibernate in areas of a cave or old mine where the temperature is between 39 and 45 degrees F and the relative humidity is between 66 and 95 per-

cent.

Herein lies part of the reason for the species’ decline. It’s presumed at one time there were other caves used by Indiana bats for hibernation, but these sites fell victim to human disturbance and/or destruction.

It’s also theorized some hibernation caves may have fallen into disuse when conditions around the cave, rather than the cave itself, were altered.

The removal of timber, shrubs and other obstructions from a cave’s entrance, or the construction of a building near its opening, will alter the air flow going into the cave.

This affects the temperature and the humidity of the interior regions which, in turn, may upset the precise parameters needed for Indiana bat hibernation.

The species’ vulnerability doesn’t end when summer arrives. During the warmer months, female Indiana bats gather beneath the loose bark of living and dead trees in maternity colonies of from 50 to 100 individuals.

These sites, which are often located either in upland forests or along stream corridors, are the locations where young are reared.

Indiana bat have strong fidelity to maternity sites. Females – and their daughters when they reach sexual maturity and begin to bear young – will return to the same area year after year and often will even use the same trees for multiple years.

Consequently, when these sites disappear due to urban and agricultural development, the bats are left without a place to rear their young.

In a nutshell, the Indiana bat depends on having both a summer and winter range, and both of these ranges are threatened as a result of human activities.

Declining Indiana bat populations means a reduction in the numbers of a creature that plays a helpful role in controlling insect pests during the summer.

There are things landowners in Missouri can do to improve conditions for Indiana bats that may be in this area: • If possible, avoid altering riparian habitats and modifying streams. When modifications are unavoidable, leave at least 100 feet of natural vegetation on each side of the stream bank.

• Minimize the removal of timber from riparian zones. When possible, leave dead trees standing and only remove trees when Indiana bats are not likely present (from Sept. 1 to April 1).

Indiana bats tend to favor oak and hickory trees for roosting, but may also use cottonwood and elm trees.

If timber harvesting does occur, efforts should be made to leave mature individual trees; especially those with loose, shaggy bark.

If possible, continuous forest vegetation should be maintained around rivers and streams.

It’s important to remember that all species of bats are protected under the Wildlife Code of Missouri. Damage of hibernation caves while bats are present is also prohibited by federal law.

Information about Indiana bats and other bat species found in Missouri can be found at mdc.mo.gov. (source: MDC)

Gone from Missouri? ave disturbance has reduced Missouri’s Indiana bat numbers, but it has had a far more severe effect on an-

C

other species of bat in the state. The last sighting of an Ozark big-eared bat (Plecotus townsendii ingens) in Missouri was in 1968, which leads experts to believe this reddish-brown flying mammal may have completely disappeared from the state.

However, there are still survey efforts being conducted for this species in southwestern Missouri along the Arkansas border. Originally found in caves in Missouri, Oklahoma, and Arkansas, it’s believed the remaining population (approximately 1,800 bats) resides in Oklahoma and Arkansas. The Ozark big-eared bat is federally endangered. These bats are aptly named; their ears can reach more than an inch in length and rise prominently above their 3-inch to 4-inch bodies. Human disturbance of caves and wanton killing are the primary reasons for the bat’s imperiled status. Disturbance of the species during hibernation can result in direct or indirect mortality. Disturbance at maternity sites can result in direct mortality or a colony moving from an optimum site to a marginal one.

(source: MDC)

E

ndangered species are specifically designated in the Wildlife Code of Missouri.

Here’s the text from the code: (2) The exportation, transportation, or sale of any endangered species of plant or parts thereof, or the sale of or possession with intent to sell any product made in whole or in part from any parts of any endangered species of plant is prohibited.

(3) For the purpose of this rule, endangered species of wildlife and plants shall include the following native species designated as endangered in

Characteristics What does it look like?

Indiana bats are dark gray to grayish-brown and small (bodies approximately two inches in length, weight is between onefourth and one-third of an ounce).

Generally, these bats have pinkish tips on their noses. To casual observers, it can be difficult to distinguish between endangered Indiana bats and little brown bats (Myotis lucifugus), which also reside in Missouri.

Myotis sodalis

Indiana bats are members of the Myotis group of bats, which is the largest and most widely distributed bat group in North America.

Their range includes a large portion of the east-central United States and parts of the Midwest.

Where is it found?

Indiana bats are widely dispersed across Missouri during summer and highly concentrated in during winter hibernation.

They winter in limestone caves, preferring larger and cooler ones.

In summer, females form maternity colonies under the bark of live and dead trees in forested areas. Often, these colonies are found in the timbered corridors of streams and rivers, but they will also use upland forests near water.

Maternity colonies display high site fidelity, returning to the same location year after year.

Males, meanwhile, spend summers wandering over wide-ranging areas in small groups.

Some males spend parts of their summers in caves. (source: MDC)

WILDLIFE CODE OF MISSOURI Missouri: (A) Mammals: Gray bat, Ozark big-eared bat, Indiana bat, northern long-eared bat, black-tailed jackrabbit, spotted skunk.

(B) Birds: Northern harrier, interior least tern, Swainson’s warbler, snowy egret, king rail, Bachman’s sparrow, peregrine falcon, American bittern, greater prairie-chicken.

(C) Reptiles: Western chicken turtle, Blanding’s turtle, Illinois mud turtle, yellow mud turtle, Mississippi green water snake, massasauga rattlesnake. (D) Amphibians: eastern hell-

bender, Ozark hellbender.

(E) Fishes: Lake sturgeon, pallid sturgeon, taillight shiner, Neosho madtom, spring cavefish, harlequin darter, goldstripe darter, cypress minnow, central mudminnow, crystal darter, swamp darter, Ozark cavefish, Niangua darter, Sabine shiner, mountain madtom, redfin darter, longnose darter, flathead chub, Topeka shiner, grotto sculpin.

(F) Mussels: Curtis pearlymussel, Higgins’ eye, pink mucket, fat pocketbook, ebonyshell, elephant ear, winged mapleleaf, sheepnose, snuffbox,

scaleshell, spectaclecase, Neosho mucket, rabbitsfoot, salamander mussel, slippershell mussel.

(G) Other Invertebrates: American burying beetle, Hine’s emerald dragonfly, Tumbling Creek cavesnail.

(H) Plants: Small whorled pogonia, Mead’s milkweed, decurrent false aster, Missouri bladderpod, geocarpon, running buffalo clover, pondberry, eastern prairie fringed orchid, western prairie fringed orchid, Virginia sneezeweed. (source: MDC)

Page 10 • February 2018

RiverHillsTraveler.com

RiverHillsTraveler.com

February 2018 • Page 11

Washington State Park Thunderbird Lodge 13041 St. Hwy. 104 (south of DeSoto on MO 21)

(636) 586-2995

3 & 7 mile floats • Cabins • Camping Swimming pool • Kayaking/Tubing open April thru November!

Wanna go fishing in Missouri? Choose from over 200 different species

T

he rainbow trout (Oncorhynchus mykiss) is a trout and species of salmonid native to cold-water tributaries of the Pacific Ocean in Asia and North Amercia.

