Bennett Spring and Fort Osage
On Wednesday we went down our (mostly) annual pilgrimage to Bennett Spring. (We missed it last year, as you may recall.) On the way down we passed a place that had firewood for sale so we stopped. There was an old dog sleeping on the porch, so I didn’t feel inclined to ring the bell but there was a truck in the yard with a number on the side, so I called it. Spoke with a gentleman named John who said he was in “the city” (whichever city that was) and would be back around 1430. Since it was only 1230 I said thanks, but we couldn’t wait that long. He said the stacks of wood 2’ wide and 4’ high were $25 and that I could go ahead and take one and just leave the money in the truck. I told him I didn’t need that much wood so he said “Well, just take what you need and leave whatever you think is right.” I really love dealing with country people.
When we checked in to the cabin - our favorite, #16, built by the CCC in the 1930s - I had a long chat with Eric, the guide; what flies were working and how to fish them. Since there was no hatch he recommended cracklebacks. It was excellent advice because in the space of an hour, despite my amateurish casting technique that obviously amused one old guy fishing from the bank, I hooked three and managed to land one.
If I’d had a net, the other two wouldn’t have gotten away, but that’s how it goes when you forget your gear. When we went in to get the fishing pass for the following day I bought a cheap net at the camp store and when I mentioned that I had forgotten mine, the lady at the counter told me she just sold one to a guy who said he had ten at home - he also had a problem remembering to bring one - so I didn’t feel quite so bad. Anyway, this trout was my first keeper on the 100+ year old fly rod & reel! (I did catch a little lake trout when we were in the Adirondacks back in 2006, but it was too small and I threw it back.) Via the Internet I learned a technique to clean a trout with scissors but I also forgot my scissors so I used a knife. A little clumsier but it worked. Delicious!
In the bottom of the kreel...
Later that night I built a fire and we sat together on the couch, listening to the sound of a screech owl not far outside the window. Life is very, very good.
Woke up in the wee hours as I so often do and built another fire. The one from earlier was completely gone save for a couple of coals, the wood was so dry. My splitting kindling to get it going woke Kate so she joined me. We heard a great horned owl off in the distance. While I do miss going to the Adirondacks, I find myself very well compensated by the Ozarks.
We had forgotten to pack any vegetables whatsoever so we drove into Lebanon on Thursday to get some salad & broccoli. I also stopped at Dollar Tree and got some kitchen scissors. Hey, for a buck I might as well be prepared. Who knows? I might catch another trout…
Spent the rest of the day fishing at the spring while Kate sketched. In the course of the afternoon I finally mastered the technique required for my 100+ year-old bamboo rod and the Cortland Sylk fly line. (Cortland Sylk simulates the action of the old silk lines used with these rods.) It is a LONG wait from the back cast to the forward cast but when it’s done right you can really get it out there - it is a joy that is positively addictive! Good thing - while the fish were biting like mad the previous evening, it seems like all they were doing Thursday was playing fishy grab-ass. The only guys catching anything were spinning with a float rig, which really doesn’t work for me. Even though it may technically qualify as a fly, it’s still spinning. And as Colin Fletcher once wrote, “Spinning is a barbarous way to catch trout.”
Finally I hooked a fighter! It took a while but I brought him in and for all of me I could not see the red stripe of a rainbow. I sadly assumed he was a brown and let him go - browns must be 15” or better to keep and he was little better than half that. Later, looking at pictures of browns, I realized he wasn’t one. Ah well…
Another middle-of-the-night wake-up in the wee hours on Friday morning. At least I had prepared the kindling ahead of time so I could build a fire without keeping Kate awake.
Later that morning we packed up and went to breakfast at the Lodge. You know, for a place in the southern Missouri Ozarks, they don’t make a half bad Mexican omelet.
We went back to the stream so Kate could sketch the bridge. I thought about fishing a bit more but I only have hip waders and chest waders are definitely needed at the dam right before the bridge so I just watched. As I wrote two years ago, the worst day on the river is better than the best day in the office.
So we drove home, unpacked everything (more or less) and delighted in our own wee bed. While I loved the harder mattresses at the cabin, Kate did not and slept poorly even when I wasn’t keeping her awake by splitting kindling.
Saturday we got dressed in our 18th c. gear and headed off to Fort Osage for the Fete, aka Le Grande Fete du Chez les Canses. We had a wonderful time seeing many friends that we only see once a year at this event.
One of the ways we keep this event going is to have an auction on Saturday afternoon, proceeds to the Fete. We decided to donate some linen fabric that we’ve had for some time and will likely never use. The sketchbooks Kate brought to work in somehow got mixed into the donation pile, and while she reclaimed her “period event” book that she’s been working in for years, they were so excited about the hand-bound sketchbook she had made that she decided to leave it in. We were glad because it fetched a pretty good price!
