What You Up To

In the middle of the blistering heatwave that was Wednesday I headed up (and across) to Nidderdale. My intention was to fish a club stretch I'd not fished for donkey's years. Having parked up in an empty lay-by I crossed the rover and headed downstream to what I thought was the bottom of the stretch. On the way down the lack of insect life and the lack of rising fish was rather worrying, but iI hoped this would be rectified later on as things cooled.

Just before I entered the river I heard a shout of " What you up to". In my experience there are to two approaches by land owners when fishing in the wrong place. The aforementioned and the incoherent shouty rant. The later don't appear to want a confrontation and shout and rant from a distance in the hope you've gone by the time they get there. The former are generally perfectly amiable people who just want to know who you are and often will let you fish their bit anyway, especially when you explain you thought this was the club water. They will also often ask if there's anything worth catching and appear quite surprised when you tell them there is.

I then heard the " What you up to" call again, but still couldn't see anybody. Then they appeared, farmer and excitable collie puppy. on a length of bailing twine. Despite his repeated requests of " What you up to" the puppy seemed quite happy to ignore him. I had a bit of a natty with him, which wasn't very encouraging. He told me he was surprised to see me as you don't see many anglers up here these days which was not surprising as there didn't appear to be many fish in the river like there use to be. This did not bode well.

Not long after I came across my first rising fish taking gnats about a foot off an overhanging sycamore branch. The first cast was a bit short. The second snagged the alder behind me. As I wandered back to retrieve it the fly dropped to the water, turning round the fish was still rising and I managed a decent cast which was ignored. The fish then moved  up and across so was behind the branch. A slight change of angle and an accurate cast saw the fly taken as it hit the water. A strike saw the fly straight into the sycamore branch. Just too quick. There was no way that a simple pull was going to retrieve the fly so the swim was ruined as I paddled up to retrieve it.  I continued upstream with the odd speculative cast here and there again snagging an alder on the back cast, but never saw another fish rise by the time I was back opposite the  car.

As I paddle across the river to the car in order the get my drink which I'd forgotten to take a little boy popped his head over the wall. There then followed the sort of pointless, unwinnable, explanation from his parents as to way he couldn't go for a paddle like that mister. I received a Paddington style hard stare before he stomped back to the car still protesting.

I waded, stumbled and clambered my way upstream, tossing the odd fly into bits of pocket water before coming across some fish, in a large pool, rising to gnats. I spent a frustrating time try to hook one. Because of the dappled light it was hard to see the fly at times, and even when I could see it I just couldn't hit the bites. I gave up and continued upstream. The bluebells were still in reasonable nick up here, very few had gone over. As I sat staring at pool I thought I saw if fish rise in a moth landed on my hand. Nothing more moved in the pool so onward and upward.

Towards the top of the stretch, at least I think it was the top as I had no pone signal I couldn't consult the map, I found a very enticing pool.Sat among the garlic a fish or two would rise.  On with the action cam and into the water I had a few casts, but the fish stopped rising. A sandwich and cup of tea later and they were rising again. First cast and I was in, only for it to come adrift moments later. I waited and another fish started to rise on the other side. Action cam on and the fish stopped rising. Action came off and it started again. I know fish can detect minute electrical signals, but can they really detect the action cam. I tried again. this time the fish kept rising. There was clearly more than one in the pool as every now and then there would be several rises. No matter what I tried I could get a take. Still a couple of ducklings catching gnats at the top of the pool kept me amused while I persisted. Eventually the gnats disappeared and the rises stopped. The ducklings then headed to the bank in the direction of their parents quacks.

As it was getting late I started to head back downstream until I spotted another fish rising. A spectacular half-skagit under arm roll of the Italian school crashed to the water and put a stop to that. Further down a few uprights were dancing about, but no sign of any fish activity. I waited until it was near impossible to see them before deciding I'd better get back to the car before it got too dark. After a while I recognised the spot I'd got to. It was where I'd been talking to the farmer. Somehow I'd managed to pass the car. Retracing my steps  I spotted the glint of it in another car's headlights. Crossing the river I landed on my arse as I stepped into a deeper hole. Clearly I'd overstayed my welcome.

Not an entirely fruitless day, even if nothing came to hand. Next time I'll take some spiders with me and some hi-viz black thingies with pink wings or something.