The steelhead is an anadromous form of the coastal rainbow trout, or Columbia River redband trout, which usually returns to fresh water to spawn after living two to three years in the ocean.

Freshwater forms that have been introduced into the Great Lakes and migrate into tributaries to spawn are also called steelhead.

Dana Adult freshwater stream rainbow trout average Sturgeon from 1 to 5 pounds, while ———— lake-dwelling and anadroEleven mous forms may reach 20 Point River pounds. They reached 1015 inches in size.

Adult freshwater forms are generally bluegreen or olive green with heavy black spotting over the length of the body. Adult fish have a broad reddish stripe along the lateral line which is most pronounced in breeding males.

The caudal fin is squarish and only mildly forked. Lake-dwelling and anadromous forms are usually more silvery in color with

the reddish stripe almost completely gone.

Juvenile rainbow trout display parr marks (dark vertical bars) typical of most salmonid (O. m. gairdneri) populations and cutbow hybrids may also display reddish or pink throat markings similar to cutthroat trout.

In many regions, hatchery-bred trout can be distinguished from native trout via fin clips. Fin clipping the adipose fin is a management tool used to identify hatcheryreared fish.

Rainbow trout, including steelhead forms, generally spawn in early to late spring (January to June in the Northern Hemisphere, and September to November in the Southern Hemisphere) when water temperatures reach at least 42-44 degrees F. The maximum recorded lifespan for a rainbow trout is 11 years.

Freshwater resident rainbow trout usually inhabit and spawn in small to moderately

large, well-oxygenated, shallow rivers with gravel bottoms. They are native to the alluvial or freestone streams that are typical tributaries of the Pacific basin, but introduced rainbow trout have established wild, self-sustaining populations in other river types such as bedrock and spring creeks.

Lake resident rainbow trout are usually found in moderately deep, cool lakes with adequate shallows and vegetation to support production of sufficient food sources.

Spawning sites are usually a bed of fine gravel in a riffle above a pool. A female trout clears a spot in the gravel by turning on her side and beating her tail up and down.

Female rainbow trout usually produce 2,000 to 3,000 4-to 5-millimetre (0.16 to 0.20 in) eggs per kilogram of weight. During spawning, the eggs fall into spaces between the gravel, and immediately the female begins digging at the upstream edge of the nest,

covering the eggs with the displaced gravel.

As eggs are released by the female, a male moves alongside and deposits milt (sperm) over the eggs to fertilize them. The eggs usually hatch in about four to seven weeks, although the time of hatching varies greatly with region and habitat.

Newly-hatched trout are called sac fry or alevin. In approximately two weeks, the yolk sac is completely consumed and fry commence feeding mainly on zooplankton.

The growth rate of rainbow trout is variable with area, habitat, life history, quality and quantity of food. As fry grow, they begin to develop “parr” marks or dark vertical bars on their sides. In this juvenile stage, immature trout are often called “parr” because of the marks.

These small juvenile trout are sometimes called fingerlings because they are approximately the size of a human finger. In streams where rainbow trout are stocked for sport fishing but no natural reproduction occurs, some of the stocked trout may survive and grow or “carryover” for several seasons before they are caught or perish.

Rainbow trout are predators with a varied diet and will eat nearly anything they can capture. They are not as piscivorous or aggressive as brown trout or chars.

Rainbow trout, including juvenile steelhead in fresh water, routinely feed on larval, pupal and adult forms of aquatic insects (typically caddisflies, stoneflies, mayflies and

aquatic diptera).

They also eat fish eggs and adult forms of terrestrial insects (typically ants, beetles, grasshoppers and crickets) that fall into the water. Other prey include small fish up to one-third of their length, crayfish, shrimp, and other crustaceans.

In Missouri, there are more than 200 kinds of fish, more than are found in most neighboring states. Rainbow trout require waters that are constantly below 70 degrees F, so they are limited to Ozark spring branches, spring-fed streams and Lake Taneycomo, where cold water is discharged from the lower levels of Table Rock Reservoir just upstream.

The Missouri Department of Conservation operates trout hatcheries in order to stock them as game fish in this state. Where trout have established self-sustaining populations, creel and size limits help keep those populations healthy.

Wild trout in Ozark springs spawn in late December through early February; hatchery brood stock spawn in October and November. Hatchery-raised trout grow faster than those in the wild, reaching 10 inches their first year.

With many different types of fish species in Missouri, there are plenty to choose from to enjoy fishing in our great outdoors.

(Dana Sturgeon lives in southern Missouri.

She can be reached at mo_dana@hotmail. com.)

Critter of the Month: Osprey

• Species: Osprey.

• Scientific name: Pandion haliaetus.

• Nicknames: Fish hawk.

• Claim to fame: These large raptors are well known for their hunting method of plunging into the water to snatch fish. Because of their heavy reliance on fish, ospreys can serve an indicator species for monitoring the long-term health of large reservoirs and rivers.

Ospreys also have an aesthetic/charismatic value to them which can benefit the eco-tourism of an area. In Missouri, ospreys can be seen most frequently in spring when they are flying through the state to nesting areas further north and again in fall when they fly south to their winter range in South America.

• Species status: Ospreys are found on every continent except Antarctica. They were once numerous throughout North America, but they experienced a significant population decline during the first half of the 1900s due to pesticide contamination of the fish they consume.

Ospreys were present in Missouri in pre-settlement times, although it is thought they were never plentiful. The state’s resident breeding population disappeared long be-

fore the use of DDT. Osprey restoration began in Missouri in 1995 when birds were turned loose at selected release sites across the state (one of which was Truman Reservoir). Through these efforts, it was hoped the bird would re-establish itself as a summer nester in Missouri.

Osprey habitat, which today is primarily in the form of large reservoirs, is more prevalent than it was during the bird’s original occupation of Missouri. Because of this, the bird’s future in the state looks promising.

• First discovered: The first scientific description of the osprey was written by the famed naturalist Carl Linnaeus in 1758.

• Family matters: The osprey is the sole member of the family Pandionidae. Biological families that contain only one species are known as monotypic families. This type of taxonomical categorization is unusual, but other examples can be found.

One well-known example is the walrus (Odobenus rosmarus), which is the sole member of the mammal family Odobenidae.

• Length: 21 to 24 inches to 8 inches; wingspan of four

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to six feet.

• Diet: Studies have shown that somewhere around 99 percent of an osprey’s diet is fish. A hunting osprey usually flies 50 feet to 200 feet above a body of water while looking for fish near the surface.

When the bird sees a fish, it hovers before diving into the water feet first. Often it completely submerges itself except for the wings. Once the fish is securely grasped, the osprey carries it to a perch or nest. In flight, fish are carried head-first so they offer less wind resistance.

• Weight: Three to four pounds.

• Distinguishing characteristics: An osprey is mainly white when viewed from below, with dark speckles on the breast, barring on wings and tail and a dark patch at the bend of the wing.

They have a dark brown back and a dark eye-line (a mask-like marking) on a white head. Ospreys emit a loud, clear whistle – often in a series and sometimes in response to other ospreys.

