For some years now my preferred start top the coarse fish river season has been a spot of stick and 'pin on the River Nidd. I'm not bothered what I catch it's just nice to do. A pint of maggots and some hemp was all the bait I took. I rarely fish rivers early morning as I've never found it to be as productive as the evening. I arrived at the car park at three to find it empty, apart from the remains of a bonfire in the middle. While the arrival time was nice for avoiding the traffic it wasn't the best for humping tackle along the bank as it was the warmest part of the day. The breeze was a menace though as it was blowing the grass pollen about. By the time I'd selected a swim my nose was dripping profusely.
This swim I picked was around six foot deep, one of the deeper swims at the top end of the stretch. I had hoped to run a float under the tree down stream, but it was very saggy so just stuck to the middle of the river. A couple of handfuls of hemp were chucked down the swim and half a dozen maggots every trot or so. The hemp was topped up every few casts. After a few casts and some chewed maggots the first fish in was a small chublet. It then took while for the next fish to turn up. A bleak was the next in. I suspect these were the ones responsible for the chewed maggots. For the first couple of hours I only got the occasional chublet of bleak. Around sixish the first of the dace showed up. By now I was getting more bites. While not a fish a chuck the bites were steady.
I was getting a few chub then a quiet patch then a few bleak then the dace would show up. The dace seemed to be at the top of the swim, while the chub came a bit further down. The bleak would just show up anywhere. The bites continued until nineish when everything went quiet. I fished on until I was struggling to see the float. Apart from the odd chublet I did manage to bump off a couple of decent perch rather annoyingly.
A pleasant and generally stress free start to the season. The fish were nothing to write home about, all very much a similar size. Previous seasons I've had more species, but that didn't matter. There is just something rather satisfying about trotting on a river.
While I would describe the weather as a tad windy, that nice Sir Francis Beaufort described it as a Moderate Breeze, which raises dust and loose paper; small branches moved. Either way the wind is a problem when fluff chucking with a light line. A combination of high banks and a gusty wind on a narrow river does make it a fun day Rarely was the wind across the river, it was mainly straight upstream or straight downstream. An upstream wind tends to straighten the cast out a bit too much and downstream the leader doesn't straighten out enough. No matter which way it was blowing what insect life there was was lifted straight into the grass or trees.
The upstream end of the stretch was virtually devoid of fly life and I didn't see one rise as I walked up and down. On the middle length the occasional large dark olive was seen being wiped away off the water very quickly. There was also the occasional damsel fly about. I did however see the occasional fish rising. As there was two or three fish rising together I assumed they were either grayling or dace. This proved to be the case when I put a small parachute duster on and it was engulfed by a dace. Strange thing with dace and flies, you either miss the take or they swallow them rarely do you lip hook them.
For the evening I fished the lower stretch which, apart from the the horses, seemed almost lifeless. There was a few more insects about, but nothing seemed to be rising even when the wind dropped a bit. eventually I did spot a fish rising occasionally close to the bank. The current here was complicated and trying to get a drag free drift proved a bit problematic. By changing banks I was able to get a better drift. After three or four cast I had a take only to drag the fly out of it's mouth in excitement. Despite sitting and watching for a while it never rose again. I spent the last hour casting a likely looking spots to no avail.
The dace always seem to appear around the beginning of June, the disappear come the start of the coarse season. They can become a real menace in a decent mayfly hatch, beating the trout to the fly. The hatches on here aren't prolific, but this year they're been really bad. A non-angling friend that lives nearby has said the same thing. He can go over it several times a day and walks his dog along one stretch a couple of times a week.
This will be my eighth trout trip. So far I've managed a pike, two grayling and two trout. not a great tally. The last couple of weeks I've not been out, mainly due to the weather. It's either been pissing it down or the rivers have been far too high. The main river was still a bit on the high side, but I was hoping the colour had dropped out of it. This turned out to be a false hope as it was still very coloured. Still I spent the morning wandering up and down in the hope of seeing a rising fish as there were a few flies hatching. Large and medium olives and the odd mayfly. While I didn't see a single thing rise I did see a dog otter as it disappeared under water. Some people wandering along the footpath also saw it and wondered what it was. They'd only seen females by the sounds of it and were quite shocked as to the size of the male.
