Vacation Success, Fishing Failure
DAVE’S WORLD
By David Howell
They didn’t let me have any bait.
The fish were always on their side of the boat.
I am out of excuses. The truth is, I didn’t catch a trout.
My son-in-law and stepson caught a few. Nada for me.
I’m talking about a family trip to Norfork, Ark., a vacation that included time fishing on the White River.
But first we have to go back a year.
I distinctly remember being outside doing something last Fourth of July, and it was hot. I decided then and there that we were going to book some kind of vacation for this year’s holiday, something that involved cool water.
I wasn’t necessarily looking for ice water. But that’s exactly what we found.
The water coming out of Bull Shoals Dam was freezing cold. And I’m talking about 30 miles below the dam, unlike the Spring River near Hardy, where the water becomes noticeably warmer just a few miles downstream from the origin. I’ve made plenty of trips to the Buffalo and Spring rivers, and a dip is always refreshing.
On the White River, I could only make it about waist deep before my body started telling me this might not be such a good idea.
The current was also strong. Apparently the dam was all the way open and the water was rolling. We soon learned that trout fishing meant motoring upstream, fishing as the current carried you back downriver, then turning around and doing it all over again. It was a little more work than I anticipated.
Vacation mode: Howell and family loaded their jon boat with two kayaks, a canoe and enough supplies for a stay for three days at a house on the White River. As one person put it, all they needed was a rocking chair and granny on top.
But it was a great trip and, hopefully, the start of a new family tradition. My daughter and son-in-law and their three young-uns, my stepson and his daughter, and my wife and I spent three days together without a single disagreement. (Except for maybe a friendly discussion with the wife. Just kidding.)
Anyway, we loaded up like the Beverly Hillbillies, putting two kayaks and a canoe on top of a big jon boat on a trailer, and made the six-hour trip to Norfork, Ark. We also filled the bed of my pickup. You would be surprised how much stuff a family of nine needs for three nights. As one person observed, all we needed was a rocking chair and Granny sitting on top of the pile.
The funny thing is, with trout fishing, kayaking, canoeing and swimming all available, the kids’ favorite activity turned out to be an old-fashioned game of hide-and-seek. We played for hours, sometimes the simplest things really are the best.
We ate well, floated the river and made sure every child wore a life jacket. We watched fireworks, enjoyed the cool evenings. Then we came home.
The vacation officially ended the moment I turned into my driveway.
The grass was knee-deep, weeds had somehow grown another foot while I was gone, and before I had unpacked half the truck, I was on the lawn mower in full attack mode.
Then Monday it was back to newspaper mode. If you’re reading this, I survived vacation—and deadline week.
