The Arkansas River – Tailwater (Valco Ponds Run to The Tree Hole)
January 10, 2023
Flows: 128 cfs.
Water Temp: 41F @ 10:30a.
Water clarity: Clear – visibility ~3’ .
Air Temp: Low 33F @ 9a – high, low 60sF @ 4:30p.
Hatches: Midge: sporadic morning hatch. Heavier from 2p – 4p. BWOs in the afternoon here and there.
Flies: #16 Guide’s Choice Hare’s Ear, #24 Harvester, #22 Red Zebra Midge, #22 Flashback Black Beauty, #24 Black Beauty, #20 Pheasant Tail, #22 Black Rojo Midge, #16 Red Pure Midge Larva, #16 Copper John, #10 Chubby Chernobyl.
Top producers: Pheasant Tail.
Fish can be very mysterious.
Sometimes I find myself scratching my head. Where are they? I’m searching and can’t find them. Where do they go? They’re not where they usually are. Why not?
When I arrived at the Valco Ponds parking lot on Tuesday morning – everything seemed right. For fishing that is. There was cloud cover and little wind. The air was a little colder than I would have liked – with the cloud cover, it was colder than the temperature registered, but not cold enough to throw the fishing off.
A good day to be on the river.
Bushes on the bank of Valco Pond #1.
The high was forecasted to be a balmy 65F. I was thinking it had a way to go in order to reach that high as I was walking from the car to the river’s edge. A lot of other fishermen must have seen the forecast and wanted to take advantage of the atypical warm January day. They were lined up along the Valco Ponds Run – the place where I wanted to start.
Even though the flows have been relatively steady – the water is still a bit off color – making sight fishing difficult. The overcast sky added to it. The river was inky and dark as I peered into it while walking along the bank.
The area below the sunken log was open and I asked the guy just upstream of it if he minded me fishing that spot. He asked me to join in and said that sometimes when fishermen are stacked up and with all their flies in the water, it can simulate a hatch. Hmm – never thought of that.
Without the ability to see into the river, I covered all the seams where I’ve seen fish – and caught them - many times before. I was fishing with my nymph rig – a #16 Guide’s Choice Hare’s Ear leading, followed by a #22 Red Zebra Midge and a #24 Harvester. Not knowing if they were there and maybe sitting near the bottom, I adjusted my depth and covered it again.
Nada.
My plan was to hit the small seams and pockets downstream from me as I worked toward Tom’s Run. I usually find nice rainbows and some brownies along the way – and I can usually see them. The water along this stretch is shallower and I like to fish it with my Hopper/Copper/Dropper which I haven’t fished with lately. So I was happy to get that rig set up. A #10 Chubby as my Hopper, a #16 Copper John as my Dropper, followed by a #22 Flashback Black Beauty and a #22 Red Zebra Midge as my target flies.
Nada.
Looking into one of the small pools I like to fish.
There are some riffles and small troughs that I occasionally fish below this particular seam. When the fishing is “on” it usually produces. When is “iffy” or “off” – it doesn’t. So I skipped over it and headed to the Bend Hole where a nice riffle feeds into a deep, slow pool. My hope was that the fish were laying low, down deep.
Nada.
What the heck was going on? I started to get a bad feeling. The conditions seemed right – the water temp was right. Where are the fish?
As I was working my way downstream, I came upon fishermen in the various holes. “How’s it going” I asked. They all had the same reply. Nada.
Mysterious – these fish.
My next stop was at the run with the tree trunk laying across it. The tree trunk provides cover as the water picks up steam flowing into it. There are some boulders there too – and together they form a nice, deep pool. I was thinking to myself – there has to be fish in here. Has to be. I’ve seen them in here before from the high, opposite bank.
Covered it multiple times – making adjustments as I went.
Nada.
The next stop was Tom’s Run. One of my favorite spots on the whole river. But the fish weren’t there. I hit the Little Pool by the Doubletree Hole and they weren’t there either.
There were two guys fishing the Doubletree as I waded back from the Little Pool. They were pulling up stakes and invited me to take it. We chatted a bit, comparing flies that we were using and wondering where the fish were. Nothing seemed to be working.
The sun came out in the afternoon - along with howling wind.
Normally I like to work my way downstream from the Doubletree Hole and fish the smaller pools, seams, riffles, and troughs. Some of them are overlooked by other fishermen – others are not. Quite a few of them were lined up almost all the way down to the Bridge Hole.
So after working the Doubletree Hole with the same results as the other holes I fished, I began to walk downstream. The first two places I wanted to hit were taken – the third was open. It was about lunch time, but I decided to fish it before someone else came along and did. But it was to no avail.
I ate in a sunny spot along the river looking down into the Bridge Hole. The wind was picking up as I sat there watching a few guys covering their spots. One of the riffle/run spots that is often overlooked was open as another fishman was walking along the opposite bank peering into the water. I was halfway hoping that he didn’t see any fish and moved along. The other half of me was hoping that he did.
