It is well known by those who fish with me that I am not the trout park type. I am not a fish numbers guy and I will take quality time alone on the stream over 30 fish days anytime. Generally speaking something about trout parks just rubs me wrong. I don't like fighting for water space and I am not real keen on catching a fish that was just released that morning. Now don't get me wrong, I am not against trout parks, I have many friends that love fishing them, and I think they provide a valuable service (mainly they are a great place for beginners to learn the craft and they also help keep fishing pressures on more sensitive fisheries) they just aren't my cup of tea. We all have our things, mine is just not trout parks, nothing personal. Needless to say I went into fishing the Roaring River with not the highest of expectations. However, I am also a curious angler and it was catch and release season only, so I knew the numbers would be down, so I decided to give it a go. The river itself is very beautiful, with the first portion forming a series of waterfalls and alternating pools, followed by a more typical meandering Missouri trout stream section below. By my estimation there were still a lot of people there, you wouldn't have been able to go twenty yards in either direction without running into someone and up by the spring there was a person every 15 feet. If this is low season I wouldn't have lasted ten minutes here during high season I am sure.  Furthermore it is worth noting that for the majority of the park wading is not permissible. There is a limited section where you may, but I had to ask a park ranger for where this was specifically. 

Anyhow, enough with the preface. It was a new place on a beautiful winter day. I fished and caught a ton of trout. It was a good day. Will I go back, probably not unless it is a side stop or I am with a group of good friends or family with whom the time spent with them will be the greatest thing of value. Between 8:00 AM and 12:00 PM I would conservatively estimate I caught 25-30 trout. I would cast just below the falls, let it drift into the pool and every third of fourth cast would yield a fish. The first four hours I fished one thing: a bead head hares ear with a very small green mayfly nymph dropped behind it. Around noon something peculiar happened, it stopped, the non stop action just stopped. My best guess is that after every pool had been cast to four thousand times that day the fish were just put off. I still caught fish but it wasn't like the morning. As such I decided I would just catch them on random things in my box, patterns I rarely fished or perhaps had never fished before. For instance I had never even fished a Royal Wulff, a pattern that I know for many is a staple attractor pattern, I just hadn't ever used one so I fished it caught a small trout then tied something else on and so forth. That is how the last four hours went until the park closed at 4:00 PM. Maybe 5 or 6 fish were caught in that time and it was just neat to play around a bit. Nothing large was caught but I did see two or three 10 lb+ trout. That would have been a riot for sure. Admittedly the last half hour I tied on an 7" articulated peanut envy streamer and chucked that at the bank. No follows or bites but one can always hope. 

Years ago I found myself huddled around a campfire with friends. Each of us were retelling our fishing stories of the day, undoubtably some stories more indulged than others but regardless the evening was filled with laughter, camaraderie, and visions of what could be for the next day. For myself that night was particularly special, only a few hours before I had just caught my first trout on a fly rod. All day I had struggled but finally after the sun had set and with the aid of the ubiquitous olive wooly bugger I was successful. Not a big guy but my first and I will never forget. 

What I remember equally well of that evening is several men talking about a small stream in hushed voices. They spoke of a place where the trout were notoriously difficult to catch, wild, easily spooked, and rich with color. Those that had visited this fishery emphasized that if you caught a trout here it was a real accomplishment and if you caught anything of size it was something to be particularly proud of. That conversation has stuck with me the past five years and the in my mind the stream gained a certain mystique, a place I had to visit and hoped I would succeed. A place where I could test my angling abilities and see how far I had come over the years. So it held it's place on my bucket list for years and when a good friend of mine invited me to join him for a trip there I had to say yes. 

I have always come away from my trips with Jeff learning something and this time was no different. He is a good friend and you would be hard pressed to find someone better to share the water with. The water was a touch low and gin clear and I have to thank him for graciously giving me the first shot at the more promising locations. To my delight we both caught fish and being January we had the entire waterway to ourselves. This trip was one I will remember for a long time to come. You can check out day two of this trip here. 

Tailwater's simultaneously offer some of the greatest fishing opportunities and some of the most frustrating. They can be exciting due to the sheer number of fish, the potential to hook into some monster trout, and the multitude of water scenarios with which you can fish. Yet water conditions often fluctuate throughout the day and regardless of planned generation schedules the powers that be often seem to have their own maddening sense of humor as to what they will dish out to anglers. As such, when fishing tailwater's it is always best to have a back up plan. Originally Jeff and I had hoped that unseasonably warm conditions this weekend would equate to low power generation and wadable conditions,  and thus we would be able throw large streamers for big Browns. However, water was up and we were confined to sticking pretty close to the banks.

I caught my first wild Rainbow. Yes I have caught many wild Browns and even Brookies over the years but never a wild rainbow. In large part this is due to the majority of the Rainbows in this area are all stockers. Now there is nothing wrong with stocked Rainbows, they for one make our fisheries sustainable despite heavy angler pressure--but there is just something special about catching a wild trout. The exception to the rule in the midwest is a collection of streams in Missouri, these are the key to wild Rainbows in my area. Therefore, with the guidance of fellow blogger, friend, and experienced angler of these waters, Jeff,  I finally was able to visit one of these and cross it off the long held life list. Fishing was technical and the fish were spooky. Despite, the limited time frame I was able to fish, with the help of Jeff's experience and guidance I was successful. To say I was ecstatic would be an understatement. I am sure Jeff would testify that I was grinning ear to ear thereafter. I only caught one but thats all I needed. A beautiful wild Rainbow. Surely I will remember this day for a very long time. 

Day 1 

Day one was defined by fishing in gloves, ice on the guides, frozen line, and me fishing far to high in the water column. It was frustrating for sure but as always I learned a lot from Jeff and it would help tremendously the next day.

Day 2 

The second day went much better for me. Weather was warmer, mid-30's lower 40's. Fish responded well to pheasant tail nymphs. Also managed one on a dry and a small Brown on a streamer. Fishing was a little slow but I still managed nine for the day.