Cherokee Park offers chance at quality angling
Outdoor writer and photographer Corbet Deary is featured regularly in The Sentinel-Record. Today, Deary writes about Cherokee Park.
Aware my upcoming journey would lead me in the direction of the Morrilton area, I recently blocked out a window of time. I would already be in the vicinity, so why not embark upon a short detour to a recreation area nestled on the banks of the Arkansas River?
I had visited Cherokee Park a couple times before, and experienced two totally different settings. The first journey greeted us with a well-maintained campground and a longing to return with a quality rod and reel rigged with heavy line.
I watched on as anglers managed to coax several impressive stripers from the water within a short period. And judging from some of the tales locals shared, this was also a great destination where one was apt to tie into a large catfish.
Finally returning a couple of years later, I was somewhat disappointed upon arrival. The facility had obviously not been well maintained. The grass was ungroomed, and if not for one RV parked at a designated campsite, the park would have appeared completely desolate.
In all honesty, I was perturbed that the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers had failed to properly maintain a park that had such potential. It was only fair that I give them the benefit of the doubt, however, as there was a chance I had arrived just prior to when they were scheduled to pull maintenance on the facility.
So, I set up camp with a healthy attitude and anticipation of what might transpire in the hours to come. With my home away from home erected and secured to the sandy substrate, I immediately grabbed my fishing gear and embarked upon a short jaunt to the base of lock and dam 9.
Throwing a large white jig into the swift water, I focused on my huge bobber, but to no avail. This was the exact technique anglers were using with great success during my initial visit. But despite fishing for a couple of hours, I never got as much as a bite.
Returning to the dam later that evening, I decided to soak a big, fat, juicy night crawler. Although the bite was relatively slow, I did manage to coax a couple of channels from the water before a rising sun brought with it the beginning of the following day.
I opted to leave my fishing gear at home during my most recent visit, as my stay would be short. To be honest, I was mostly curious of how well the facility had been maintained.
Noticing a vehicle near the dam, I made a beeline to the parking area. Carefully placing my steps, I descended the steep riprap to the base of the lock. From a distance, I immediately grew intrigued upon seeing water splashing from the 5-gallon bucket sitting next to an angler. Although unsure what was in the container, one thing was for certain — the fella had experienced success.
After admiring a channel cat in the 3- to 4-pound range, I began picking the elderly angler’s brain. The local had fished this location on a consistent basis. And according to him, the catfishing had proved impressive earlier in the year. But as could be expected, the bite had slowed with the arrival of miserably hot days.
The kind fella shared an interesting story when I mentioned striper fishing. Pointing at the water rushing through the nearby dam, he said, “They used to catch them over there like crazy. But not anymore.” According to the angler, the striper numbers have dwindled in this particular section of the river during the past couple of years. Although he suspected a large flood changed the substrate, he had no concrete evidence why this particular species’ numbers had dwindled.
After sharing a few more tales, I opted to embark upon a short jaunt into the recreation area. Well, wouldn’t you know it. Things didn’t look much different from before, as the grounds once again needed mowing.
And although I did noticed three or four campers parked at designated spots, most of the facility was going unused. Parking at a vacant site, I struck out afoot, walking along the paved road leading through the facility.
Although the park was on the verge of desolate, I couldn’t help but admire the setting. Each site was nestled under the canopy of large trees and was spaced where one would not be piled atop their neighbor.
The park was obviously kid friendly, as the playground sported its fair share of equipment, and the large field adjacent to the camping area would prove a great location where a group could participate in a friendly game of ball.
A picnic shelter was also on the grounds and those visiting the facility were privy to water, electricity, showers, flush toilets and a boat ramp. According to information I gathered on the World Wide Web, the facility sports 33 RV/tent sights with water and electricity. And there are also some walk-in sites. Although not seeing these spots, I would suspect they are designed with primitive camping in mind.
Completing my walk in the park, I then followed a faint trail leading through a grassy area and to the water’s edge. Wow. The view from the shoreline was beautiful.
Looking across the large body of water, I watched as a blue heron methodically placed every step in the shallows, searching for its next potential meal. Eventually growing wary of our presence, the prehistoric looking bird flapped his large wings and took flight.
Before long, a large fish rushed to the surface and made a big splash. Could it have been one of those elusive stripers the fella had mentioned earlier that had located and attacked an unsuspecting shad? I obviously wasn’t sure of the species, but anything of that stature would be worthy of a good fight.
Peering downstream, I watched as the river made a bend and eventually eased out of sight. And although several miles separated us from the next recreation area, I imagined an angler casting into the same water, or someone watching with awe as it would eventually rush from the depths and churn the surface at the base of a lower dam.
Peering upstream, I enjoyed an impressive view of a distant lock and dam 9. It was a huge structure and rightfully so, as it was built to control a large river that at times was roaring with fury. The river was huge and I could only imagine the numbers of large fish lurking in the murky waters between me and the dam.
Returning to my vehicle, I headed to my next destination wondering why Cherokee Park was not well maintained. That in mind, I couldn’t suggest an overnighter at the facility with a clear conscience. But I could suggest soaking a line in these waters, as I suspect one stands a slight chance of catching the fish of their dreams.