Family Outdoors Experience on the Big Piney River
In early August 2010 we took our "Family End of the Summer Final Fling Trip." Here is David's reflections on the events...
As we arrived at the put in point, I felt the hottest, stickiest air the midwest can offer. The truck thermometer had just shown a temperature of 96 degrees, and the air was so humid you could pour it in a glass and drink it. This would have been very bad news for the next couple of days had we not chosen to float the Big Piney River. This cool, spring-fed stream, besides giving us a great time, would keep us tolerably cool over the next two days. As we were pushing our canoes in the water I had one thought in mind, the same thing that just about always occupies my thoughts: fishing. The Big Piney is an excellent smallmouth bass river, and I was looking forward to trying my hand at catching them. My Dad and my older brother Daniel were surely thinking the same thing, while my Mom was probably wondering how she was going to survive two days of floating and camping with us.
So we started floating down the river, letting the slow current carry us through the pools, and only paddling when we had to maneuver through the admittedly gentle riffles. I was in the front of the jon-boat with my brother, casting to all of the good looking spots along the bank, catching a feisty smallmouth bass every few minutes. The river in this area flowed through a beautiful valley, with the Ozark foothills in the background looking either direction. The stream was gravel bottomed and clear, and I could see the abundant aquatic life of a natural Ozark stream at the bottom of every pool- smallmouth bass, goggle-eye, longear sunfish, suckers, sculpin, and other rough fish. It really is amazing to see the abundance of these fertile streams.
Then we would stop every once in a while at a nice looking gravel bar. My mom and my brother Daniel would swim, and me and my Dad would go a bit upstream or downstream to fish. When we were stopped, we got a chance to read the water more carefully. We would locate a good spot, fish it hard, and catch and release five or ten wild, beautiful smallmouths or Goggle-eye. The fishing was easy enough that we never really found ourselves wishing for a bite.
Then we would get back in the boat, float down a ways, continuing to make quick casts at the good looking spots, and we caught a few more fish. We also got the chance to see the wild river unfold before us, flowing alternately between bottomland fields, rolling hills, and steep, pine-capped bluffs. And occasionally, the river would neck down into a narrow, fast, log jammed riffle that would require our full attention. We saw a small, innattentive spiked buck watch us pass by with an absentminded, only slightly frightened expression on it's face. Around one bend, my Mom pointed out a tree that had 30 or 40 Turkey Vultures, apparently laying in wait for our demise.
Mostly the river was gentle and easy to paddle, but there were a few exceptions. We came around one bend on a particularly narrow, quick-moving portion of river, and found that the entire channel was blocked by several fallen trees. After a few minutes of scouting it, we found an acceptable, if somewhat adventurous way to drag through. We were glad to know we didn't have to unload the boat and portage. On another quick riffle we manage to get the boat turned around, and had to settle for going through backwards. Luckily, we made it through the riffle quite well in this unconventional manner.
Of course camping on a gravel bar was a pure pleasure. My brother picked one area of the gravel bar to shovel sand into, to make a nice, level, and soft platform on which to set up our tents. While we were setting up camp, Dad got the fire going and started cooking the Chili. Just as I finished setting up my tent, the Chili was hot, and we had the best camp meal on earth, Chunky Chili and Fritos. Once I had finished my bowl, I grabbed my rod, which was rigged up with a Crawfish Crankbait. I waded out into the river and took a cast, right where a fast, churning riffle dumped into a beautiful pool. After a few turns of the reel, I was rewarded with a hard fight and a 15 inch smallmouth bass. I continued to catch smallmouth bass until the light went off the water, then took a quick and refreshing swim. After that, I crawled into my tent and turned in for the night.
When we woke up the next morning, my Dad got out his GPS, and reported to us that the previous day, with all of our fishing, swimming, and lollygagging, we had only traveled 3 of our 14 miles. It was decided that we would fish and swim a bit early on in the day, and paddle through the late morning and afternoon to get to our takeout by dark. At first, things went well. We went slow as planned for a couple hours, catching some fish and just having a good time. But at a little past noon, we realized we still had about 10 miles left to paddle. The fishing rods were packed up and we settled in to cover some miles.
We paddled hard for 5 hours, only stopping once in a while to swim, which was a necessity rather than a luxury given the 100 degree heat. At five O'Clock, we took another look at the GPS, and we were a bit dismayed. We still had 5 miles left to paddle and we weren't sure that we could make it by dark. The jon boat that we were using was extremely slow, and had to be dragged through every riffle. Making good time just wasn't possible. Still, we pushed on, and by 7 PM, things were looking very good. The GPS said we were only 0.7 miles from the take-out point, as a crow flies. We knew the river wouldn't be completely straight, but we figured we didn't have more than a mile or two at most to the access. After another look at the GPS, things didn't look quite as good. The river took multiple horseshoe bends between there and the take out. We still had three or four river miles to go before dark. Finally, we paddled through the horseshoe bends and arrived at our take out. By this time, we realized we didn't have the keys to the truck at the take-out, and my Mom and brother had to catch a ride to the car at our put in point while we watched the boats and our gear. But finally, the shuttle was done, and we headed home from an enjoyable paddling trip down the Big Piney River.