With no sign of fish I moved on to one of the tributaries in the hope it would be a bit clearer. It was even though it was a tad high for the time of year. I had a wander along with a sandwich and cuppa to see if anything was happening. I did find a few hatch flies and fish rising to them, though they appeared to be small grayling. By the time I got back with a rod a few heifers were wandering about in the river. I managed to get between them with out any dramas and headed to the confluence of the two rivers. There was very little happening on the bottom half and it wasn't until I got back to the heifers that I saw anything rising. One fish was clearly a trout which I managed a couple of casts to before the next cast snagged on the back cast. Now I had been looking behind me for the nosey cattle which had stayed at the top of the bank. Except one which had stepped down and was now hooked. Luckily it didn't seem to notice and didn't panic. As I kept the line tight and stumbled along the lower bank it first backed away then turned at which point the fly came adrift, thankfully.
That bit of commotion put the that fish down, but a bit further along another two fish were rising. I now had the added problem of cattle on both banks bellowing at each other. I wasn't sure which group was trying to return to which group and had visions of them all paddling back and forth across the river. I sat watching the two trout rising, trying to see what they were taking. It appeared they weren't been fussy, but neither was remaining in the same spot. They looked to be just swimming about and picking off what ever drifted over their heads at that moment. This is where the John Storey comes in to it's own. Looking nothing like any particular insect it works well when the trout are not been selective. The cattle had now moved further up so casting was now safe.
It took a couple of casts in the general direction of the nearest trout before I got a take. The fish was clearly larger than the one I'd seen and put up a right scrap. I had to move down stream to net it as I was a couple of feet above the water. I didn't want to drop into the river as the sides can be rather sticky soft clay which is a right pain to get out of. A nice silvery brown trout around the 2lb mark was the result. Well worth all the wandering. I assumed to fight would have scared the other fish(es) off, but sat for ten minutes waiting just in case. with no sign of rising fish I started to head upstream. A fish rose in among the trailing branches of a willow just upstream of me. Then I saw one rise along side me where the second fish had been rising earlier. I swung back round to just above the spot I caught the first fish and after a few casts missed a take from the small fish I'd seen rising when I first got to this spot. It looked like there was more than two fish here. After a short wait the large fish started to rise again. After a mishap with the magnetic cow-parsley I managed to get a cast to it it and after a short drift a take. I did think I'd lost it at one point as I was get some line back on the reel in order to prevent the tangle I'd got into with the last fish, but it was still on. A slightly smaller fish, but just as feisty.
I had a look at the fish under the willow, but there was just no way in. A bit further up I bumped a smaller fish. By now the fly life was getting less and less. The only fish I could see rising were little grayling or maybe dace, which were taking smuts. I had another wander up and down , but saw now further action. Contemplating what to do while having another cuppa I looked at the state of the traffic. Four accidents! Googles recommended route was one I'd not have thought of. By the time I'd finished my cuppa the travel times on my normal route were getting very silly. Rather than wait to see if the traffic would clear I set off on the alternate route which turned out to be quite clear and got me home in reasonable a time.
After a slow start to the trout season the two fish have more tan made up for it. My previous biggest fish from this little river was around the 11-12" mark, so these two are not to be sniffed at. With the slow start I think my trout and coarse seasons are going to overlap a bit this year.
The day started dull and drizzly, but changed to thick fog by the time I got onto the top of The Moors. Thick fog and Ewes with lambs is not a good combination. The lower the visibility the more likely the dozy ruminants are to be on the road. Thankfully there was very little traffic about so the occasional bit of evasive action wasn't a problem. I was listening to the latest Countryfile Podcast with Kevin Parr about Adders, among other things. If it hadn't been so foggy I'd have stopped somewhere and had a wander round looking for one. The soggy Moors are not the place to be wandering far in the fog on your own though.
The river, as expected, was a few inches up and peat stained. It looked quite good, apart from the lack of fly life. I worked my way up using a duo rig with a black klinkhammer and a gold bad pheasant tail. I had the occasional poke nose around the gorse and scrub for adders, but like the fish they appear to be absent. A change to a gold bead red tag nymph produced a couple of knocks dragging the klink off to one side or the other. Three noisy oyster catches circled round me a couple of times before heading back across the fields.I was then witness to a few martins, both house and sand, as well as a few swifts swooping over the river in the hope of food.
