By HANK BRADSHAW - OUTDOOR LIFE, APRIL, 1965 Vol. 135, No. 4
Here's a river that has breathtaking scenery and smallmouth fishing to match. And it's perfect for floating
THOUGH WE HAD scarcely left the landing near Rush, an abandoned mining village, for our float on the Buffalo River, a wild new world was already ours. This narrow, serpentine river, which rambles for 128 beautiful, canyon-like miles through the green Ozark mountains across the top of western Arkansas, had caught us in its six-mile current and was drifting us rapidly along. Dramatic bluffs, some 500 feet high, dwarfed our queer-looking fleet of johnboats, the 20-foot-long, yard-wide, flat-bottomed affairs that are peculiar to Ozark streams.
Almost immediately, we faced a wicked-looking white-water shoal, and I marveled at how dexterously our young, smooth-faced guide, Don neuver the boat so that we felt only a gentle bounce as we negotiated the boiling rapids.
"stuck," as they say in the Ozarks when you hook a fish. He put on a1/21/4