The last time I'd been on this stretch was for a work party a month or so ago. Since then the greenery had become even more luxuriant. Avoiding tripping over the fallen trees wasn't easy as they were now hidden. The wading staff saved me from falling head first in nettles or brambles on more than one occasion.
The first fishable spot I got to a fish, or two, were rising every now and then. First cast with a CDC & Elk Caddis snagged a sycamore on the back cast. The next cast I landed it on another sycamore branch over the beck. Swim ruined as I waded up to retrieve the fly. Some precarious wading through sunken logs and soft sand got me round the corner where I saw another rise. This time I landed it with perfection the the middle of the beck where it was immediately snaffled by a little 4" WBT.
Around the next corner was along low stretch. I don't like wading stretches like this as a bow wave is pushed ahead of you spooking fish. Luckily the fish rising on the next bend didn't seem bothered. With some sort of bizarre underhand roll cast, due the the low branches, I was able to land a fly with in a couple of feet of it's last rise. To my surprise it took nearly straight away. It felt like a reasonable fish, but it managed to get the line wrapped round a twig embedded in the sand. I got it to the surface but it shook it's self free with the aid of the twig.
Another fish was lost when it dived into the woody debris it was rising near. I then spooked another On a slow shallow length with my bow waves.
As I headed upstream i had a few speculative casts here and there as the appeared to be enough room to wave the rod about. I still managed to snag the fly a couple of times but was able to retrieve it. I then missed a take. At the next corner I missed a take from a rising fish. I then had to retreat back down stream as there was hell of a log jam and the banks were too high and sheer to clamber out. Trying to navigate through the vegetation to bypass the log jam I sort of misplaced the beck for a while.
When I did find it I could see three fish rising along the length. The first near some tree roots. For the life of me I couldn't get a decent drift the fly being dragged away from the roots by the current. I moved forward a bit and managed to drift it past the spot then lost sight of it. I saw a rise in the vicinity of where I thought it was and struck. This was a nice fish for the beck. After a bit of a battle it was in the net. A lovely chubby little beast of 10" with which I was well pleased. The other fish rising on the opposite bank was far easier to cast too and took the fly with barely a ripple. Not as big as the first at 8" or so but equally welcome.
I'd notice a 'wind knot' in the tippet while landing the previous fish so I retied the fly having chopped off the last couple of inches of line. While doing this the third fish rose again. It took half a dozen cast before it took the fly. After splashing about on the surface it dived behind a sunken log. I waded up but by the time I got there the line parted. Despite snagging all sorts this was the first fly I'd lost. It seemed like a hint to go home. Especially a the corner seemed unwadeable do to it's depth. The trek back wasn't easy. Lots of stumbling over hidden logs and and plainly visible brambles. An attempt at a short cut came to an end with a blackthorn thicket. following the beck was easier. Not a bad three hours. Twelve fish rising, three spooked, three missed, three lost, and three landed for one fly lost.
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