The sunset on the western horizon was a splendid array of colors, from the deep blue sky above dotted with puffy white cottonball clouds to the brilliant orange of the disappearing sun to the dark skyline below. With the sunset came cooler temperatures, a wave of insect hatch activity, and an urgency molded into my spirit that I was running a bit late getting to my fishing hole on this late spring day. However, I also knew that I was going to experience the best fishing of the day.
The deep diving Rogue disappeared at the edge of the white water when I cast and as I started the retrieve across the deep chute the minnow imitating lure was attacked by an unseen predator. I set the hook hard and held on as the fish stripped line off my reel. I could feel the fish surging on the end of the line, trying its best to escape the sharp hooks before turning and blowing through the surface of the water in a acrobatic, gill rattling, hook throwing backwards somersault. 
The wire hooks held tight and the chunky Ozark smallmouth disappeared in a spray of water and made several more runs before I reached down and lifted it from the cool water. I held the three pound plus smallmouth bass up at arms length to admire its beauty; the dark bronze colored body accented with darker brown tiger stripes, iridescent sprinkles of golden-green scales, the striped cheeks which are interrupted by brilliant red eyes and the unexplainable white spot at tip of the gills. Awesome! I bent down, placed the heavy-bellied bass back into the water, and was promptly soaked for my generosity by the frantic departure of the bronzeback. No time to complain or dry off...more fish were aggressively feeding somewhere near the edge of the whitewater and the silver Rogue glimmered as it sailed through the late evening air before again disappearing in the white foam below the falls.
A cast or two later another savage strike followed by deep surging runs across the chute and more aerial backwards somersaults filled my senses, seeping to the deepest part of my being. With the adrenaline flowing I quickly used my needle nosed pliers to remove the treble
hooks from the seventeen inch smallmouth as gently as possible before stopping just long enough to admire it a few seconds. I slipped the tiger-striped predator back into the water to fight again another day and I continued probing the edge of the whitewater with high anticipation as darkness threatened to stop the smallmouth bass action for the day.
Again the deep diving Rogue started it course across the rock and gravel bottom of the Ozark stream and again it was attacked violently by an unseen predator. This time the runs were stronger and lasted longer. I could feel my rod bending in the handle as the fish stripped line off my reel. Daring not to pressure the fish too much, I backed my reels drag off just a tad. The smallmouth broke the water right at my feet in an attempt to shake the hooks that held it away from the depths of the river and the security of the chunk rock hideaway. Eventually, the bronzeback tired and I eased my thumb in its mouth, being careful to keep my hand away from the treble hooks. Though I do not normally keep smallmouth bass, I would keep this one today. I put it on a stringer in the near darkness and caught another fish or two before darkness completely shut the bite down.
To me, the smallmouth is everything a fisherman could want all in one package. It is widespread ac
ross the region, the population is dense enough to make catching them a good possibility, they are aggressive enough to not be extremely difficult to catch even though they are spooky in clear water and finicky at times, they are one of the strongest fighting fish for their size that you will ever sink a hook into, they exhibit spectacular aerial displays when hooked, they are beautiful to look at and are hard to beat when rolled in corn meal and cooked in a cast iron skillet in hot grease. Though I rarely keep a smallmouth bass, choosing rather to impose catch-and-release and am a died-in-the-wool supporter of the Ozark Quality Stream Management program implemented by the Arkansas Game and Fish Commission, I feel it is still okay for fishermen to keep a fish now and then. But on the other hand it takes a smallmouth bass four to five years to reach a length of fourteen inches in north Arkansas and I strongly feel that most of the time it is a definite benefit to everyone when we gently slip a smallmouth back into the water...even if we get a face full of cold water by a quickly departing fish in exchange. Good Fishing!