• Life span: Ospreys have been known to live up to 25 years.

• Habitat: Because of their reliance on fish, the main re-

quirement of an ospreys’ habitat is that it must be near water.

• Life cycle: Courtship and pairing occurs in early spring. Nests are often re-used and added to and, in the course of several years of nesting, can become large structures.

A clutch of from two to four eggs is laid. The eggs hatch in three days. Another eight or nine weeks is required for the young to mature and fly from the nest. (source: MDC)

RiverHillsTraveler.com

Page 12 • February 2018

At that moment, I realized... I had to kill that bird

T

hree tags filled and one left. I was sitting on my tailgate in front of my uncle’s tobacco barn in Montgomery County, Tenn., as we looked at the three Tennessee toms laying on the ground.

The hunt had been a dandy and like the year before while hunting my uncle’s farm I had bummed my right knee up.

Swollen and barely able to walk at this point, my uncle, James, was concerned about my knee. Cell phones had just been invented a few years earlier and my phone began to ring.

It was a man from back home in the Ozarks of Missouri that had given me a pass to hunt a super-secret farm on the Tennessee-Alabama border. It was on!

It was getting late in the evening and I quickly cleaned my birds and hugged my aunt and uncle goodbye and hit the road.

My road trip would be a straight line south, driving from one border of Tennessee to the next. I knew Tennessee was a pretty state but driving back roads through the heart of Tennessee that evening gave me an opportunity to see new country.

Tennessee is a beautiful state. It was nearly 10 p.m. when I found the farm. I parked my vehicle on an old road in the middle of a very large stand of pines.!

The wind and rain was relentlessly pounding my vehicle that night so I opted to pass on putting my tent up and just slept in my rig.

The alarm went off at 4:30 and I Richard couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into Whiteside this property.!Never being here ———— before I was at a disadvantage and it quickly became apparent as I stood before a four-foot deep ditch between me and the big field on the other side of the ditch. I had to cross that ditch.

On the other side of the ditch was a big, pretty field with a dominant ridge I later named Boomerang Ridge because it was shaped like a perfect boomerang.

Bitting the bullet, I stripped down and put all my gear above my head and waded the ditch in the night alone. It was a 160-acre field. Much bigger then a 40acre field and it wrapped around the the base of Boomerang Ridge.

In the night the ridge loomed in the distance and it became very clear to me how this was going to work.

They roosted on that ridge and the field was where they would head to (in most cases, I would soon find out).!

Making my way to the other side of the field to the base of the ridge I came to my second obstacle, a deep-cut bank creek that I would use to my advantage in all future hunts on this farm.

Really, the turkey had the upper hand on me because of my lack of knowing the lay of the land but it wouldn’t take me long to figure out that part.

One quick snappy hoot from my throat and the ridge came alive. At least six toms began to sound off but instantly I singled one of the gobblers out.

He was an odd-sounding turkey with an extra long gobble and he gobbled only a few times.!But there was something different about this particular tom’s gobble and I needed to get closer for a better hear of his gobble.!

He was roosted at the top of the ridge in the bend of the big Boomerang Ridge. As I inched my way out of the bottom onto the side of the ridge, I decided to wait for just enough light to see the ground for a better feel of my surroundings.

There was a minor shelf on the side of the ridge before me and strut marks were in the leaves, so I decided that was good enough for my first setup.

As the sun came up the old bird never made a sound. The other toms up and down the ridge had all gone to the ground to begin their daily activity and it was evident they had made their way to the big field.

All at once the big tom sounded off and he had a peculiar gobble, as if he was gobbling in a tin box.

For another hour this bird remained on the limb.

For me, I simply hate calling to a bird while his toes are still wrapped around the limb, but against my better judgement I made two soft yelps and instantly the old tom double-gobbled.

Anticipating him to jump off the limb and head my

direction I settled in for the finale when all at once the ol’ Tin Box Tom pulled something that had never happened to me.

He did a fly-by.

The rascal glided off the top of the ridge through the tree tops and soared directly over me. As I looked at him I could see his beedy eyes look right at me as he clucked really loud in mid-air directly above me.

The sucker pegged me. He landed in a tree over the edge of the field within clear view of me. I was stunned. Never had a turkey done that to me.

I had to kill that bird I realized at that very moment.

You have to respect a bird like that. Once in a blue moon a tom comes along that just goes against anything you’ve ever encountered and ol’ Tin Box was one of them toms.

The field was shrouded in fog and ol’ Tin Box kicked off the limb and flew into the cloud bank, disappearing somewhere in the middle of the field.

From the safety of the side of Boomerang Ridge I contemplated how I was going to kill that tom. I was far enough along as a hunter to no longer settle for just a regular tom and was learning to set my eye on the better birds in the area I was hunting.

I could have easily filled my last tag in Tennessee with one of the lesser toms but after having Tin Box fly over me and peg me, I had to have Tin Box. So how do you kill a bird that sits on the limb until 8 a.m.? How do you kill a bird that pulls a fly-by on you?

I spent the remainder of the day watching the movement of the main flock of birds and studying buck rubs and turkey scratching, basically just familiarizing myself with the home of these particular birds while they were safely out of site in the middle

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RiverHillsTraveler.com

February 2018 • Page 13

TOM from 12 of the field.!

From the top of the ridge I watched all the birds in the field. Seven strutters in all and Tin Box was clearly king of the flock.

That night I sat around my campfire alone and watched the flicker of my fire in the pine trees that surrounded me.

My knee swollen and hurting from the four days prior in the northern part of the state, my mind drifted off to a hunt in Missouri a few years earlier.

It was a fall hunt that started out in my tree stand. I noticed a half-mile away a winter flock working their way up the tree line.

Very quickly I shimmied myself down the tree, back to my truck and grabbed my long gun and headed toward the flock. It was a classic bushwack hunt in the Ozarks, is what I thought to myself!

I’ll bushwack the ol’ Tin Box tom from that creek if all else fails. That night I pulled a three-inch magnum shell out of my chamber and set it on my tag so they could get to know each other.

Without one, the other is useless I told them.

The next morning I stoked the fire and, knowing the lay of the land and having a game plan, I enjoyed a few moments in the pine and looked at the three-inch magnum setting on my last Tennessee tag.

At 5:15 I was about to lean over and grab my tag and shell when ol’ Tin Box broke the silence from Boomerang Ridge.

I took that as a sign.!

Learning my lesson from the morning before, I decided to not call to the old tom that morning!until his feet hit the ground. Standing at the base of Boomerang Ridge, I waited.

Something else had also sidetracked my mind. Across the field I could see movement, I thought. For nearly 20 minutes I watched from 600 yards away what I thought was someone erecting a blind in the edge of the field.

Through the fog I could make out something happening, I thought. From one side of the ridge a tom glided clean across the field in front of what I had been watching and nothing happened.

What I later realized was it was not a hunter and a blind, it was on old grain bin that had collapsed and appeared like a blind from a distance.

Your mind can and will play tricks on you while hunting if you don’t watch it.