That evening everyone gathered at the tavern for farkle and singing. We really love singing with our friends, especially Ed Wilde and the St. Louis contingent; John & Toni Hancock, James Michael Adams and Nick & Carol Kuntz. What a great time!
When we checked in to the cabin - our favorite, #16, built by the CCC in the 1930s - I had a long chat with Eric, the guide; what flies were working and how to fish them. Since there was no hatch he recommended cracklebacks. It was excellent advice because in the space of an hour, despite my amateurish casting technique that obviously amused one old guy fishing from the bank, I hooked three and managed to land one.
If I’d had a net, the other two wouldn’t have gotten away, but that’s how it goes when you forget your gear. When we went in to get the fishing pass for the following day I bought a cheap net at the camp store and when I mentioned that I had forgotten mine, the lady at the counter told me she just sold one to a guy who said he had ten at home - he also had a problem remembering to bring one - so I didn’t feel quite so bad. Anyway, this trout was my first keeper on the 100+ year old fly rod & reel! (I did catch a little lake trout when we were in the Adirondacks back in 2006, but it was too small and I threw it back.) Via the Internet I learned a technique to clean a trout with scissors but I also forgot my scissors so I used a knife. A little clumsier but it worked. Delicious!
In the bottom of the kreel...
Later that night I built a fire and we sat together on the couch, listening to the sound of a screech owl not far outside the window. Life is very, very good.
Woke up in the wee hours as I so often do and built another fire. The one from earlier was completely gone save for a couple of coals, the wood was so dry. My splitting kindling to get it going woke Kate so she joined me. We heard a great horned owl off in the distance. While I do miss going to the Adirondacks, I find myself very well compensated by the Ozarks.
We had forgotten to pack any vegetables whatsoever so we drove into Lebanon on Thursday to get some salad & broccoli. I also stopped at Dollar Tree and got some kitchen scissors. Hey, for a buck I might as well be prepared. Who knows? I might catch another trout…
Spent the rest of the day fishing at the spring while Kate sketched. In the course of the afternoon I finally mastered the technique required for my 100+ year-old bamboo rod and the Cortland Sylk fly line. (Cortland Sylk simulates the action of the old silk lines used with these rods.) It is a LONG wait from the back cast to the forward cast but when it’s done right you can really get it out there - it is a joy that is positively addictive! Good thing - while the fish were biting like mad the previous evening, it seems like all they were doing Thursday was playing fishy grab-ass. The only guys catching anything were spinning with a float rig, which really doesn’t work for me. Even though it may technically qualify as a fly, it’s still spinning. And as Colin Fletcher once wrote, “Spinning is a barbarous way to catch trout.”
Finally I hooked a fighter! It took a while but I brought him in and for all of me I could not see the red stripe of a rainbow. I sadly assumed he was a brown and let him go - browns must be 15” or better to keep and he was little better than half that. Later, looking at pictures of browns, I realized he wasn’t one. Ah well…
Another middle-of-the-night wake-up in the wee hours on Friday morning. At least I had prepared the kindling ahead of time so I could build a fire without keeping Kate awake.
Later that morning we packed up and went to breakfast at the Lodge. You know, for a place in the southern Missouri Ozarks, they don’t make a half bad Mexican omelet.
We went back to the stream so Kate could sketch the bridge. I thought about fishing a bit more but I only have hip waders and chest waders are definitely needed at the dam right before the bridge so I just watched. As I wrote two years ago, the worst day on the river is better than the best day in the office.
So we drove home, unpacked everything (more or less) and delighted in our own wee bed. While I loved the harder mattresses at the cabin, Kate did not and slept poorly even when I wasn’t keeping her awake by splitting kindling.
Saturday we got dressed in our 18th c. gear and headed off to Fort Osage for the Fete, aka Le Grande Fete du Chez les Canses. We had a wonderful time seeing many friends that we only see once a year at this event.
One of the ways we keep this event going is to have an auction on Saturday afternoon, proceeds to the Fete. We decided to donate some linen fabric that we’ve had for some time and will likely never use. The sketchbooks Kate brought to work in somehow got mixed into the donation pile, and while she reclaimed her “period event” book that she’s been working in for years, they were so excited about the hand-bound sketchbook she had made that she decided to leave it in. We were glad because it fetched a pretty good price!
That evening everyone gathered at the tavern for farkle and singing. We really love singing with our friends, especially Ed Wilde and the St. Louis contingent; John & Toni Hancock, James Michael Adams and Nick & Carol Kuntz. What a great time!