It was getting on for mid Sunday afternoon before I got down to the river. After reports of fishing topping everywhere on Saturday afternoon, it looked decidedly dreary not really helped by the gusty breeze and spots of drizzle.
Putting on a recently tied daddy long legs, there was loads crawling about in the grass. I decided to see how well it rode in the faster more turbulent water. Very well as it turned out. Third cast and a small fish had a go at it. A couple more casts and I was in, momentarily. I had a few more casts before wandering upstream. With nothing stirring I was just prospecting in various likely looking spots. Apart from the odd tiny tiny dace nipping at the trailing legs, nothing else stirred.
Further on I spotted a reasonable fish under some weed. With a bit of top class casting, and help from a gust of wind, I managed to land the fly with a mighty plop, a good two foot from the weed. No matter, the trout shot out from under the weed and grabbed it. Clearly the feather like touch f the last couple hours had been the wrong approach. After a short, but spirited fight it was in the net. My first trout on dry fly from this stretch, after years of trying.
I was amazed how far it had managed to get such a big fly down it's throat, Thankfully I’d de-barbed the hook, so it was easily removed. Quite pleased with my self I set off upstream to see if I could find any more. I saw nothing more as I neared the top of the stretch, as the skies were starting to darken somewhat I headed back to the car. After a brief shower things brightened up a tad and the wind dropped so I decided to try a different stretch for the last hour before dark.
The only fish that were active seemed to be hoards of tiny dace, so small the couldn't even manage a size 20 IOBO. I did eventually manage to hook a couple of 4" specimens. Hopefully they'll survive the floods and we should see some decent shoals of dace in this stretch again.
There was also a notable increase in frogs and toads becoming active as it got dark, presumably fatting up for their winter hibernation on all the cane flies crawling about.
Had a bank holiday trip out to the local beck for a spot of fluff chucking. With a slight tinge of colour in it and running higher than normal for this time of year it looked quite promising. Especially as I could see a few fish rising up stream of my vantage point on the bridge.
On wandering up I found it was a reasonable shoal of dace rising for something I couldn't make out. It was nice to see them again, as they had all but disappeared after the Christmas floods of 15/16. First cast with a suspender nymph was a little short of the back of the shoal, but the second was taken after a short drift. Quickly hustled away from the shoal so as not to disturb them, a plump little dace was quickly to hand. Two more followed. Unfortunately the third one proved just too much for the shoal, which spoked and scattered upstream. Still, extracting more than one from a shoal in such a small narrow stream isn't bad.
As I waded upstream it was obvious that the flood caused by the recent thunderstorms had made a good job of scouring the sand and silt away as large stretches were now back to gravel. Sadly it had also decimated the water plants that had just started to make a come back after been lost in the 15/16 floods. Although I don't suppose the increasingly heavy tree cover is helping much either.
Having found nothing more the minnows along the rest of the stretch I was back in the car to another length. Again it appeared that there was only the occasional shoal of minnows till I got near the top and spotted several dace rising . As I edged upstream to a point were I could cast at them I failed to notice a smaller shoal until it was too late. They spoked upstream straight into the larger shoal and scattered them as well. Despite this it's nice that they're back. All that’s needed now is for the trout to reappear as they seem to have vanished.
One of the problems when you live some distance from a river you want to fish, and have no contacts in the are, is knowing what state it's in. I can look at GaugeMap and see that the river has fallen quite considerably after the recent rain. There's even a web cam, but it's a lot farther down stream. What I don't really know what colour the river is and as it many years since I fished it regularly I don't know if it's at a suitable level for fishing. My local rivers I know from the levels whether they’re fishable or what a sections are fishable at what levels. One river doesn't fish well above 0.5m on the gauge. An other is OK up to 1m after which only certain sections are fishable. At 2m different sections are fishable. Once it gets above 3m you'll have problems finding the bank.
As it looked to be about 6-7" up on when I'd last visited and with se trout been caught down stream I decided to venture up there and attempt to catch one on fly. In the distant past I'd caught them on worm and spinner, which if the experts are to be believed is the only way you'll get them.
On arrival the river didn't look too bad, coloured, but not heavily. There was a noticeable amount of debris dangling from trees high above the river and worse, the long bankside vegetation was all flattened in a down stream direction making waking upstream hard work.
I'd opted for a sink tip and light fly as I thought this might not snag as much as a weighted fly. For couple of hours I wandered upstream with out sight or sound of a fish when I arrived at one of the larger pools. After a few casts another angler appeared from the upstream section. He'd been fishing spinner and had similar results to me. Just as we were questioning whether the sea trout had got this far one leapt over the shallow riffle at the top of the pool. As I'd just poured a cuppa and stared a sandwich just before his arrival I invited him to have a chuck with the spinner. The only thing he managed to catch were a couple of twigs.