Hoping ol Tin Box would jump down so I could work, him I waited. I was hoping and anticipating him to not fly into the field like he did the morning before. But he did.

I guess in any other circumstance they would have hit the ground and walked out into the field but the terrain

made that not so easy.

That big creek served as just enough of an obstacle for the birds that they would bypass walking and just glide out there into the field.

It was okay because I had a plan for that also this time. Can anybody say “Bushwhack City”?

Making sure I wore my knee-highs that morning in case I needed to navigate in the creek, I quickly jumped down in the water in the creek and stayed parallel with the sound of the birds.

Again, the fog was present but patchy this morning compared to the morning before. The hens were the fist to emerge from the fog toward the tree line and I knew that somewhere in the fog behind them was ol’ Tin Box. Dunking down out of site I maneuvered toward where the hens were within 40 yards. From the tree line I felt like it was a done deal.

My three-inch magnum was ready to make the thunder roll around Boomerang Ridge.!The subordinant toms were the first to follow the hens out of the fog and would periodically fan out, but with caution.

Being in the presence of a tom like Tin Box, a lesser tom will get his tail kicked really fast so they kept their distance from Tin Box. I waited and could hear my heart pounding in my chest through my open mouth.

It was time. Out of the fog was a site to behold, shacking and drumming the ground loose and in all his glory, Tin Box emerged from the fog in full strut, never coming out of strut.

He would shuffle and twirl, twirl and shuffle. Spitting and drumming as the fog shrouded him. With my long gun he was already dead and didn’t know it.

I could have killed him right then but didn’t want to gamble. I had the upper hand as he inched his way ever so closer to his first and only ride back to Missouri.

My long gun has killed many birds at 50 steps but those were have-to situations. I knew in another two minutes that he would be at 30 steps... 50 steps, 45 steps, 40 steps and he was coming on.

At about 32 steps I decided it was on like Donkey Kong. With a loud voice I hollered, “Hey, Tin Box Tom” and he came right out of full strut and telescoped his head up high and... time

stood still for just a moment.

With my finger slowly squeezing the trigger, the thunder rolled.

The three-inch magnum that set on my tag the night before was ignited and my long gun kicked. In an instant Tin Box’s head was full of #6 BBs. The remainder of the flock quickly exited the field without Tin Box. Tin Box was now in his death throws as he beat the ground with his wings.

The echo of my long gun faded off into the distance as I climbed up out of the cut bank creek and into the field.

Sitting down beside the old tom as the last bit of life flopped out of him, I sat and reflected.

With Boomerang Ridge in my view and my tag in my hand, I pulled the smoking three-inch magnum shell hull out and gave thanks to another day that the Lord had made for me in the hills of Tennessee.

(Richard Whiteside lives in Doniphan, Mo., and can be reached at rlwhiteside72@gmail.com. His blog can be followed at www.ozarkriverman.wordpress. com.)

RiverHillsTraveler.com

Page 14 • February 2018

Mother Nature outdid herself with Shaw Preserve

J

ust 14 miles from my home in Union, Missouri, is a little slice of heaven on earth. It could be called a photographer’s dream, a hiker’s paradise, or a plant-lover’s haven.

Yet, most of us who frequent it call it by one word, “Shaw.”

Shaw Nature Reserve is a 2,441-acre gem located in Franklin County near Interstate 44. I, as well as many other visitors, have Michelle Turner lost track of time ———— and place while walking through the various gardens, historic structures, wooded areas, wetlands, and prairies.

Over the decades, I have shared my love of Shaw with family and friends, and have also enjoyed the experience in solitude.

In 2017, I decided to purchase a yearlong walking pass to avoid the $5 daily adult entry fee. It more than paid for itself.

I am not alone in my love of Shaw.

Ann Gent, of Washington, Missouri, is a Shaw Nature Reserve enthusiast.

“Shaw has almost become a form of therapy for me. Whether it’s just me roaming around the flower garden for hours taking pictures, or my husband and I hiking the trails, it is the one place that never fails to reset my mood to a more contented and calmer state,” Ann said.

“For me, it has transcended from a local nature reserve into a place that

helps me keep my life in balance with the natural world.”

The Missouri Botanical Garden operates Shaw Nature Reserve. Together, they provide more than an outdoor retreat. Art and Plant Shows, educational programs, a children’s area, bookstore, and more are available to the public.

Open year-round from 7 a.m. to sunset, Shaw is an enjoyable place to visit during all seasons thanks to its impressive array of plants, geographical features, and more.

However, Ann prefers one season above the rest.

“It is so exciting in the spring when everything comes to life. Each time you go, you discover new plants and animals. I have found myself daydreaming at work about what will be blooming or what kind of insects will be active,” she shared.

Keep in mind that Shaw Nature Reserve is open to hikers daily, but the visitor center and other special areas may be closed on most major holidays.

Before you plan your visit, look them up online or call (314) 577-9555.

Also, if you are an Instagram user, you should follow @shawnaturereserve to see beautiful photography of this special place, as well as posts about upcoming events within the reserve.

I know that following them on Instagram has inspired me to find specific spots within the reserve to see for myself.

I hope that you’ll consider visiting Shaw Nature Reserve in the near future. It’s a true asset to Franklin County and the entire state of Missouri.

(Michelle Turner lives in Union, Mo.)

Preparing for anything while at the trout stream

A

few weeks ago, I woke up one morning and found that my outdoor thermometer was telling me that it was -2 degrees outside.

The one thing that I knew right away was that there wasn’t going to be any fishing done on that day.

Fishing is always on my mind at this time of year with all the holidays out of the way. I don’t always get to fish as much as I would like, but there’s not a day that goes by without my thinking about going fishing.

Hopefully winter doesn’t have too many more sub-zero days for us and spring is just around the corner… well, almost anyway.

Instead of referring to February as late winter, I always refer to it as early Bill Oder spring. It’s kind of ———— like the glass halffull thing.

So, on that cold morning that I was talking about, I decided to get out my fishing vest and check all my fly boxes that I feel is necessary to carry with me when I’m fishing.

I want to be prepared for anything that might come up while I’m at the trout stream because if the trout aren’t liking the first fly I show them, then I have plenty more all lined up and ready to go for them to look over.

I noticed almost instantly in one of my nymph boxes a serious shortage of a favorite little fly of mine. I don’t think this fly has a name, at least if it does, I’m not aware of the name. I call it a Caddis Worm since it resembles a caddisfly larva to me.

Whatever it represents to the trout, I have found that they definitely are attracted to it.

The fly is simple to tie and there are several variations as far as color and whether or not to use a bead head. I prefer the bead head in order to give it the weight needed to sink.

Either a brass bead or tungsten bead will suffice. Of course, the tungsten

will add even more weight for you.

Without a bead, you will need to add split shot to your leader... something that I don’t like doing.

My color of choice is olive green but sometimes other colors work well, also.

The micro chenille that makes up the body of the fly is available in several colors. Even pink ones have been known to catch fish I tie them on small scud hoods, either size 16 or 18. These small hooks don’t allow much room to add lead wire for weight, forcing me to use the bead heads. After tying in a piece of micro chenille along the hook shank right up against the bead head, I dub some olive dubbing material to the thread and form the thorax.