As we arrived at the put in point, I felt the hottest, stickiest air the midwest can offer. The truck thermometer had just shown a temperature of 96 degrees, and the air was so humid you could pour it in a glass and drink it. This would have been very bad news for the next couple of days had we not chosen to float the Big Piney River. This cool, spring-fed stream, besides giving us a great time, would keep us tolerably cool over the next two days. As we were pushing our canoes in the water I had one thought in mind, the same thing that just about always occupies my thoughts: fishing. The Big Piney is an excellent smallmouth bass river, and I was looking forward to trying my hand at catching them. My Dad and my older brother Daniel were surely thinking the same thing, while my Mom was probably wondering how she was going to survive two days of floating and camping with us.
So we started floating down the river, letting the slow current carry us through the pools, and only paddling when we had to maneuver through the admittedly gentle riffles. I was in the front of the jon-boat with my brother, casting to all of the good looking spots along the bank, catching a feisty smallmouth bass every few minutes. The river in this area flowed through a beautiful valley, with the Ozark foothills in the background looking either direction. The stream was gravel bottomed and clear, and I could see the abundant aquatic life of a natural Ozark stream at the bottom of every pool- smallmouth bass, goggle-eye, longear sunfish, suckers, sculpin, and other rough fish. It really is amazing to see the abundance of these fertile streams.
Then we would stop every once in a while at a nice looking gravel bar. My mom and my brother Daniel would swim, and me and my Dad would go a bit upstream or downstream to fish. When we were stopped, we got a chance to read the water more carefully. We would locate a good spot, fish it hard, and catch and release five or ten wild, beautiful smallmouths or Goggle-eye. The fishing was easy enough that we never really found ourselves wishing for a bite.
Then we would get back in the boat, float down a ways, continuing to make quick casts at the good looking spots, and we caught a few more fish. We also got the chance to see the wild river unfold before us, flowing alternately between bottomland fields, rolling hills, and steep, pine-capped bluffs. And occasionally, the river would neck down into a narrow, fast, log jammed riffle that would require our full attention. We saw a small, innattentive spiked buck watch us pass by with an absentminded, only slightly frightened expression on it's face. Around one bend, my Mom pointed out a tree that had 30 or 40 Turkey Vultures, apparently laying in wait for our demise.
Mostly the river was gentle and easy to paddle, but there were a few exceptions. We came around one bend on a particularly narrow, quick-moving portion of river, and found that the entire channel was blocked by several fallen trees. After a few minutes of scouting it, we found an acceptable, if somewhat adventurous way to drag through. We were glad to know we didn't have to unload the boat and portage. On another quick riffle we manage to get the boat turned around, and had to settle for going through backwards. Luckily, we made it through the riffle quite well in this unconventional manner.
Of course camping on a gravel bar was a pure pleasure. My brother picked one area of the gravel bar to shovel sand into, to make a nice, level, and soft platform on which to set up our tents. While we were setting up camp, Dad got the fire going and started cooking the Chili. Just as I finished setting up my tent, the Chili was hot, and we had the best camp meal on earth, Chunky Chili and Fritos. Once I had finished my bowl, I grabbed my rod, which was rigged up with a Crawfish Crankbait. I waded out into the river and took a cast, right where a fast, churning riffle dumped into a beautiful pool. After a few turns of the reel, I was rewarded with a hard fight and a 15 inch smallmouth bass. I continued to catch smallmouth bass until the light went off the water, then took a quick and refreshing swim. After that, I crawled into my tent and turned in for the night.
When we woke up the next morning, my Dad got out his GPS, and reported to us that the previous day, with all of our fishing, swimming, and lollygagging, we had only traveled 3 of our 14 miles. It was decided that we would fish and swim a bit early on in the day, and paddle through the late morning and afternoon to get to our takeout by dark. At first, things went well. We went slow as planned for a couple hours, catching some fish and just having a good time. But at a little past noon, we realized we still had about 10 miles left to paddle. The fishing rods were packed up and we settled in to cover some miles.
We paddled hard for 5 hours, only stopping once in a while to swim, which was a necessity rather than a luxury given the 100 degree heat. At five O'Clock, we took another look at the GPS, and we were a bit dismayed. We still had 5 miles left to paddle and we weren't sure that we could make it by dark. The jon boat that we were using was extremely slow, and had to be dragged through every riffle. Making good time just wasn't possible. Still, we pushed on, and by 7 PM, things were looking very good. The GPS said we were only 0.7 miles from the take-out point, as a crow flies. We knew the river wouldn't be completely straight, but we figured we didn't have more than a mile or two at most to the access. After another look at the GPS, things didn't look quite as good. The river took multiple horseshoe bends between there and the take out. We still had three or four river miles to go before dark. Finally, we paddled through the horseshoe bends and arrived at our take out. By this time, we realized we didn't have the keys to the truck at the take-out, and my Mom and brother had to catch a ride to the car at our put in point while we watched the boats and our gear. But finally, the shuttle was done, and we headed home from an enjoyable paddling trip down the Big Piney River.
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