Or bison, as many people keep correcting me. Whatever you call them, they are big.
I spent the weekend with Angler John in the The Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge. This is a really neat place in southwest Oklahoma near John’s hometown. The area is packed with lakes big and small, and it’s a really neat place to go for a few days if you just want to fish and not worry about catching anything you want to brag about.
I wish I would have gotten an up close and personal shot, but when John told me about a few overturned cars, I decided to take it easy and try and not startle one of the bulls, who seem just as big as my WRX.
This is a trip that will have lots of memories specifically one that included watching out for these beasts:
The refuge is apparently the only place in the country where longhorns run wild. I would be pretty scared of one of these things behind a fence, let alone allowed ones that roam and scare the shit out of you by being all sneaky.
We ended up getting up close and personal with one of these bovine when hiking back from hitting the shallows of the most trophy of bluegill fisheries I had ever been on. We were a few feet from this particular cow when it decided to get up and I decided to bolt, leaving John behind to decide to run or play dead (he chose the former.) I am glad he was behind since he saw me drop my only C&F box. I didn’t give a shit about the flies inside, but I risked a goring to get back this box I got on sale and love so much. It was great fun throwing poppers to frisky males full of color on a 4wt. Lake Elmer Thomas is amazingly clear and perhaps the clearest Lake I have seen in Oklahoma in years.
Today we hit 3 lakes Jed Johnson, Quanah Parker, and ended the day going dual in the Native on Elmer Thomas for some late afternoon bluegill. I lucked out since it was John’s first time in the yak and he decided to paddle more than fish and I was able to close out the day on a high note with a small largemouth.
John spent most of the day in his recently gifted tube. I was around a bend when it happened, but John, who is just starting out, laid into what he described as “one of those TV fish.” I was padding fast far away when it happened, but I did hear him scream. It didn’t sound much like drowning and was around the bend when it happened, so I didn’t stop to see what all the fuss was about. John has his first real fish story with no visual confirmation in picture or fishing buddy form. I think this should happen to everyone. It sucks, but at the end it’s what makes fishing such a personally gratifying endeavor.
It was a long day and half, and despite the baked skin and brush with death by longhorn, a really memorable one for the stories and the scenery. My arm’s sore from constantly trying to speed John up by pushing him around with my kayak, but that’s what friends are for. With this kind of scenery, taking it slow its what it’s all about.
