The Rains of Castermere

Well it has been raining a little bit here in Iceland, we here on the east are actually getting the least amount in the country, which has to be saying something as the lake that I usually fish rose about a foot in two days..

It went from these levels:


To this:


The natural course of action in this weather is of course to grab a bike, and pedal for an hour in the apocalyptic rains to go fishing.

Halfway to the lake my tires blew out, so I walked back the ten miles I’d come to change to a woman bike, and rode out again in good faith while the rains pounded ever so hard on me.

I began casting streamers at the inlets hoping the fish would be lined up there, but the water was much colder than it had been before the rains, which probably sent them to deeper waters. I tried for about an hour before reaching one inlet, and after having changed to a blood worm chironomid nymph, I promptly hooked up with a feisty 15 inch brown trout and after a heavy battle and a couple jumps I managed to get it to shore.


After this I thought I’d hit the jackpot and would hook up with a whole bunch more trout.

Suffice it to say that did not happen.

After that fish, the wind changed from a manageable sea breeze to a freezing wind from the cold hells of the glaciers. I fought this for about an hour or two until giving up and riding my bike home, freezing in the wind and soaked to the bone from the rain.

I regret nothing in my decision to fish on this day.








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