The Earth Poem

They found Puff the Magic Dragon on the shore at Hon alee
covered with the oil from the Exxon Valdez
As “Little Jackie Paper” rained tears from up above
God sent down sympathy on the wings of the dove

They found poor old Smokey Bear, in a forest that turned pale green
all the tree-tops were naked from too much acid rain
Oh, how the Rangers did cry for the poor old bear
God sent down sadness in the song of the sparrow

They found the Lone Ranger in a river face down
toxic waste in the water had helped the Ranger drown
and oh how Tonto cried for his kemosabe friend
God sent down the great eagle to help his torn heart mend

Superman fell from the sky, his face was burned bright red
that hole up in the ozone had killed Clark Kent quite dead
and oh, how Lois cried for her man of steel
God sent down a loving touch to help her broke heart heal

“No Virginia, I’m sorry”, but there’s not a Santa Claus
he went down over L.A. while flying through the smog

Oh, how the children will cry when they hear about St. Nick
God just bows his head, the spirit so heartsick

That old Sinclair dinosaur reminds me of “Puff”
road-kill all along the road, damn!, I think I’ve seen enough
Oh, how I fret... for dolphins caught in tuna’s net
God sends me to my knees, makes my eyes grow wet

Barry Shrader

More About The Derby

Sunday morning came and instead of going to the derby at Blue River I found myself going to work. I was out of the workplace by 10:00 a.m. and my first thought was I could make it to the river and fish for an hour or so but then I thought phooey on that. I did make the weigh-in because I wanted to see Susie's memorial award presented, take some pictures, and say hello to some of the guy's. I arrived at the weigh-in at 12:30 and the weigh-in would be thirty minutes later.

On my way in I crossed a small creek, it's one of the feeder branches of Sandy Creek or the Sandy Creek system. Sandy Creek is one of two feeder streams that serve the Tishomingo National Wildlife Refuge. The refuge is not only a wonderful fishery but serves as a resting point for migatory fowl. As I crossed this creek something caught by eye. There were two small deer standing in the mostly dry creek trying to water from the last remaining stagnant pool. I stopped and backed up and took a picture of one of the deer. It saddened me to think how dry the prairie ocean has become and it drying up more each passing day. This small feeder creek is only a mile or so from Blue River and that is most concerning. Now...this little creek may be considered an annual waterway but it's a waterway no less. Our water is slowly going away.



Chris Adams had a good day Sunday weighing in and winning the heaviest stringer fly fishing. Now Chris is quite the angler and I don't now how many of these derby plaques he has on his wall now...probably ten or more. You can always count on Chris to make a showing for the fly fishing community at Blue River.

Now on the subject of anglers I don't know if there are any that compare to the Flynn brothers of Sherman, Texas. For the last several years running one or the other Flynn's have won the overall trout derby and this year it was Shawn with over seventeen pounds as a total stringer. And...his brother Roger weighed in the heaviest trout for the derby.

And then there is Mr. Cody and with Cody is Tyler McColloum another fine and disciplined outdoorsman. When I look at these two young men I know I'm looking at the future of Blue River. These boys know what the words outdoor ethics mean and they practice it with a fervor.

The next trout derby will be in February and yes I'll be there. I'll buy a ticket like I always do just to support the derby and hope I can contribute in some other ways. As far as competing in the future derbies...I'm certainly going to try but it's not getting any easier for some like me. Heck, like I said last year I reached my goal as far as the competing in the derby with my name on Susie's award just one time. However, there is another goal I would like to pursue. I would like to see a younger fly fishing crowd join in on the derby competitions. And when I say younger, that is probably anyone that is forty years old or younger. Now that leaves a lot of wiggle room, so all you guy's and gal's born in the seventies or later be thinking about it. Carry on the tradition for the fly fishing community.

The Answer My Friend

For many fishing, the November 2008 trout derby on Saturday, the answer my friend was left blowing in the wind. However, there were a few that preservered the rough and raw conditions and made a good showing for the fly fishing community.

For Carol and I, our trip to the trout derby begin on Friday night to stay with Chris Adams in his camper located in Area 2. Chris is the most gracious host and a lot of fun to spend time with so we both were looking forward to our visit. As it turns out our stay with Chris, along with seeing some of the others like Ralph, Larry, Donn, Jamie and Mark would be the highlight of our weekend.



Of course we couldn't drive by Scotty's without stopping for a Scotty burger and as always Scotty's dog Dumbass was standing guard at the front door. Now, I don't know if Dumbass is one name or if Dumb is his first name and Ass his last. What I do know is that's what Scotty has always called him. Dumbass is a friendly sort and spends his days at Scotty's store or chasing cars. He seems intent on following Scotty to work everyday, chasing Scotty's truck when Scotty goes to get a visual at the river and then everyday when Scotty gets back from the golf course, Dumbass catches a ride in the back of Scotty's truck going home to await another day.

