Issue link: http://www.e-digitaleditions.com/i/812511
122 • S P O R T I N G C L A S S I C S long tail. A chain-mail suit of bony, interlocking scales covers the body, the scales so sharp and hard they were used as arrowheads by native peoples. From its alligator-like snout protrude hundreds of teeth that seem designed for biting holes in grain barges. The maximum size for alligator gars remains speculative, both in terms of "what was" and "might still be." Old reports of 12- to 20-footers were probably exaggerated, but well-documented dimensions are impressive, nevertheless. One of the heaviest on record is an 8-foot, 5-inch, 356-pound specimen caught in Arkansas's Horseshoe Lake in 1931. A fish from Vermilion Parish, Louisiana, was documented at 9 feet, 8 1 /2 inches and 302 pounds. The biggest gator gar in recent years was pulled from a net in Mississippi's Chotard Lake in 2011. That behemoth measured 8 feet, 5 inches and weighed 327 pounds. The world rod-and-reel record caught in 1951 stretched 7 feet, 9 inches and weighed 279 pounds. Six- to 7-footers tipping the scales at 100 to 150 pounds remain common in some U.S. rivers. In the fresh waters of North America, only the white sturgeon grows larger. The gator gar's malevolent appearance and massive size hint at its ancestry. Scientists say fossils of the species trace back 100 million years. That means this monster's ancestors heard the footsteps of dinosaurs and saw the dawn of mankind. So perfect was nature's design, if you compared fossils with today's fish the differences would be unnoticeable. Unfortunately, misinformed humans decided it would be best if alligator gars joined the dinosaurs in extinction. And a decades-long campaign to make that happen almost succeeded. T he alligator gar, which lives in both fresh and brackish waters, once ranged from Mexico's coastal waters north to the Mississippi and Ohio rivers in Missouri, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Tennessee, and Kentucky. The heart of the fish's range, where big gars lived in sizable numbers, included rivers in Oklahoma, Arkansas, Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, looking fish has never been seen. "Reel!" Fox shouted. "Reel like you've never reeled before!" Madge did, and soon the seven-foot- long fish surfaced. A sweep of its tail drenched Madge and Fox, then the gar rocketed from the water again, striking the boat's gunwale as it plummeted back into the river. Fox had seen enough. He pulled a .38-caliber revolver from his holster and put two bullets through the beast's head. The brawl ended. "It's huge," Fox said as he roped the fish's tail and secured it to the boat. "One hundred sixty pounds . . . maybe one-eighty." Madge was shaking, as much from exhaustion as from exhilaration. She sighed, and in a hushed tone, she spoke. "I hate to admit it, but I have peed my pants, Mr. Fox," she said. "I was so excited, I just couldn't help myself." Recalling the incident more than 50 years later, Fox chuckled. "Poor Madge. She had gotten so worked up, she had peed her britches. She was so addicted to gar fishing, though, even that didn't slow her down. Later, she landed another huge fish." A n up-close look at a big alligator gar and you can understand Madge Ledbetter's trepidation and excitement. This ancient giant closely resembles its namesake, with fins replacing the legs and W hen Madge Ledbetter set the hook, the dark water opened with a roar to release a fish as long and thick as a Civil War cannon. The huge thing flipped sideways, then plunged back into the river with a tremendous splash. The fun had begun. Madge's alligator gar surged upstream, towing the johnboat containing the female angler and her fishing guide, John Fox. Standing with a hand on his outboard tiller, Fox smiled and said, "Keep your line taut so it can't throw the hook. This one's huge, maybe your biggest yet." This wasn't the first time Madge had battled a big gator gar in Arkansas' St. Francis River. She fished monthly with Fox, who had been helping clients catch these primitive monsters since the early 1950s. She was an experienced big game angler who had landed several 100-pound-plus giants. The one she hooked this time was almost twice that size. The middle-age lady's stamina would be tested to the max. Fortunately, Madge's hook held firm, and after a fierce struggle, she managed to turn the leviathan toward the boat. The fish was still green, though. As Madge's line tightened, the gar reared its broad head, displaying a maw with two parallel rows of thick, needle-sharp teeth. It thrashed its head this way then that, its black, silver-dollar-sized eyes seemingly locked on its tormentors. A more wicked- Cache River Charlie was the name given to this monster that once graced an office at the Arkansas Game & Fish Commission in Little Rock. It measured 7 feet, 11 inches and weighed 225 pounds. photograph courtesy of arkansas game & fish commission