As I was finishing my lunch, he walked off. Must not have seen any fish. I headed to it anyway. Maybe they were there and he didn’t see them. Always the optimist!
They weren’t.
This little gem that I was fishing is just upstream from the Bridge Hole. As I was covering it I noticed that the Fish and Game Department was dumping a truck load of fish off the bridge. Literally a truck load. Brian and I have witnessed in the past.
Looking downstream into the Bridge Hole.
Maybe that would change the way the day was going – but that wouldn’t be very sporting. I didn’t want to test my skills with stockers that have just be dumped into the river. Well – maybe if one of them took one of my flies….
They dumped the fish on the downstream side of the bridge. My next stop was the upstream side of it. Who knows if the fish swim downstream or upstream once they are in the water – but for some reason I wasn’t expecting them to be in the pool on the upstream side.
They weren’t. And neither were any other fish!
It was now getting toward mid-afternoon, and I haven’t had a hit all day. I haven’t seen a fish, spooked a fish, or even foul hooked a fish. To make matter worse, the wind was now howling – blowing so hard white caps were forming on the water.
The conditions were making it very difficult – effecting your cast, mend, and drift. I thought that maybe the Tree Hole would save the day. I walked that way ignoring the fishy spots along the way. I ran into more fishermen along the way and they all were mystified. Like me – NADA.
My spirits were lifted when I came upon the Tree Hole and it was completely open. My plan was to fish the entire hole, the pool above it, then the weir above the pool. Nymph rig in the Tree Hole and the pool above it and my HCD in the weir.
Got this slabby, 19" rainbow in the Valco Ponds Run. Saved my day!
Still nothing. Jeez this was starting to wear on me. Where in the heck were the fish? And what the heck were they doing?
I figured if I had one last chance to catch a fish on this day – it would be in the Valco Ponds Run. I was now about a mile and a half downriver from it and of all the great riffles, runs, seams, troughs, and pools between me and it – I thought I had the best chance to catch fish in it.
So I headed that way – in a bee line. I didn’t walk along the river – instead I climbed the bank and walked along the path above it. In spots I could see clearly into the river – and in those spots I didn’t see one fish. None. There were a couple of spots that tempted me – but I didn’t have much time left in the day – and ignored them.
It was a hike and when I finally got to the Valco Ponds Run there were two fishermen fishing above it. Position A was open and I took it.
Many times in the past I’ve found fish – big rainbows – feeding at the top of the run where there is a slight depression. That’s where I normally start. From there, I work downstream in the middle of the seam to the sunken log. Then over into the deep slow water behind the boulders. That’s my MOP (method of operation). There are nice, big, slabby rainbows in all of them.
Another look at this bad boy - with beautiful coloration around his gills.
On my second or third cast into the front of the run I had a hit. Yeah! Finally. But I missed him. Oh jeez! Would I get another chance?
Right after that I had another hit. And I hooked up a big, slabby rainbow. I think. He immediately took me across the river and into the huge, submerged boulders where he wrapped my line around one of them. Not only did he break off – I had break my line in order to free it. I never had control of this guy.
As I waded back across the river I realized that I had loosened up my drag last week and never reset it. I was cussing at myself. Not paying attention to details - that’s how you lose fish. If I didn’t catch a fish today – it would be my fault.
As I retied my rig I was thinking that at least this little break would let the run sit a while. Especially after I literally ran clumsily across the river after that last fish – splashing along the way. Thinking about it, I was actually surprised that I didn’t fall in.
After tying on my flies and adjusting my drag, I was now ready. I covered the top of the run again.
No dice!
Sticking to my plan, I moved downstream into the deep seam in the middle of the run. About midway down my indicator paused and I set the hook hard in an upward and downstream motion. Fish on! Big fish on!!
There was no doubt that this fish had some size. Where do you think he took me? Yep – right into the area where the huge, submerged boulders were. Somehow I was able to lead back out without any snag issues. With my drag now set correctly – I was able to get some control over him. As much as you can when fighting a big fish.
I now had him midriver, slightly upstream and across from me. Perfect position – but not done. He was able to take line out and made several runs. I was getting concerned that a knot may come undone, or my tippet may break. But I held steady and fought the urge to horse this bad boy in.
He finally got tired and I netted him. A beautiful 19”, slabby rainbow. What I came for. Finally! He had a wide girth with orange and red coloration around his gills. I was happy to have him in my net. He took my trusty #20 Pheasant Tail. I tie it plain Jane – with a little UV on the wing case and head.
Here he is again. You can see his girth and bright colors.
No one can completely explain the mysteries of fish. When and why they go to the places that only fish can explain.
But you can never underestimate the value of knowing the river and stacking the odds in your favor when they go to those mysterious places.
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