Scotty's dog isn't the only dog around Blue River. Lot's of folks bring their best friend.

After devouring our burgers we arrived at the campsite and Chris met us at the door where he properly announced that dinner was almost ready. And, the guys next door, whom Chris had met the night before were also cooking. Now the head cook of this clan was Raymond and Raymond was scurrying around the campsite like Ricochet Rabbit. I commented to Raymond about his busy-ness and cooking and he replied, "This is what I live for." In other words Raymond likes to cook and man can he ever. Two of his delights were campfire potatoes and fried catfish and then Chris brought over his game hens so we had us a dan dan dandy smorgasbord. Carol and I managed to woof this food down on top of the Scotty burger. We were tight as ticks.

Now, a lot of people come to Blue River for a lot of reasons. Like I said, some come just to camp and spend time with their furry friends. Other come to show their support for their favorite team, listening to the game on the radio or watching it on the boob tube. Then...there are some that get to Blue River is a different fashion. I've seen a lot of things on Blue River in the years past but I believe this is the first time I ever saw anyone go camping and bring their eighteen wheeler. Different strokes, right?

For Carol and I the derby was a short lived affair. The wind was really bitter and Carol's hand just simply couldn't take it. She would end up in the prairie schooner or next to a campfire most of the day and I pretty well stayed with her. I kept telling myself that Sunday would be a better day but Sunday would never come for me because of a phone call I received telling me to come to work Sunday morning. That's okay though, I'm thankful to have a job.

My litte buddy Cody did okay for himself and I got to watch him land this bow. As a matter of fact I was helping Cody scout three big bows in a particular stretch of water. Donn Rist and his grandson had also made it to this place and got to watch Cody battle the bow. I told Donn there were two more bows left and he decided to fish for them but another angler almost walked on top of Donn trying to get there first. This angler took the second bow and then I left to let Donn have his try. Donn got the third one!!! Donn's bow weighed four pounds four ounces and would win him the heavy trout fly fishing award for Saturday and was just four ounces shy of being the heaviest trout caught all weekend. Congrats Donn!

The sun popped out late Saturday afternoon but the north wind was still bitterly cold

The river was clear as a bell but quite low. I heard a large number of people comment on how low the river has become and this can effect your fishing if you're use to fishing a particular stretch a particular way.

Like I said, Carol and I had planned on fishing the flats but the flats were a very popular place all day long as you can see by this picture.

Donn Rist and his grandson started fishing at Seventeen and I checked Seventeen out where I saw the two of them. But, I do believe the wind was worse here compared to any other place on the river. It was whitecaps I tell you.

My rod stayed under the windshield wiper more than in my hand Saturday. That's fishing for you sometimes.

Chris Adams decided to fish below Chimney Falls on the far side and the fishing for Chris was quite slow. However, he did manage four bows for the day and that included stopping for breakfast and then taking a morning nap. Not bad Chris.

Larry and his running mate Ralph, both from Gainseville joined Chris at Chimney Falls and the fishing was slow for both of them also. I did see Larry take a bow on a sparkle pupa I believe.

No, that's not the Uni-bomber...that's Ralph James.

Although the fishing was slow for most there was one fly fisher that had a good day, a very good day. I saw this chap early in the morning standing chest deep in the river at the sandbar. I do believe he stood there all day until the weigh-in at 3:00 p.m. Ted Meador is from Denton, Texas and he weighed in the heaviest stringer fly fishing with five pounds and six ounces. Congratulations to Ted!

Call For Action

I want you to look at the pictures above. The top picture is the upper end of Seventeen down in Area 1 at Blue River. You see those protruding rocks? Well...you're not suppose to see them. Normally there is water over those rocks sufficient enough to cover a fellow's ankle or higher while wading.

Now...take a look at the second picture...that's Horseshoe Falls. Notice anything strange about that "falls"? Yeah, you got it...there's no friggin' water comng over it.

In the last two weeks I have noticed some disturbing differences in our beloved little Blue, so once again I'm goin' to climb back on the soap box, dress in my drama queen fashion, piss a bunch of you off and if I do I don't really give a hoot, because I will fight for this river until my dying breath.

Blue, along with many of our natural streams, are in trouble.

Before I posted this blog, I checked the streamflow of Blue and currently she is running at 22 cubic feet per second. Over seventy-two years of record the normal streamflow is 59 cubic feet per second. If you check the mean the "mean" shows a factor of 302 but you can't check the record of the "mean", which I assure you has lowered over the years.

