Wilson comfy in valley of midge people

Brown trout caught on the White River

The great thing about fly fishing, it’s a year-round sport. Yes, you can call it fishing when you sit at your desk and tie flies on a day too cold to stand in the river.

Or you can visit the local fly shop to talk fishing, or stock up on stuff that’s going to be needed in a few weeks. You always need new or more stuff.

That’s what I was doing during our cold snap in late February. Near the checkout stand at Dally’s Ozark Fly Fisher in Cotter there was something new, Hank Wilson’s book "Fly Fishing for the Soul: Tales of a White River Guide."

Wilson is one of the true legends of the White River, the top fly fishing guide at Gaston’s White River Resort for almost four decades. He's retired and lives -- for a few more weeks -- near Mountain Home.

Oh, what a find it was for those cold nights (and days). I read it over and over, digesting his how-to sections on his favorite flies and the best spots on the White River to fish them.

After reading it through several times – and some of the chapters four or five times – it was time to find Wilson. The connection came courtesy of a mutual friend, outdoors writer Steve Wright.

There have now been two lengthy phone conversations with Wilson, the last a pure accident and a bit scary.

Wilson called last week with a quick question: Is my book selling? Do you need more?

Eventually I figured out that Wilson had saved my phone number wrong and he called me thinking someone at the fly shop would answer. I explained that I was not a worker at Dally’s, but his new sportswriter friend.

Then, came the explanation from Wilson that was just plain scary, like someone had swiped all of the trout in the White River. When I inquired about a possible lunch date, he said, “It needs to be soon. I’m about done here. I’ve got about 30 days, maybe 45.”

I thought about several ways to continue the conversation. Maybe I should express sorrow. Done can mean a lot of dark things.

Then, Wilson explained, “Sarah and I have sold the house. We are moving to Belize.”

Oh, that’s great news, sort of. I’ll miss getting to know him better, but Belize is a cool place and they deserve some happy strolls on beaches or fly fishing on a salt water flat.

Wilson is the ultimate cool fly fishing dude. I’ve fished beside him without an introduction many times at the top of the catch and release zone near Bull Shoals Dam.

We are part of the group he writes about so beautifully in his book several times. He calls our kind “the dam site irregulars.” We wear funny Stetson hats or other unique attire that give away our identity from afar.

We converse across the water or in the parking lot as we don waders or put them away at day’s end. We celebrate the good days (and those not so good). After all, if you are an irregular, you know it’s not about the catching, just getting to stand in the river and get a chance at one of those monster White River browns.

That’s especially true for Wilson, as good at catching them or guiding a raw beginner for his first White River trout.

The book details those grand days on the river, the legendary 100-fish trips. There are chapters dedicated to the famous who have stepped into his boat for a day on the White River, like Jack Nicholson.

The day with Nicholson ended with an invitation to visit him in Los Angeles and take in a Lakers game courtside. Before that Nicholson shook his hand and introduced himself as “Just Johnny.” Wilson played along.

There is a chapter on the way he stumbled onto his top fly patterns, including his famous Little Brown Nymph. The LBN came from a skein of wool yarn found at the auxiliary hospital thrift store in Mountain Home.

Obviously, the yarn is brown, but there are little flecks of red, black and green. The day he walked into the river near the Cotter Bridge to fish his new fly was pretty cool. It caused nearby fly fishers nearby to whisper about the magical success of the old codger in the Stetson hat.

Wilson, the ultimate good guy, hung a couple of his new creations on a leaf hanging over the river on his way out. He made sure the two guys were watching. They nodded and hustled over to retrieve the hot fly of the day.

It still works. I asked Wilson about the yarn at the thrift store. No, it’s no longer available, but he hinted that it came from Ireland and is named “heather.” I thought to myself, a good reporter ought to be able to find it.

In our most recent discussion, Wilson and I talked about what it might imitate. It’s probably a lot of things, perhaps a sow bug or a caddis pupae. That’s the nature of all great guide flies, pure versatility and the ultimate in simplicity. They are so quick to tie there are no worries when a fish snaps them off or a client throws 10 in trees.

Wilson describes my favorite stretch of water to a tee starting on page 134 in the chapter "Frustration in the Valley of Midge People." It’s the area near the restricted line at the dam where fishing tiny midge imitations have driven many newbies insane. I am one of those people who loves that stretch of water. It's tough, but can be great if you have the touch with long leaders and tiny midges.

While many of the dam site irregulars fish midges, Wilson is usually near a bank with a terrestrial fly pattern. He writes that big bugs are not only falling from limbs hanging over the edge of the water, but blown off the lake over the top of the huge dam. I’d never thought of that last possibility.

He provides simple thoughts on how to fish the dam if you do want to try midges. He learned at a fly tying convention that you need only a Griffith’s knat or a Syl midge in sizes 16 and 18. He writes that the exact match of the natural while fishing tight to the dam at most tailwater fisheries is not as important as presentation and a good dead drift.

But there is a chapter on accidental discoveries. For example, a tug of the line or a pop of the rod tip at the end of a dead drift might inspire an odd strike from a trophy brown. That's a mistake in a dead drift, but it may prove to be just what's needed. Then, all you need to do is repeat your mistake.

There is great wisdom on how to pick a rod and the fly line that matches your needs and ability.

I’ve suggested to a few friends that I’ll let them borrow my copy, but that’s not happened yet and may not. I keep re-reading it and leave it at my fly tying desk for information on Wilson's top patterns.

The copies at the fly shop in Cotter are gone. But you can order from Hank at hankweir@aol.com.

“We aren’t taking anything with us,” he said. “We are selling everything, including all of our furniture. The cost of a shipping container is more than what it would cost to replace it all.”

Somehow I think what’s left of the skein of heather yarn is going with him. A Little Brown Nymph might work in Belize. Who knows what it might imitate in a salt flat? I trust Hank Wilson will figure out whether or it does or not and write another wonderful book.

I'll buy that one, too. If Hank Wilson likes Belize, I know I will, too.