As a variation, instead of dubbing material, the thorax can be formed with a piece of peacock or black ostrich feather. Whip finish, apply some head cement and you’re ready for the final step.

After clipping off the end of the tail to the desired length, the tip needs to be seared lightly with a cigarette lighter to keep the chenille from unravelling.

Notice that I used the word “lightly.”

Just lightly pass the lighter under the tail and that will be all you need because if you put the entire flame of the lighter to the tail, it will ignite since the chenille burns quite quickly.

Now you’re ready to go fishing.

The fly is fished as a nymph in a dead drift fashion. I recommend using a strike indicator. Depending on where you are fishing, the bead head still might not be enough to get the fly down to the bottom forcing you to resort to some split shot.

This little guy works very well and feel free to call it whatever you want. If you’re not a fly tyer, I found some of these little gems for sale at Reed’s at Montauk.

On that cold day that I was referring to, I tied a half-dozen of these little guys before a nap started feeling like a good idea. A warm bed is always inviting when it’s -2 degrees outside.

(Bill Oder can be reached at oderbill@yahoo.com.)

RiverHillsTraveler.com

February 2018 • Page 15

VINTAGE OZARKS:

L

Dancing at an Ozark picnic, circa 1915

ocals at this hoedown appear to be wearing store-bought duds. Once the train arrived, Stone Countians had access to clothing just like the tourists in the Camp Clark postcard.

Some of the Arcadian resorts built dance floors and natives joined in with visitors. Distinctions between locals and visitors were not always clear.

Next month’s vintage photograph will show a Hall photo of a hillbilly lifestyle reenactment of the popular idea that Ozark natives were completely stuck in the frontier era. The word ‘hillbilly’ was first used in print around 1900 but did not come into wide popular use much before the 1920s.

Before that, the Ozarks, especially

Arkansas, were represented in books and songs to be even more backward than they actually were. There is a cultural conservatism to the region but it has been exaggerated for touristic and commercial purposes.

(This feature is courtesy of Leland and Crystal Payton at Lens & Pen Press, publishers of all-color books on the

REMEMBER WHEN From the February archives of the River Hills Traveler: 5 years ago • Last summer was perhaps the best fishing season I’ve ever had and I’ve had a lot of great summertime fishing in my life.

I must attribute a big part of my success to two well recognized stream fishermen — longtime River Hills Traveler writers Bill Cooper and Charlie Slovensky.

No, I did not get to go fishing with either bronzeback expert, nor did I call them for advice.

Instead, I read their articles and got to thinking and that led to one thing after another. I was soon off to the races as far as my fishing adventures went. (Greg Rudi Rudroff) • A little more than a year ago a Reynolds County trapper caught the first mountain lion to be captured alive in recent Missouri history.

In the 12 months since, the Missouri Department of Conservation has confirmed 11 more big cat sightings. The number of annual confirmed sightings continues to climb, yet the MDC holds to its story that the state has no breeding population of mountain lions. (Doug Smith) 10 years ago • I've often wondered what would happen if both of us had good fish on and we were being swept into something by the current.

Now, I know.

It isn't heroic. Eleven Point River, like all Ozark Rivers, was very low as we moved into October. Between Riverton and Highway 142, where Roy and I were floating, there was still more than ample water for floating.

But regardless of the size of a stream,

low water forces most of the flow into a narrower chute when you come to a riffle area.

That was the case this day. Instead of picking an easy way down through the shallows, we had to run the canoe pretty close to the main current if we wanted to keep our feet dry… and use some care if we wanted to keep everything else dry.

(Bob Todd) • "If I'm not there, you just go on and go,'' said Uncle Billy. There was a ring of soluble meaning there, made more certain by having just seen him making his way down the aisle at his grandson's wedding.

And by the knowledge that cancer had him in its scope. It is a genetic thing, I suppose. Men in his family walk with a certain stoop when they reach his age.

Young Jeremy may have it many years from now. Sons Gene and Booby, not yet. (Bob Todd) 20 years ago • Paul Cieslewicz, a Conservation Department biologist who has been studying walleye in Black River, says Ozark fishermen have already got a pretty good walleye fishery.

"And it is only going to get better," he said.

The Conservation Department has created a task force on walleye to review management that has gone on since the 1950s, and Black North Fork and St. Francois Rivers have been listed as highpriority steams for intensified walleye management.

On lakes, Norfork, Smithville and

Stockton are the department's top priorities.

Speaking at a seminar at the Let's Go Fishing Show in Farmington in January, Cieslewicz said the Ozarks of Missouri and Arkansas harbor some of the biggest wall eye in the nation.

Northern states may be known for numbers, but the big ones are here. (Bob Todd) • February is a tough month for many outdoorsmen. In fact, most become indoorsmen. However, that need not be the case.

Hunters and fishermen are attuned to consumptive outdoor activities, i.e. the taking of fish and wildlife. Both activities have slowed to a crawl by February.

February is a great month to turn one's attention to the non-consumptive enjoyments available in the outdoors.

Hiking, backpacking, bird watching, snow tracking, studying trees and caving are but a few activities harvesting something. (Bill Cooper) 30 years ago • He didn't say it, but I could read it in his eyes. We were crazy. That's what the service station attendant in St. James no doubt was thinking when I told him that we were going on a trip — on New Year's Day. I'm not so sure he was wrong. I'd always wanted to float the river in the winter to see the beauty of the landscape without the cover of summer foliage, and to enjoy the remoteness that this time of the year brings to the river.

Yet, I have to confess to feelings of apprehension as we arrived at the Current River gravel bar on January 1. (Mark Hodges) • My first rabbit hunt of the season was a real bust. It was the day after Christmas. The whole outside world was entombed in a sparkling chrysalis of ice.

Ozarks. Their new book, “James Fork of the White: Transformation of an Ozark River,” 354 all-color pages, has been published and is available at www.beautifulozarks.com ($35, postage paid) and on amazon.com and Barnes & Noble.

Their earlier river book, Damming the Osage, can be at seen www.dammingtheosage.com)

Not ideal rabbit hunting conditions, but I had enticed my 9-year-old son, Jayson, with stories about my rabbit hunting days as a boy on the family farm.

I began carrying a .410 at age 10, so Jayson reasoned that he needed some practice with his BB gun.

Chad Hegwood, my 10-year-old nephew, had flown in from Colorado to spend the Christmas holiday. Two new beagle pups at our house added a little zeal to the building excitement. (Bill Cooper) 40 years ago • At first glance it's not that impassive.

Using a topographic map for direction, we'd been walking through mostly bottomland woods for nearly two miles when we came to it.

"It should be right up there," I said, and the kids nodded agreement.

We climbed a short knoll and there it was. It looked like a large, old farm pond tucked back in the woods. As I said, not too impressive.

But as the scene soaked in, the reasons for Blue Pond being designated a State Natural Area by the Department of Conservation became more apparent. (Bob Todd) • Barb Bassett would be utterly embarrassed to be pointed out as a symbol as she crouches in front of a giant Canada goose, a bucket of corn beside her… but she is.