We're slowly losing our river and I will argue that fact with anyone, anyday, anytime. And why are we losing our river? Is it drought...yes. Is it demand...oh hell yeah? Do the two interact or have some relation in all of this. Well no shit Sherlock. And that is a big part of the problem.

Oklahoma is currently trying to come up with a statewide water plan for the next fifty years. Will they factor in the relationship between drought and demand, the needs of our natural environment to stay intact and healthy, or will we just sell out?

I'm not waiting on the water plan. I want something done now and this is why I call for action from our community of outdoorspeople. It's our to lose guys and gals! Let's don't lose it, let us all take the time to send a short concern via this electronic medium we have come to rely on. And let our message, although blended, come together as one great recipe that will solidify our resolve to save our natural areas.

Here are some contacts and I hope each of you will send a short concern for Blue River and the Arbuckle Simpson Aquifer.

Oklahoma Water Resources Board
http://www.owrb.ok.gov/util/comments.php

State Representative Paul Roan
paulroan@okhouse.gov

State Senator J. Paul Gumm
gumm@oksenate.gov

State Representative Wes Hillard
weshillard@okhouse.gov

Oklahoma Department Of Wildlife
info@odwc.state.ok.us

Citizens For The Protection Of The Arbuckle Simpson
cpasa@cpasa.net

Thanks,

Barry

Lights, Camera, Action!

Ralph James, Chris Adams, and yours truly met on the river Blue today to try our hands at pulling off a video performance tying flies and sharing our fondness for Blue River.

This project is a test project to see how things would go and if there is a potential in video production about fly-fishing Blue River that could prove as a way to raise money for the Oklahoma Department of Wildlife.

Videographer Gary Walker of Durant, Oklahoma was enlisted and met us at Scotty's at noon. Soon my daughter Mercy would arrive and Mercy's assignment was to take stills that we can use for the dvd jewel case.

Ralph started things off tying two of his favorite flies the red midge larva, and a fly he calls silverside. Soon after Ralph heard "we're rolling", it became obivious to all of us making the video it's not as easy as it looks. Lighting was a major concern as noise control and with the traffic on Blue River this weekend and the wind blowing at 10-15 mph the noise factor became a major obstacle. However, Ralph being the trooper he is got through his two flies in natural fashion. Ralph is a natural.

Then Chris was up and by the time it was Chris's time to tie the sun had changed and we had to move everything to do his shoot. Now Chris is a very technical and methodical tyer and he chose two nymph patterns to tie and he does a very good job on these patterns. And if we didn't have enough noise to deal with it seems Ralph scared up an armadillo from under his chair and the dillo started rustling through the leaves headed toward Chris and the tying table right in the middle of Chris's second pattern. It was a hoot to watch and Chris never realized what was going on.

Then it came my turn to tie and I planned ahead by selecting two simple and quick ties. One was the skinny bodied bugger that has blue lateral lines and the other being a simple size 20 black midge pattern. It was one, two, three, and I was pretty well done.

Next up was the up close and personal clips of the three of us telling about our fly fishing on Blue and sharing our love and concerns for this river.

Now with that done we simply needed some footage of the river itself so we could run opening and closing credits and you would think this would be a simple task wouldn't you. Well it wasn't because you can't have any other person in your video production without their consent and there was people all over the crossing but anyhow we figured it out.

Honestly I thought this whole project would take less than two hours but we ended up spending four hours plus trying to pull this thing off.

If it looks good on dvd there will be future projects.

This DVD will have the title of "On The River Blue" subtitle "Six Great Trout Flies".

We'll see how it goes.

Barry

Slinging Streamers In Solitude

It was thirty-eight degrees when I stepped out of the prairie schooner this morning to line my rod. At 7:15 this morning I arrived at the cow pen or horse corral or whatever it is on my way to the delayed harvest catch and release area on the upper end of Blue River. Today's trip would be only my third since this area's inception and only my second chance to actually fish it.

As I tied on the barb-less bugger I suddenly realized that I had dressed quite lightly for the early morning chill but figured the walk would warm me up a bit. I struck out.

Along the trail I begin noticing the planting fields that Matt and his crew have established. They are plowed areas that look to be planted in a winter grass....quite green actually. I passed one, then the second one, and as I strolled past the third something big and black caught the corner of my eye. My first thought was, "What's a cow doing up here?" However, it wasn't a cow...it was one big ass black wild hog. Now, when I say big ass hog I'm not exaggerating. This hog had to go three hundred pounds! I was about one hundred yards up trail from hog so I grabbed my camera wanting a "close-up" but I was as close as I dared to get. I snapped the picture and as I was looking at hog, hog was looking at me so I decided it was best to head up the trail. As I walked up trail, often turning to see where hog was, I kept watching for trees I could scale and I guarantee you there wasn't a single tree I couldn't scale in short order if ole hog had came my way. And...I would have scaled yon tree in world record time.

