The Day After The Start Of The Trout Close Season

I don't often fish the opening day of the trout season as the rivers I have access to aren't that great until April or even May. With the current restrictions the choice was even more limited. At a push a couple could be called local, but my twenty mile or sub thirty minute limit all that was left was the beck. With nothing to do, sort of, I decided to give it a go for a couple of hours or so. The garden can wait a day or two. My problem with trouting at this time of year is the fact I associate it with blossom on trees, warm(ish) weather and clear water. I also really enjoy dry fly above all else, even to the point where I'll fish it knowing chucking a nymph about would produce and this is not dry fly time at all.

As I wandered to the downstream end of the stretch I was surprised to find the woods had be thinned out. A lot of the dodgy alien confers had been removed which should give a bit more light to the beck. Areas of bramble had also been removed allowing some iris to, which were just poking through, to get some light. The floods of autumn and winter had clearly reshaped the bed of the beck and made the banks some what steeper to the point of been sheer. As I paddle about it was clear that areas that used to be gravel were now covered in silt and previously silty areas were now gravel. This won't have done the sparse weed growth any good. At this end of the beck its was just starting to make a comeback. From the tracks in the mud it also looked like an otter had been for a trip upstream. There did get to a point where I saw no more so maybe it only got so far up before returning to the main river.

I spent the time fishing flicking a small gold head PTN into likely looking lies. Apart from a couple of gudgeon and some fry fish wee rather thin on the ground. This didn't really surprise me. I don't often catch here until end of April in to May. While having a cuppa and pondering what to do the sun came out. This made things look somewhat less desolate. Rooting through the fly box I came across a couple of little dog nobbler, wooly bugger style jig flies. I decided to try pulling the through some of the deeper pools on the next stretch. It soon became clear that casting these things with their heavy tungsten bead was not the same as flicking a brass beaded PTN on a short line. A seven foot weight four isn't really the tool for the job, or it could be my casting, or both. Roll casting the little heavy weight didn't really work as the thing anchored itself rather to well. The weight was needed though to get down into the depths of these holes. Some of them are four to five foot deep. It was fun though, even if all that was caught was the occasional twig both in the water and above.

It was a pleasant couple of hours or so. Interesting to see the changes the beck and what had stayed the same. I might give it another go in the next couple of days with a U/L lure rod and some little jigs. The only problem with that is that the garden really needs a bit of work. I'm sure I can fit both in if I try. The day ended on a rather silly note. As I went to get in the car I dropped the key which landed in among the adjustment rail and some cabling for the seat belt sensor. I could just reach it from above, but couldn't grip it and get my hand back out. Poking around under the seat from behind I could raise it, but couldn't get my other hand to it. If only my arms were a couple of inches longer. Eventually I managed to nudge it so it dropped under the rail where I could get hold of it and get on my way.