She's a symbol of progress of Design for Conservation, the program that is being financed by the one-eighth of one percent sales tax.

If there were no tax, there would still be a Barb Bassett, but not at the Department of Conservation headquarters in Jefferson City where she is the resident naturalist. (Joel Vance) (compiled by MyraGale Sexton)

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Page 16 • February 2018

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February 2018 • Page 17

Knowledge is a great thing when it’ s shared

L

eaving my stand for the last time of the 2017-2018 deer season I started my last trek off the ridge, the leaves and soil underneath were slippery due to a recent short-lived snowfall and I lost my footing.

As I started to fall I instinctively pulled my hand away from the trigger and held my rifle up to protect it.

It dawned on me this practice was drilled into me by my brother-in-law who, while crossing a steep creek bank years ago, had fallen and busted the stock on his rare Colt 20-gauge automatic.

It then dawned on me that every little trick I have learned, Roger Smith everything I do out ———— of instinct is actually a learned behavior passed down to me over the years by other hunters, fishermen, mentors, and most of all, friends.

As a youngster many moons ago I recall standing, readying my gear and preparing to enter the woods for a bow hunt with my uncle, when he stops me, tells me to turn around and as I do I feel a mild cool breeze hitting me in the face.

He pointed out that if we proceeded we would be pushing our scent right to the deer ahead of us and we needed to circle around and enter from downwind. The same uncle that taught me even when there is no wind, the natural thermal currents move up the ridge

sides in the morning and down in the evening due to the temperature gradient.

Something instilled in me many decades ago but has stuck with me to this day and is a common practice now.

Trying to make my way to a stand midday in the dry leaves, making noise no matter how slow I move, then another trick taught to me by an elderly friend who had spent years as an avid hunter popped into my head.

He explained to me that a man and a turkey sound a lot alike when moving through the woods, so I should make a few soft yelps with my mouth as I walk along slowly and to even stop and scratch in the leaves on occasion, I’ve found this tactic has put me on top of deer over the years that I otherwise would have never known were there.

As I started to introduce my two sons to the outdoor world I first taught them safety, then moved on with other lessons to help them be more successful.

But from the very first... lessons of always pointing their weapon in a safe direction, unloading it before crossing a fence to explaining the difference between territorial rubs and core area rubs.

I realize each of these lessons was in-

stilled in me at some point in time by another that held more knowledge about the outdoors than I did.

So, as I sit and recall all the many things taught to me over the years, my mind questions who taught the person that shared it with me? It’s a question that can never be answered but only imagined.

I can picture a group sitting around a campfire, a mix of old and young alike.

The young eager to learn as the oldtimers share their stories, listening to

every word hoping to pick up something to gain an edge on their quarry, or a safety tip, something to make the oldtimers recognize them as having passed that ritual and now being a true part of the group.

I now smile when my sons return from a hunting trip and I watch them exit the vehicle, check to make sure their weapon is empty, then repeating it right before entering the house, knowing this lesson started many generations ago, passed along and knowing they will one day pass it on to their own child or someone else.

I imagine when you’re out on your next hunting or fishing trip, you will catch yourself doing something and you will recall when and where that same practice was shared with you, and perhaps it will bring back a pleasant memory and perhaps put a smile on your face.

A lot of these people have passed through this world now and have gone on, but the lessons taught remain as part of their legacy and we owe it to them and to whomever taught them to share it with who we can.

Knowledge is a great thing to have, but an even greater thing when shared.

Sometimes we think we may have nothing to share as what we do as outdoorsmen is common knowledge, but we all have a little something to pass on to someone else.

Sharing this wisdom is generations old, let us keep this tradition alive for generations to come.

(Roger Smith lives in Bonne Terre, Mo., and can be reached at n0uss@ yahoo.com)

RiverHillsTraveler.com

Page 18 • February 2018

BAIT from 1 Roger and James make a weekly journey with their specially-equipped truck to buy their bait directly from a wholesaler and not a local distributer. This way, they can be selective in their choices of bait for their customers.

The main building for Customer Lures & Bait is a story in itself. Built on the edge of town, the building started out life as a honky-tonk bar and dance hall.

When you walk into the building you will find Roger Tripp, Sharon Martin, or James Brewington behind the original bar ready to serve you.

If you need a stringer, fishing nets, minnow bucket, cricket tube, or catch net... you will find it here. On the bar countertop is a display of fish scent attractant just in case you would like your bait to have more of an aroma than it already has.

There are even a few items for your boat, such as boat plugs, aerators, anchors, and the prodigal paddle. There is also an assortment of rods and reels, ultralight combos, crappie rods, and catfish rods.

The wall racks contain a collection of crank baits, spinner baits, bass jigs, worms, lizards, craws, jig heads, tubs,

PARKS from 1 Creek, upstream of Lake Taneycomo and the Branson urban zone.

The property also features 430 acres of Ozark glades and 400 acres of forest, as well as five bald knobs (hills bare of trees), and the historic Garber one-room schoolhouse.

The woodlands and glade along Roark Creek and East Fork Roark Creek contribute to the water quality and aquatic habitat by providing shade, surface and groundwater inputs, and watershed protection in the rapidly urbanizing areas of Branson.

According to MSP, the property had been operated as a ranch for much of its recent history.

Many of the plants and animals found on this property are unique to Missouri’s glades or are distinctive to the region.

Roadrunner, painting buntings, Bachman’s sparrows, collared lizards, spotted skunks, long-tailed weasels, tarantulas, scorpions and ringed salamanders have all been known to occur and some are common, according to the Missouri State Parks.

Some of the online comments include: • “This is historic property and should be treated as such. Minimal development — gravel parking, paths, washroom, trash receptacles. Wilderness parks are very important and combine with conservation state park land, and watershed protection in Taney County. Please do not let developers in,” said a resident in the Branson area.

“Ozark Mountain State Park is very important and significant, historically as well as environmentally. The preservation of the Garber schoolhouse is important to our local history and culture and closely tied to the Shepard of the Hills," said a resident in the Springfield/Ozark area.

“The park can and will be a economic generator for both the DNR and local economy. The Ozarks' natural area, especially in the Branson area, is disappearing at an alarming rate. This park serves as a representation of a beautiful and limited resource."

• “It’s really important to preserve this glade habitat. It’s an excellent opportu-

and buzz baits.

Another important function that is performed at Custom Lures & Bait is rod and reel repairs. They are an authorized repair center for companies such as Lews, ABU, Shakespeare, Phlueger, Penn, and Shimano. Most fishermen have their favorite rod and reel, and to have a skilled technician maintain or repair their equipment is very important for a successful and enjoyable outing of fishing.

The best value about its location is its accessibility to prime fishing waters.

There is the Fredericktown City Lake, Perryville Lake, Clearwater Lake, and Wappappello Lake. If you like to river fish, you have the choices of the Castor, St. Francis, Black or Big rivers.