I've never been a hunter but if I ever start I'll hunt wild hogs. There are a load of them around this country and they absolutely tear up jack wherever they decide too.

As I continued to walk my hands started to sting some so I kept changing rod carrying hands and sticking my free hand inside my waders next to the ole beer paunch which I have come by quite honestly by purpose.

Another ten minutes or so I arrive at the Catch & Release Area proper. I am looking for a particular spot...one that Donny Carter had sent me a picture of a couple of days prior. After fumbling and stumbling around for thirty minutes or so I find that sweet spot and cast a line. I missed the first three, four, or five strikes but then land a fat and fiesty bow. I have to tell ya guys, these bows have shoulders. The highlight of my day would come with my third bow and this fellar was a golden. She was a beautiful little fish and as I tried to ease my camera out of the waders while holding the golden at the edge of the falls she slipped off that barb-less hook. Adieu pretty golden girl.

I would end up staying in the Catch & Release area about an hour and a half and manage a dozen or so healthy bows. The wind was as still as a mill pond early but as the forecasters predicted the Gods of blow raised their voices and the leaves started falling into the mirror of reflection they had dangled for so long. It was time for me to go.

I decided to go see Scotty and how he was motivating and then visit sweet Seventeen in the campground area. Upon arriving at Seventeen I was somewhat taken back because this is as poorly as I have ever seen this little pool. I saw outcrops of rocks that I had never seen before and took some pictures just so I could remember this particular experience. Shortly after wading into Seventeen it became apparent she was void of trout. With my sunglasses I could see every single pocket and pool and there simply wasn't any trout holding. It was almost noon and I decided to return home to await a better day to court Seventeen. Today was the first time visiting her since I lost my pal Smokey and he was heavy on my mind.

It was a good day. I was able to sling streamers in solitude at the Catch & Release and my entire time there I was the sole fisherman. I did meet three gentlemen from Texas on the way out and they asked, "How's the water upstream?" I simply replied, "You'll have fun."

I hope they did.

Get-Together and Brethen Of The Big Ass Campfire Bullshiters

The Blue River Fly-Fishers gathered on November 1st, 2008 for a most delightful get-together along the banks of Lady Blue.

Actually, this meeting had been in plans for a couple of months and came to gain some reality last Tuesday when Ralph Fullenwider pulled the Ruff Diamond into the parking lot of Blue River. Ralph had come early to secure the group a spot and ole Ralph did just that by getting the beautiful camping area known as Area 2. Yours truly got to the river proper on Thursday pitching the tent and making a second run for more camping stuff. Chris Adams arrived soon afterwards but found himself having to return to Denison to take care of some business matters. Ralph F. held his post while everyone else was busy trying to get to the river.

On Friday, Chris returned to the river as I, and by that time Ralph James and Larry Simpson had arrived. At 2 p.m. on the dot, as he said he would, Vernon Forrester arrived with his vast array of Dutch Ovens. Later that afternoon David Dillow and his furry friend Bree sailed into the river with a pickup load of firewood that certainly proved to be the fodder for the forming of the Circle of Big Ass Campfire Bullshiters Conclave.

Now, this Circle of Brethen Bullshiters came about sometime in the Friday p.m. and if I remember correctly there was David Dillow, Larry Simpson, Chris Adams, Vernon Forrester, Ralph Fullenwider, Harold Beck, Carol Radford, myself, Bree, Blue, and then there was Ralph James who decided to hold high court in this Circle of stories from years past and unbelievable events. As the bullshit got thicker I kept watching for incoming vehicles because we were expecting Jeff Joseph to arrive from Prosper, Texas at 8 p.m. Turns out Jeff was running a little late and arrived at 9 p.m. with son Ben in tow. Hey...if you haven't met these two guys you are in for a treat. Jeff and Ben are two of the most delightful guys you'll ever meet on Blue River. And, with the arrival of Jeff and Ben the "Circle" grew and the bullshit got deeper. Soon thereafter, Laura Adams would arrive to join Chris and Laura was somewhat tired after putting in one of those long days at Mom's Bakery in Dension. Miss Carol was delighted to see Laura since she had been the only girl subject to the bullshiter's onslaught and being "just one of the guys". But, on a personal note Miss Carol sends a message to all the hairy leg guys of the conclave and Miss Carol loves spending time with all of you.

