Canal carp have taken up most of my angling time this spring, well, a trio of tench trips have possibly taken up the rest, so any time targeting trout has had the kibosh put on it. Why after all this time that I finally decided to dust off my 4wt was because the preceding evening I took my daughter for a walk along the river to just see if the river was in good condition and generally just to do my bit to let out-of-season anglers know they are not supposed to be fishing.
With the sun out and a pleasant evening and armed with the DSLR I hoped I'd get some photo opportunities and how glad I was that I did. I was treated possibly the best taking of flies ever in my life, the Trout didn't care about me and I snapped a good few pics off. This show of fish got me thinking. The next evening after work I shot off home briefly and grabbed that 4wt and a couple of boxes of flies, it was game on!.
|Just a couple of about twenty keepers!|
Not wasting anytime I drove up to where I saw this healthy group of trout. Now I know there are few through this river but stocks seem to proliferate in the upper reaches and I only needed three casts at my first sighting and a stunning cock-brownie around a pound was in the bag "so to speak", only catch and release in my mind.
When the stream is just over a rod lengths wide! But what an awesome place it is and that wasn't all either as I crossed paths with a big trout, so big I didn't know what do in terms if I got the chance to tempt it! Surely any inclining that it was in trouble would have me going berserk, now, that fish after a few casts did come up and stare at my fly, a take looked likely and on the very next cast I got the line just to sit straight and the fly was slurped off the top by a large cock-brownie, in water nearly as deep as it was is mind blowing and my fly rod started to piss line as it screamed off. Just ten seconds into the fight all of a sudden my line went completely slack and he was gone.
On closer inspection as I retrieved the tippet the fish had cut the line above the fly! I was gutted and rightly so, that would have been an incredible fish from this diminutive stream.
With my heart rate still through the roof and my Polaroids still steamed up I got off the bank and gathered myself to go again. Even after just ten seconds any other fish there would be long gone in the crystal clear water. I pushed on up above a small weir roughly 30 yards upstream where I hoped the commotion wouldn't have put the trout off feeding. Having chilled out for a few minutes I got the fly rod back out and retied another DLL size 10 on and began to stalk the water again.
Tight against the far bank margins I could see a shape of a fairly large trout, just under the overhanging ivy, having only tasted defeat so soon I only decided to flick a fly out and allow it to drift when I felt confident that he or she had come away from the foliage for me to stand a chance at being successful, five minutes later and my pain was replaced with elation as my little trout pan was filled with a monster male!
That will quench my fluff chucking thirst for another year! What an evening it was.