We decided there was little point thrashing this one pool and both set off back the way we came but on the opposite bank. After a while I came to a rather nice looking stretch that was unfishable, and nearly invisible, due to the trees from the other bank. At the end of the second cast there was there unmistakable silver flash of fish turning away just as I lifted the fly from the water. Next cast I was in. The fish quickly kitted across the river into the large eddy and using the back current shot towards me at speed as I frantically gathered line to try and keep contact. Much as I suspected would happen it was solid in the tree roots. I maintained a steady pressure as I entered the water, but it quickly became apparent that it was too deep for wading across. Suddenly everything went slack. Retrieving my fly I was quite pleased I'd manage to hook one even if it wasn't landed.
Further on I came across a hedgehog snuffling about. As I tried to get a decent picture of it with my phone there seemed to be an invisible line I couldn't cross with out it curling up in to a ball. One step back and it would unfurl it's self and carry on it's hunt for food.
After a few more casts in various likely looking holes it started raining and was now starting to get dark. Rather than struggle along the river bank I took to the road and made my way back to the car just in time for a rainbow to appear.
Another few days and the coarse season starts, but I’ll be back up here at regular intervals in pursuit of the trout.
It had just started to rain when I got to the parking spot, much as the weather forecast had said it would. This appeared to be one of the occasional showers, occasionally heavy. I sat in the car supping tea, waiting for it to ease off, which it did after 15 minutes. Wandering to the downstream end of the section didn't inspire me with confidence as I didn't see a single rise.
I started with a small foam beetle fished close to the edge or along the tree line as this was a tactic that had worked well after a rain when terrestrials get knocked out of the trees or bank-side vegetation. Didn't work this time though. Nor did anything else for that matter. For two hours I made my way back upstream with out sign of a fish. I tried spiders, goldhead nymphs, dries large and small, emergers, non of which elicited a thing. I even hauled a couple of lures through a couple of the deeper pools.
Back at the car I met another angler who'd had a couple of fish on the upstream section, before the downpour, but nothing after. He'd even tried worming to no effect . He doubted there would be any point fishing until the evening. Seven O'clock he reckoned. He was right. After spending another couple of hours fishless on another section, I caught my first fish of the day just after seven. This also caused a moment of panic. I reached to the pocket where I keep my phone only to find it unzipped,and empty. No sign of it in the other pockets either. If it had dropped out of the pocket the chances of finding were about nil, given the length of the vegetation and the fact I'd been wading as well. After a while I managed to convince myself I'd left the phone in the car.
I carried on fishing, upstream, with the size 16 Foam Dun that had caught the first fish and managed eleven more before arriving back at the car. The phone was on the parcel shelf, not the best place to leave it really. With about half an hours light left i I had a wander upstream and found several fish rising to olives in a largish pool. One problem though, I couldn't hit a take for love nor money. A change of fly and I was in. A larger than average fish, at seven inches. With plenty of fish still rising and a couple looking a bit bigger I thought I might enjoy some more sport. A couple of mallards had other ideas though. Drifting into the pool with their ducklings before panicking and fleeing, wings flapping downstream right through the pool. Nothing stirred after that, so I took the hint and headed home.
The journey home was not with out incident either. Due to a broken tractor on a single track road, I had to take a different route to usual. This involved going through a few wooded areas and the deer were on the move. Several times I had to brake sharpish as they bounded across the road.
I wandered up and down a mile or so of river on Sunday morning looking for signs of fish. In two hours I spotted half a dozen very small trout, not much bigger than minnows. The previous days storms had had very little effect on the river apart from causing the fish to sulk.
After a spot of lunch I moved to a different stretch of the river. As I wandered downstream I spotted one or two fish rising here and there. Starting with the reliable John Storey soon produce a fish that I'd spotted rising. Wetting my hand in the river ir appear to be noticeably warmer than previous weeks. By now a variety of insects were fluttering about and a change to a foam dun produced fish readily. Despite the abundance of insect life the fish seemed to be shoaled up and I would often take two or three from the same swim before spooking the rest. While other stretches seemed devoid of fish even though there were plenty of insects about.
At one point a hare kindly posed for me while it waited for me to get my camera (phone) out. The moment I pointed the phone at it, it was of stopping a hundred yards away.
By tea time the insect life had all but disappeared on this stretch. I had a look at a couple of stretches, but they looked pretty lifeless so decided to head of home. I decided to make a slight detour via the Rye and was surprised to see several fish rising to a good hatch of mayfly. So, hoping I could finally catch a trout on dry from this stretch. Watching the water it was noticeable that the fish were taking the duns or the spent insects. I tried a DHE first, but couldn't really see it as I was facing into the evening sun so changed to a black klnkhamer. After a couple of casts it disappeared and in came a decent sized, but rather scruffy dace. I took a couple more identical ones before wandering along the river. A couple more dace came to hand before I spotted a couple of trout porpoising mid stream. Second cast, and I was in. This was not one of the fish I'd spotted, it was much bigger. Not the sort of thing my little 7' rod was intended for. Eventually I had it heading back downstream towards me. As it swam past I wondered if I'd hooked a sea trout or salmon, it was very large and silvery. It continued downstream seemingly unaware it had been hooked. A 3lb tippet doesn't allow for a huge amount of pressure to be applied. A quick leap as if to show me it's size. The pink flash confirming it to be a large rainbow about 7-8lb. A another acrobatic display and everything went slack, it had thrown the hook. Oh well, I really wanted a WBT to be my first dry caught fish from here anyway.