It must have been around midnight when the bullshit just got too deep and some of us found ourselves troubled in the wading so we started phasing the cirlce out and retiring to our campsites for the night. Now, I really know how it came about but somehow I seemed to be appointed "keeper" of the flame of the conclave of bullshiters and I tried to step up to that task dutifully by burning half that rick of wood David had delivered.

After about four hours of sleep I awoke to see the familar flickering of our Circle fire and my immediate thought was that David Dillow had arose early and had the fire continuing. It was four a.m. Saturday morning and I rolled my ole butt off the air mattress and donned by campfire perfumed jeans and shirt to join David. Well, David was still sound asleep...the campfire had continue to burn all night on it's own which seem to send some kind of almost divine message to me that said..."Keep the Circle of Bullshiter's Fire Going". So, I did...burning about another quarter of a rick of wood.

Daylight comes. With the announcement of opening day I am in my waders, rod in tow, headed for the crossing at Area 1. I am so rusty, not having made a cast in four months, I forget all kinds of essesntial things like tippet, but I am called by the flats below the island. I arrive at the stepping off point just above the island and find another angler in wait. I politely ask him if he prefers to fish the ledge and he quickly answers yes and I respond by telling him I will go downstream from him. He seems to indicate okay but doesn't move out of my way so I step around him and take one step into Lady Blue. Now, it's been several months since I've been to visit the Lady and she has reason to be mad at me...and I guess she was. With that first step, she trips me and I fall face first into her pleasures. I break my precious TFO. Pretty much that does my weekend as far as fly-fishing seriously and looking back at it now I think it was a good thing. Sometimes I think I put too much on fly-fishing itself and not enough on the overall fly-fishing experience such as friendship with my brethen and sisterhood of the angle. Well, I got a good good measure of that experience this weekend and it was fantastic.

Back at the meeting place it was time to break out the Dutch Ovens. I had planned on cooking along with several others. Vernon Forrester come prepared to really cook and Vernon had four or five Dutch Ovens going on at once which is a task for two people. But, Ralph Fullenwider came to the aid of Vernon and Ralph proved to be one heck of a campfire cook's helper. Speaking of Ralph, and you have yet to meet him, uh...one of the first things he'll tell you is that he's hard to get along with. I think this is one prime example of why he fit in so well in the Circle Of Big Ass Campfire Bullshiters Conclave. Ralph F....is a sweetheart of a guy.

Soon, other cooks started filing in like Donny and Linda Carter, Kent Wohler (wow...this guy's an artist with the Dutch), Kevin Harris, Harold Beck's lady friends, and on and on and on. Chris Adams had his smoker going all weekend and offered up pork loin on Friday night and brisket Saturday. Jeff Joseph brought chili, I fixed chili, and I think Kent made a chili dish...lots of dang chili. Harold Beck made appetizers with stuffed Jalapeno's, Vernon made some very special biscuits, cornbread was offered up and the rage I kept on hearing about was the oatmeal pie which I did not get to partake in...dog-gone it!

During lunch, we held the raffle and silent auctions and what a hoot that turned out to be. Our group is so giving it should speak volumes for the individuality that can exist as self but step up to a part of an overall greater effort. For offering we had Larry Horton's carving, Lane Kregel's handmade knife, Robert Murphy's pontoon boat, and Ralph James ole grey flies.

Folks, in less than two hours we raised $450.00 for the Wildlife Department and Blue River. After lunch, Matt Gambel was on stage in the woods and he ansered questions from a good number of the group. Matt also praised the group for being so active in the future of Blue River which should make us all feel pretty darn good.

Fishing for the most part started off slow but the ole seasoned veteran's got into their niche's later in the day. Donn "The Donn" Riss found his niche down at the ledge above the crossing catching untold numbers of bows. Chris Adams and Robert Murphy also found some honey-holes and had a ton of fun playing with the bows. And, then there was Cody.

Cody is the young fly-fisher on Blue River that everyone and their dogs, cats, and parakeet knows. He's a dandy shining example of a young man and evidently he is quite focused. Cody caught 118 bows on Saturday. Now...that should make a grown man cry...and it did. Haven't cried like that in years.

And in closing I'll say thank goodness for the Blue River Fly-Fishers. I know very well, without the wonderful friendships I have gained through this group, my life would be lacking. Lacking and wanting for what I have now...some delightful friendships with very good and caring people.

And besides that...I wouldn't be a part of the Circle Of The Brethen Of The Big Ass Campfire Bullshiters Conclave. I mean...that will look damn good on a resume'.

The Motley Crew