There are also several state parks, such as St. Joe, St. Francois, and Johnson's Shut-Ins. Roger Tripp performs selective guiding on many Missouri state lakes and on some lakes outside of the state, as well. He has also developed a list of other qualified professional guides that you can review if Roger cannot accommodate your particular timeframe.

Roger enjoys seeing people having a good time and making memories that will last a lifetime. Recently, Roger and James took Sharon on her first crappie

fishing adventure at Wappapello Lake.

That day she caught her first crappie ever and with Roger’s instructions, caught many more. She also tasted her first crappie fillets later that day.

Roger is also a professional taxidermist. If you have ever considered having a fish, deer or some other trophy mounted, it would benefit you greatly to have a conversation with Roger first.

You will want something that will bring you great memories for a lifetime, so help Roger achieve that for you by following his instructions.

The best item on display at Custom Lures & Bait is Roger himself. Roger has to be one of the most knowledgeable people that I have ever met when it comes to fishing, angling, or whatever you would like to call it.

He has spent over nine-and-a-half years on the semi and professional bass fishing circuits. Roger has been a member and the president of several bass fishing organizations, including the Wappapello Crappie Club.

He has donated over 1,500 custom lures as prizes for various fishing contests for children. He is still connected to the members of the professional bass circuit. It is that connection with his tournament buddies, and their persuasion, that influenced Roger to open

Custom Lures and Bait.

Roger has an artistic talent that he brings to the fishing industry, and more specifically to his clients, and that is his ability to make and paint artificial lures.

That is one of the things that Roger, Sharon, and James enjoy the most — seeing the amazement on the faces of their customers when they find out that most every lure product on display is made in the store.

Roger will also repair and repaint that one favorite lure that a fisherman has had for years. This is something that he still does for members of the PRO/AM Circuit Tour.

The process that Roger uses to make the lures that he sells in his shop, and the custom paint configuration and lures that he makes special for clients, is a whole separate story.

Custom Lures & Baits is located at 1377 Hwy. OO, Fredericktown, MO 63645. The phone number is (573) 561-6957, and their email is customlurelureandbait@yahoo.com.

Follow the bait shop on Facebook at www.facebook.com/customluresandbait.

(Bill Wakefield runs the Traveler's St. Louis office and can be reached at w3@charter.net.)

nity for natural exploration by school kids, families and tourists in the Branson/SWMO area,” said an unknown resident.

veloped in small stages as resources are made available from state governmentprivate citizens and business. This decision may the most important for MO Parks in our lifetime.

• “I’m a natural resource manager, forester, and beekeeping instructor. I've lived and worked in conservation around the world, including Hawaii... and Bryant River watershed, it's the BEST,” said a resident in the Trail/Gentryville area.

"It's a unique place that must be cherished and preserved. I teach natural beekeeping seminars near Rockbridge, MO and they attract people from literally all over the world. People travel from all over the US, Canada, and overseas to see this area and taste the unique honeys that wild Ozark plants produce.

"Honey is really the 'flavor of the place' and Bryant River honey stands out and commands 10x higher price than US average, speaking to the quality and diversity of the vegetation in this area.”

a resident in Middle Brook.

• “You need to sell the land and use it for what it was intended, Asarco cleanup. Need to let people hunt hogs as they are tearing up our land,” said another resident from Middle Brook.

• “Please do not close or consider closing any parks either in remote areas or urban areas, both are vital. Please consider protecting every available source of water for nature, for recreation & future drinking needs,” said a resident in the St. Mary area.

"More campsites are necessary — it is often hard to get into parks for camping and shower houses are sometimes inadequate for campsites. When I travel to other states (and camp) and have to pay fees just to drive into a park (Minn and Iowa), I am very PROUD that the sales tax supports our parks and makes them accessible and affordable for all."

• “I am in favor and support keeping Jay Nixon State Park. Missouri State Parks are unique and accessible and important to residents. I would like to see Conservation groups, individuals and interested groups participate in management and upkeep of Jay Nixon SP,” said a resident in Farmington.

"I think schools could be offered the option of developing groups to help maintain parks. I work for a healthcare system and I think healthcare systems could advocate for the health benefits of our State Parks & organize groups to help maintain State Parks."

• “This could be a premier park in our area. We've had a cabin at Lake Killarney since 1976 and we retired here 2 years ago,” said a resident in the Iron Mountain/Ironton area.

"We have visited the parks probably a couple of hundred times, brought our friends & family, hiked the trails and camped in the backwoods. Jay Nixon Park has wonderful features and will be an asset to our community.

"Eighty percent of Missourians supported the extension of the state parks, soils and waters tax last year. We had over 21 million visitors last year. Please do not take away free public recreation from Mo families."

A full list of all comments made regarding each state park can be found at mostateparks.com.

Bryant Creek State Park The Bryant Creek property is located between the southern part of Douglas County and in total covers 2.917 acres.

According to MSP, it is portioned in two tracts: the 2,691-acre Simorg Tract and the 226-acre Simpson Tract, which includes a 50-acre pasture and homesite.

Both tracts are bordered by Bryant Creek.

Some of the attributes Bryant Creek features are four tributary hollows, 4.9 miles of perennial or intermittent streams, numerous sandstone ledges and outcrops, with overhangs ad wetweather falls, Coon Den Bluff, a distinctively tall and scenic geologic feature, and abundant wildlife, including black bears.

The property features rugged, steeply dissected river hills fronting Bryant Creek, a scenic fishing and floating stream into the North Fork River.

The property, however, is most prominent for its aquatic feature. The 1.7-mile stream flows through natural forests, alternating between floodplain forest and bluff talus. The upstream portion features a long bend around a developed riverfront forest.

Several comments were also made about the future of this state park, including: • “Sell all this newly acquired land and spend the money on upkeep and development of the millions of acres you already have and don't take care of,” said an unknown resident.

• “I grew up near KC and lived near Watkins Mill SP and went swimming, biking, horseback riding 2-3 times week.

Took my kids to Stockton Park multiple times/summer to fish, boat, camp. State parks are an asset to Missouri families," said a resident in Willow Springs.

• “This potential park is a one-time opportunity. The geographic and natural features will not be able to be obtained in the future,” said a resident in the Rogersville area.

"I strongly encourage that Bryant Creek be retained by the Parks and de-

Jay Nixon State Park Jay Nixon State Park covers 1,231 acres, most of which are in Reynolds County though roughly 100 acres of it lies in the northeast corner of Iron County.

The property is adjacent to Taum Sauk Mountain State Park and it shares a border with Ketcherside Conservation Area.

The key natural attributes to the property are the outstanding St. Francois Mountains scenery, a 50-acre lake with two miles of shoreline, and the park includes a portion of the Ozark Trail.

According to MSP, the property features a distinctive St. Francois Mountains forest and glade landscape and consists of two long ridges with a deep, narrow valley between a 50-acre manmade lake.

The Taum Sauk region is known for its extensive forest cover, which attracts migratory birds, and is home to more than 800 species of native plants.

