Well they say perseverance pays off, and it sure did.
At work yesterday, I was standing by the window during an unusually quiet breakfast, and the weather looked irresistible, so I emailed my top secret contacts and got myself a permit to fish the river again, this time I’d go further upstream than I’d gone before, hoping for some nice fish this time.
An hour and half of biking after work led me up a dirt path that soon turned into mud in the rain, so I got off my bike and put on some waders, and headed off into the unknown…
The first pool I got to I swung a purple egg sucking leech on a floating line through it, and after a couple casts it was grabbed by a golden brown trout around two pounds. I lost it as I was trying to land it. But the sweet feeling of simply hooking a trout in the river after this long was… Intoxicating.
I cast again and swung into the lower part of the pool and a violent grab led to a run to the deep part at the top. My three weight was bent to the cork as it made run after run to the depths. Finally I managed to beach the four pound sea trout, a silvery chrome fresh from the sea. As I went to remove the fly it spit out a half-digested brown trout around 5 inches. Goes to show just how cannibalistic these fish are.
After this I swung through the pool once more, a couple sea runs jumped while I made my way down. I fished a couple pools downstream, all of them held fish but none took my fly. I nymphed my way back up, but with no luck. I decided to head home after a great time on the river, but on my way to the bike I noticed a little puddle that used to be a side channel during the flooding last week, and in it were a lot of trout rising. I quickly switched to a dry fly emerger, and hooked up and landed a couple skinny browns in quick succession. While I was landing a small brown I noticed a “big one” around a pound attack it over and over, so I switched to a big articulated streamer and dragged it through the pool and watched the trout attack it, but I pulled the fly out of its mouth and after that it didn’t come out again.
I felt immensely satisfied with this day that I’d had, so I grabbed my bike and began heading home, when I realized that the tire had blown out… 25 miles from home… I walked my bike along the highway for two hours until I reached home, feet covered in blisters and knees about to give in, but this day was as close to a perfect fishing trip as I’ve gotten all summer so I regret nothing.