I've taken several 'bows, escapees from a fish farm I believe, on lures, maggots and even luncheon meat, but nothing approach the size of the beastie I'd just lost. The two smaller trout I'd seen porpoising early had disappeared. The only fish I could see risng were a large shoal of dace, now taking the spent mayflies. I do hope they'll stick around until autumn when they should be back to shiny bars of silver.
Sunday saw me trying not to interfere with the cyclists as they struggled up some rather nasty climbs on a narrow little moor's road as I headed to the Esk, again.
I was pleased to see a few small uprights fluttering about as I headed to the downstream end of the section I intended to fish. This gave me a hint as to what fly to start with, a small foam olive, which was steadfastly ignored by the rising fish. Opening the fly box, and staring at the river, for inspiration an IOBO fell out so on it went. First cast, a take and first fish to hand. Casting to another fish the fly was again ignored. Another change, to a DHE resulted in more ignoring. This was going to be a trying day. On went the fourth fly of the day, a John Storey and with it a second fish. This proved to be the winning fly for the next hour or so with a dozen fish coming to hand as I wandered upstream casting to rising fish. I also saw a couple of Large Green Duns, a beastie I haven’t seen in a long while, struggling to gain height before a gust wafted them into a bramble patch.
Rounding a bend, I spotted one of the river's larger residents stationed behind a tree root on the far bank. Creeping along the bank to get into a suitable position for a cast I missed my footing as a failed to see a sharp drop in among the now lush vegetation. Flailing around trying not to fall in, break the rod, sprain my ankle, obviously, spooked the fish.
Sitting down for a drink and something to eat a couple of Yellow May Duns fluttered past. One of which was taken by the aforementioned trout, which had magically reappeared, as it alighted on the water. Three more drifted down, two of which were quickly grabbed by the trout. A short while later a few broom petals drifted down with the trout rising to one of them. Rummaging through the fly boxes for something yellow, or even vaguely yellow, proved fruitless. Must tie some OE Yellow Hammers. I had a chuck with the John Storey. This was ignored as the fish preferred, instead, to rise to another broom petal. Impaling a couple of broom petals on the hook proved to be inspired as the fish rose and took the fly, and petals. With the strike the fish shot upstream, only to shed the hook moments later. I wasn't really upset, more surprised it worked at all.
I managed another fish as I headed on upstream, but the river seemed to die with no insects about and no fish rising in the now bright tea time sun.
After a cuppa and something more to eat the river came alive again as the evening cooled. I managed four more on a small Grey Duster, as the John Storey was now been refused, although the takes were becoming increasingly harder to hit. I did, however, find an old ford now no-longer connected to the road as it had been replaced by a modern bridge. I also found a bike frame, something normally associated with inner-city waterways.
Over the years I've been told by many anglers that, little trout in small rivers or streams are greedy and will grab anything that floats past. On occasions they will, but some times they can be really finicky and Sunday's session on a stretch I hadn't fished before proved the point.
Surveying the river from the bridge I watched a chap worming, on the down stream section. He looked somewhat frustrated, having struck and missed, inspecting his hook. As he trudged up to me while I was getting set up I asked " Any Luck?". "Two", he replied, "Been a bloody frustrating morning". He went on to tell me how he'd watch small trout nipping at the end of the worm or even swimming straight past it. "Good Luck! This rivers a real sod when it's this low and clear... and this fish are even worse."
Wandering upstream I spotted a fish rising nest to some trailing branches. Hiding behind another tree I was able to lower the fly onto the water right below the rod tip. The little trout shot out from under the branches, missing the fly and nearly threw it's self out of the water. As I repositioned my feet, to stop myself sliding down the bank, I felt a tug on the rod tip. Trout number one hooked and landed. One of the smallest I've ever caught, on fly.
What followed proved to be an interesting, and frustrating day. Several times trout would rise to the fly and miss. Other times it would be ignored. I ended the day with five fish to four different flies, all dries. It wasn't just artificials they missed either. Sat watching a couple of small olives drift down it took one little fish attempts to grab one.
One amusing incident was while I was have a sandwich and drink, An early daddy-long-legs got blown on the water. A fish swam up to it very slowly before seeming to pull each of it's legs of before grabbing it and swimming away, with the wings clearly outside of it's mouth.