The trees are a mix of oaks, hickories and shortleaf pine. There were opposing comments about the future of this state park, including: • “It needs to be sold. They use money that was not for the park. It was for cleaning up the lead from Asarco,” said

RiverHillsTraveler.com

February 2018 • Page 19

RIVERS from 1 low. River right is gravel flat and timber.

Spin your boat and paddle up into the back eddy. If this were a battlefield, it would be the kill box. The riffle has dug a trench 300 yards long. One side is 18 inches deep, the other, three plus feet.

It winds like a serpent, digging into the bank river left, until it flattens out and becomes more uniform. From start to finish, it’s all kindred-sized gravel, with sporadic depressions from the river’s chaos carved out like shallow graves.

At the end it turns hard right and will put you squarely in harm’s way if you are not attentive.

In each of the past 5 years we have managed at least one day on this run with multiple 18-inch fish. As recently as last summer, in early June, we caught a 19.5-inch, an 18-inch and a 17.5-inch fish from the first 200 yards of this run.

And I with the remnants of a treble hook in my right forearm. That one required surgery and 5 well-earned stitches.

Stacked Rock run — CreekX Alaskan Bush pilots call small, sunshine filled breaks in dense clouds “sucker holes.” They look great and make you feel safe, until you fly through them and there is more dense cloud on the other side, with no escape.

The hole above Stacked Rock fits this description perfectly.

Deep, with good flow and full of structure, it looks like the perfect lair for a big smallmouth (or two). Until, after 30 fruitless minutes of fishing it, you look beyond the house-sized sycamore stump at the bottom and see Stacked Rock.

I’m still not sure how Stacked Rock keeps as much water in it as it does.

When you are in the pool looking upstream you see three narrow chutes of water that enter the long, languid pool that is Stacked Rock.

None of these chutes are floatable in normal flows. The pool is a deep, lazy run with Volkswagen-sized boulders strewn across the bottom. These rocks seem out of place in the karst landscape surrounding the creek.

But brother, those rocks hold fish. Big ones. And more than a few of them.

If you’ve played the morning right, you’ll be in Stacked Rock by 9 am. Just in time for the last of the topwater bite.

You drag your kayak across the left chute, get back in and shake the peasized gravel out of your shoes.

Paddle up, slowly, and begin the symphony of cast, retrieve, repeat. You’re the maestro in this concert and you know from experience that with proper cadence comes results.

There is a Jetta-sized rock right below the middle chute that always holds a good fish and if you are quiet, he (or most likely she) can be yours for a moment.

The Gauntlet — Osage Fork, somewhere between Dry Knob and Davis Ford There are fish that haunt my dreams.

Smallmouth that when I close my eyes, seem as big as fresh-run Atlantic salmon.

One of these apparitions lives in the Osage Fork, about two miles below Dry Knob access. You enter the Gauntlet tentatively. Trees are strewn haphazardly across the creek.

Like giant fingers, they reach out and try to grab your kayak, threatening to spill your possessions into the current while you watch, soaked, as they float into the abyss.

You find the seam between the fallen

Sycamore, Oak and Hickory stumps, turn your boat to face upstream, and begin working the slot.

If you hit it right, you are on auto-pilot until the pool drains into the next run.

Miss it and you are correcting more than fishing.

Assuming you get it right, you are rewarded with fish on about every other cast. Most are chunky, 10-14 inch smallmouth that fight well beyond their size.

They seem to be custom-built for the river they haunt. Cast, retrieve, repeat.

Then it happens.

Your cast is good, the bait hits a sycamore stump softly, sliding off and into the depths. One, two, three. Bottom.

But this “bottom” is swimming up stream. When you set the hook, you know; big smallmouth. Big smallies do not fight like their smaller brethren.

Using their weight, they bore to the bottom and then head for cover.

And this one is heading for the big strainer he was hiding in when you so rudely interrupted his meal.

Side pressure, good gear and a lot of luck coax the fish into the small open space in the Gauntlet, so you reach the folding net you are so proud of. You know, the one you found at the outlet store that was marked down 75 percent.

Then you see the fish. Good gravy, that can’t be a smallmouth? Keep calm, you’ve been here before. Unfold the net.

Or at least try to. Dang thing is stuck.

Shake it. Still stuck. That’s a big fish.

WHY WON’T THIS NET UNFOLD!!!

Keep calm, he’s at the kayak. You got this. The net unfolds and then... collapses as you get under the giant, simultaneously knocking the fish loose.

And he just swims away.

Biggest smallmouth you’ve ever hooked and he’s gone, like a dream you can’t quite recall. You look at your buddy, who is trying not to laugh, and send your bargain net sailing, tossing it into the deepest part of the run.

Just like that beast of a fish you lost, it sinks out of sight, never to be seen again.

The Bridge Run — Finley River in Christian County, MO The slab bridge where I caught my first smallmouth has been replaced with a new, fancy high bridge. The remnants of the slab are resting in the same pool they provided passage over in years past.

I’d like to think that the contractor was a fisherman and realized they would make incredible fish cover, but that would be a stretch. Still, they do hold some really big fish, and help anchor the creek bottom.

Good intentions or coincidence?

Doesn’t matter.

This run is really two pools separated by a quarter-mile stretch of striated limestone we refer to as “snotrock.” In midsummer, you have to walk the bank. This stuff gets so slick it’s like walking on ice.

The upper pool, with the bridge, al-

most has to be wade fished. Park your kayak on the island and approach it carefully. It’s gin-clear most of the time, and the good, cover producing current is on the far bank.

Get below the bridge, cast upstream and expect a fish on every cast. It doesn’t always work that way, but you’ve been here enough when it does that you aren’t surprised when it happens.

Until this spring, the second pool was 100 yards long and nearly uniform in depth from bank to bank. The floods pushed mounds of gravel into the pool, shifting the channel river-left, and really decreasing the fish holding area you’d gotten used to.

Six years ago I caught an 18-inch smallmouth at the top of the pool. She had a gimpy pectoral fin and was missing several spines on her dorsal. Later that summer, I caught her again.

The next spring, again. And in 2013, 2014, 2015 and 2016. Same fish. Same malformed pec. Same missing dorsal spines. The last time I held her, she was 19 inches and change, still full of fight and closing in on four pounds.

I briefly had her hooked this spring, on the Thursday before the skies let loose for a week, and the pool was forever altered. When I close my eyes, I can see her massive tail as it made one final attempt at freedom and snapped my line.

After the flood waters receded, I took a walk to the pool and looked for Oscar.

I’ve fished for her several times this year, all in vain.

The romantic in me wants to believe she is still swimming, finding a still spot in the raging flood, waiting on Mother Nature to relent.

My realistic view is that she is lost. I take consolation in the fact that at her size, she was most likely 12-15 years old and had many seasons to spread her good genetics in the river.

Chances are I will tangle with her offspring many times in the coming years.

There are literally hundreds of good smallmouth runs in the Ozarks. We are truly blessed with a resource that continues to provide quality fish year in, year out.

These four happen to be close to home for me. I have a paternal instinct to watch over them.

Like the fish that we chase, they need constant care and feeding to survive.

See you out there.

(Ryan Walker can be reached at info@ozarkssmallmouthalliance.com.)

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