Between 1964 and 1967, Peabody Coal extracted 1.2 million tons of coal from a site only about 10 miles north of Columbia, MO.  Of course, an intensive strip-mining operation on that scale drastically altered the landscape. Peabody made some effort to address the resulting scarred land and to stock the pits left behind with fish after they stopped mining but a more intensive nationally funded reclamation effort followed about five years later.  The pits were linked and dammed. The result is what is today the Finger Lakes State Park.  There’s a lot of recreation to be had in the 1,000-acre area but my efforts during an excursion there 7/22-24/22 focused on what I could accomplish with a fly rod from my inflatable drift boat. My son and grandson joined me with spinning rigs for some fishing too.

We fished five miles of narrow waterways called a “water trail” and also spent a morning on 50-acre Rocky Fork Lake just outside the park. These waterways were teeming with ravenous largemouth bass and feisty bluegill panfish. Over the years, thick structure has formed in these pits.  The overhanging tree limbs, broken off tree stumps, moss and vegetation growing upward from shallow portions have provided the fish lots of safe places to hang out.  So the challenge is to skirt along the structure and try to entice fish to charge out and hit a popper before darting back into the safety of their lair. That wasn’t the whole story, however because there were sections of the waterways that were fairly deep with somewhat clean bottoms where fish responded to streamers and plastic worms and salamander lures as well.  

But it was the poppers and little bream flies I enjoyed fishing the most.  Due to intense heat, the best strategy was to drift around the serene, majestic surroundings at dawn and see if we could incite strikes.  One morning I brought a five-weight rod set up with a bass popper and a three-weight rod rigged with a smaller bream bug.  Making my way slowly along the banks and structure, if I got a strike from what seemed to be a panfish (with it’s smaller mouth that made setting the hook tricky), I’d grab the bream rig and cast the smaller dry bug out. Often the “fingers” of water were just wide enough to float down the middle and cast to banks on each side. Many sections took on the appearance of a river.  And every few yards was another little piece of water that looked so “fishy” you just had to cast to it. And more often than not you’d be rewarded with a splash and a solid tug. 

The strikes and hookups were steady until the sun climbed along with the temperatures.  We estimated we hauled in more than 30 one morning and achieved a respectable enough harvest each outing.  We were catching and releasing so didn’t pay much attention to slot sizes or limits.  Because of the close proximity to a metropolitan area of 126,000 residents — many of them college-aged and looking for recreation — the water trail attracted more kayakers and canoeing as the day proceeded.  But we only encountered about four fishermen in watercraft over three days and none of them were fly fishing.

 The bass poppers that seemed to work best were lighter in color and had a concave head.  Just about any color panfish fly got results, but often despite the larger hook on the bass poppers, I would catch nearly as many bream on them as on the smaller bug flys. As is usually the case, the panfish were fearless in attacking the fly and great fighters as they zig-sagged through the water with powerful bursts of energy.  While we didn’t land any trophy-sized bass, many were at least a foot long or better and could really bend a fly rod or light spinning rod as we fought them to the drift boat. 

It was truly satisfying to find an out-of-the way place to flyfish and to see a very successful reclamation effort as well.  I just had to let my FATC buddies know about this chance to “feel the tug” at another venue. Good fishing to ya.

Al Harper