Onwards and Upwards, and Down Again

There was the remains of a slight frost where the sun hadn't got to when I awoke. I was though a warm day with bright sunshine. Not ideal for trout fishing. It did make for a pleasant drive over The Moors. The sheep, though, were noticeable for the absence especially the lambs. It was the same in the fields by the river. At this time of year all you could hear were the lambs bleating. After a bit of a faff getting my ticket. The pub was shut. The Post Office is inside a tea shop so wasn't open. The only other place I could remember was a tackle shop twenty five minutes away. I then remembered one of the shops sold them. There are only two so I picked on the one with out a queue. Bingo. right first time. The next problem was  the ticket machine for the car park. It didn't except coins. Card or app was the choice. I didn't have my card with me for some reason and as there's no signal there the app couldn't be downloaded. Thankfully somebody told me you could pay in the office. Finally, after a cup of tea, I was on my way to the river.

After checking the temperature of the water by sticking my mit in and confirming it was bloody freezing, I opted for a weighted nymph. There was still plenty of water in the river. It was around six inches above normal summer level. After a couple of hours of nymphing the deeper water with nothing to show for it. I changed to a couple of spiders tied on heavy gauge hooks to get them down. and had some casts around the shallow rifles. After another hour or so I spotted what looked like a rise upstream. I sat and watched for a while. Every now and then there would be two or three rings of ripples under large tree. As I manoeuvred into position I noticed something falling out of the tree and hitting the water producing the same ring of ripples. Looking up I spotted a small bird pulling the buds to bits, the debris producing the ripples. As I was looking in to the sun I couldn't tell what it was. A bit pissed off I was about to turn round and wade back when a fish jumped. Nothing big, but none of them really are big in here.

A couple of casts later I was in. Then I wasn't. A couple of casts later and I was in again. This time it was nearly at the net when it came adrift. A tiny little thing about four or five inches. I then spotted a monster around the twelve inch mark near the bank. The flies landed short and a couple of foot from the bank. Almost immediately I had a take which took me by surprise. I thought I'd missed it, but I saw the line coming towards me. When I did catch up with it it was clearly a good fish for the river, but again it came adrift. A check of the hooks showed they were plenty sharp enough. The fish I'd seen by the bank was still there. Again I fluffed the cast, landing one of the flies on the bank. I pulled gently hoping it would come free and not disturb the trout. Instead it dragged some bankside debris right on top of it and it was spooked. I had one more tiny little thing that  again came adrift, despite changing flies. That was it for the day. 

I suppose I'm slightly closer to catching my first trout of the season. I know very small trout a rather good at wriggling off the hook, especially barbless ones, so I'm not too bothered about that. The larger fish was a bit of a disappointment, bu I hadn't really struck the hook home so can't complain. It was a bit of a strange day though. I use welly foot waders here because there are no boulder strewn stretches and the thick treads are better on the step banks  Today I forgot my thick socks so when I needed to wade my feet felt the cold while I was stood there in a T-shirt getting a sun tan. I could have done with the air-conditioning on the way home, but it wasn't having very much effect. Looks like more expense at the garage.

The Trout Hunt Continues

Friday's weather forecast didn't look great for trout fishing. Sunny with the slight possibility of a bit of cloud in the afternoon. It was, however a warm day with no need of a fleece. As is usual for this time of year the river was devoid of fly life, so I went with the heavy metal as I worked my  way upstream. Apart from a couple of tugs in one swim the only bites I got were from twigs and other debris. ON the way back down stream I changed to streamers.  Fishing them as close as I could to the tree roots. This seemed to result in me spending as much time retrieving them from the roots when they got snagged as I did fishing them. There was only one time I didn't get the lure back, as the water was too deep for me to reach it. The one and only fish I saw was a little jack that followed for a couple of yards.

 
With nothing doing I changed venues to one of the tributaries. I was undecided about tactics. Lure or nymph. As I opened the fly box two of the small, size 12, woolly bugger jig flies fell out. I selected the white one. I fished it through the small deep holes in this tiny little river. At some points it's nearly as deep as it is wide, and it never really gets wide. I reached a glide that has produced trout in the past to dry fly. I flicked the fly downstream while I pulled some line off the reel ready to cast. As I went to cast something hit the fly and a grayling was lifted out of the water. Quickly netted and released I had another go. I let the lure sink  before giving it a tug and was in again. At first it felt like a trout, but the unmistakeable flash of a grayling told me otherwise. A bit bigger than the last. I decided to move on as grayling are out of season and there appeared to be a shoal of them down there. That was it though, no more fish decided to bother me on the short stretch I fished.

My trout season has not got off to a flying start. One blank, a pike, and two grayling. I think I'll have to head up to the Dales or the Moors if I want a trout.

A 'Churn' of Butterbur

For the life of me I couldn't find the folding trout net this Friday morning. With the high banks of my intended destination it's telescopic handle was needed. The scoop net wouldn't cut it. I grabbed a landing net head and a telescopic bank stick instead. What I didn't grab, though, was the six weight rod and the box of streamers. My intention was to fish heavy nymphs on one rod and streamers on the other if the fish weren't rising. In fact I didn't expect them to be rising just yet.

The first thing I did when I got to the river was have a look to see if the Butterbur were still there. I'd had problems identifying them previously, but a chance conversation on Twitter had given me their name. They're a bit of a confusing plant as the flowers appear first then they grow huge leaves after the flowers die. Sure enough there was a large patch of them. I wonder if the collective term for them is a 'Churn'. If not it, it ought to be.

I spent most of the morning fishing heavy nymphs to no avail, apart from a few sticks. The weather was reasonably warm and sunny, but there was no sign of anything hatching nor any fish rising. Early afternoon there were a few patchy rises of what I thought were Grannom, but, apparently there is another sedge that looks a lot like it and hatches earlier. I spent a bout twenty minutes trying to get a picture of one, but they wouldn't settle. Just as I'd given up I spotted one on the lading net and managed a rather indifferent photo of it before it flow off. The hatch was quickly over. Not help by a heavy sharp shower.

After a spot to eat I moved to another stretch. By now a cool breeze had sprung up. After a while with the heavy nymphs again I decided to have a go with some small lures despite only having the weight four with me. Been a ten footer though it wasn't as unpleasant as my previous attempt with a seven foot rod. After half an hour with my preferred white lure I changed to a black version. Second cast I hooked into  what I thought was a good trout. When I got a glimpse of it though it looked suspiciously like a pike. When I picked up the landing net then mesh was snagged round the wing-nut. While I untangled it the jack managed to get under a snag in front of me. After a great deal of heaving from different directions and poking the rod tip into the snag I did manage to land it. I then had to fumble about for the forceps. These were in a pocket and hadn't been attached to a zinger yet. It is only my second trout trip after tidying everything up so things will take a while to get back to normal. The little beastie then flipped back into the river as I went to put it back in the net to release it. At least it didn't damage my fingers. Quite how the leader hadn't been bitten through I don't know. There wasn't even any sign of damage on it.

I did intend to give it another fifteen minutes or so, but it started to hail, so I took that as a sign and packed up.  I had checked to Sand martin site, but there was no sign of them yet.