I got it in my head after work on Saturday that it would be a great idea to take a stroll up to lake Þveit and fish it for a couple hours then walk back down and go to work in the morning, so I attempted to pull it off and set out on the twenty mile hike to the lake without a map, nor snacks, nor anything else except my fishing gear…
About halfway to the lake I was wondering what I’d gotten myself into, walking along the highway was as uncomfortable as walking gets, constantly having cars whizz past, and looking over my shoulder to make sure that the next one wouldn’t come crashing into me and sending me off to the next life. And then there was the small problem of hunger, as I’d eaten a lunch, but I’m a big boy and need food, and my snacks consisted of a pack of throat lozenges, which I ate one by one to keep the hunger at bay.
I reached the lake about two and a half hours after starting my journey. When I got to the lake however, I saw why I had walked all that way: there were trout everywhere. Jumping clean out of the water, riseforms, and scattering everywhere in the little creeks I crossed.
I quickly threw on my waders and set my rod up, I saw a lot of caddis so I put on a caddis nymph in hopes of hooking up with something. I started casting to the shallows with no luck, as I waded out and reached a deeper dropoff, I saw nice sized browns splashing on the surface as if playing with me. I cast a couple more times with the nymph, but after having no luck with that I switched to a streamer, and cast it to the riseforms. Immediately a trout attacked my fly and shot out to the deep. I hooked it and walked backwards to beach it as I didn’t have a net. After flying out of the water a couple times I landed the gorgeous brown trout, around 15 inches in length.
Soon after I released this fish the wind picked up and the sun went away. I noticed two fishermen fishing near me so I fished my way towards them to see if they’d had any luck. As soon as I got to them though I could see that something weird was going on as one of them ran up the hill with a bag of what seemed to be bait and the other stood innocently on the bank pretending not to be able to talk in any language it seemed… Well I was here to fish so I continued on my merry way to the far bank of the lake. But to my dismay that whole side of the lake, most of the fishing area, was shallow and weedy, essentially unfishable. But in these weeds I saw whole groups of small trout jumping out of the water as trying to fly. It was one of the strangest moments I’ve witnessed in my years of fishing, as it didn’t seem to be for any particular purpose other than just jumping like dolphins. And there were so many. I caught a couple on a small caddis dry fly, and they were all small sea trout on their way back out to sea to become big monster trout. By this point the weather had completely reversed and went from this:
I tried to catch some fish but nothing I put on hooked any, maybe the dead mackarel the other fishermen left had something to do with their unwillingness to take the fly, but the weather was getting worse as well so I decided to begin my grueling walk home, to avoid becoming a casualty of the Icelandic nature.. Maybe a bit dramatic but the walk had made my mind go a bit coo-coo.
So I packed up and headed back home, eventually reaching it right around midnight. I will explore this lake some more this summer, especially once the sea-run trout and char start showing up and I’ll have a bike so I can at least get there without wasting two hours.