I eventually spotted a couple of risers and after a a knock or two on the nymph a trout hit he klink the moment it hit the water. Quite a decent fish for the river. After this I suffered the attack of the mini trout including one that leapt over the fly. In the past I've watched them, in clear water, rise of the bottom and launch themselves in the direction of the fly. Sometimes they hit it and you may be lucky enough to hook one. Often they miss. Sometimes when there's a couple of them the faster of the two will end up in the air. It's great to watch, but very frustrating if you're trying to catch.
I tried changing to a smaller emerger pattern, but they didn't seem interested in it. With the klink back on the hits continued for a while before fading away. I moved on but got no more action at all. As I walked back towards a gate between two fields the sheep in the far filed stampeded toward me. Stood staring for a little while before heading up the hill. Not sure what breed they are but it was rather strange behaviour.
The weather forecast for Friday was not bad, or good. Intermittent/ isolated showers, this means it'll rain on me but there'll be sunshine over there. The river had been up a foot on Tuesday, but dropped back down nine inches by Friday. There was still a bit of colour in it, not as bad as I'd expected though. The ewes and their lambs had been turned out into the field on the opposite bank and were making a right racket. I spent the morning throwing streamers about with out an success. As lunch time came around the skies darkened, but swept over with only a bit of drizzle.
After lunch I headed to a shallower section to fish the duo. Heading to wards the river hail started to come down. The horses trotted to shelter under the trees, the cattle and sheep just lay in the open ignoring it. After a while the sun came out and my nice black jacket went from being nice and snug to an oven with the sun on my back. With the sun came a hatch of sedge, but no sign of trout looking up. I'd worked my way to the top of the stretch when it started to darken again and a steady drizzle of the extra wet type started. I really was rather wet by the time I got back to the fence post I'd left my waterproof on, and forgotten about.
As I was putting the waterproof back on a fish rose near the bank. I licked the rig just upstream of the rise and almost immediately the the dry sedge shot upstream. A chunky 10" trout had grabbed the nymph. Apart from one leap when I struck it came in with out much of a struggle. By now the rain had turned to sleet. Wrestling the phone with wet hands I somehow managed to alter the settings. This meant the flash went. I abandoned any more prodding about with the phone, returned he fish and headed back to the car. First trout of the season. Sadly there's no video of it either as I had zipped up the jacket and aha been videoing the inside of the coat.
As I headed back to the car there was a long loud rumble of thunder. I sat in the car with a cuppa looking for some sign of brightness but it didn't look like it was forthcoming so made my way home. The combination of sleet and loose chippings on the road newly surfaced made dodging a stray peacock more stressful than it should have been. Despite the fact it had hardly rained at home it had persisted on and off for much of the evening where I was fishing.
With appointments on Friday morning fishing was going to be afternoon into evening, but the weather forecast was iffy at best. In the cloudy weather and chilly breeze, despite the trees turning green and the dandelions along bank, the river looked rather uninviting. I decided on a klink and dink rig to run over some of the shallower runs as I'd been concentrating on the deeper holes previously. As I popped over the flood bank two cute little furry faces were looking up at me from the river. A pair of young otter disappeared under the water with a trail of of bubbles Probably last year's pups. There's been otters on here for years so I wasn't too worried they don't seem to have affected the fishing much at all.
After about an hour of fishing with only a few twigs to show for my efforts. At no point had I seen any thing rise. This was hardly surprising as I'd seen nothing hatching. While hatches on here are generally not prolific I'm surprised not to have seen anything on my trips here. With darkening clouds I arrived at a stretch where the river has pushed past the wooden piles. Second cast something took a lunge at the dry fly, taking me by surprise. Despite reasonable reactions I failed to contact. I managed a couple more casts over the area before the rain started. I waded across the river to try running the rig down the tree line. Fourth cast I was in the trees .By now the rain was getting rather heavy so after retrieving the flies I retire to the car. While partaking of a cuppa the rain eased off the got heavier several times. A look at the rain radar suggested this may go on for some time, so I set off home. I really dislike been wet and cold while try to fly fish.
A natter with another angler who'd failed to catch trotting worms. I assured him there was trout in the river, some very good ones at that. The fact a fish went for the dry fly was encouraging just a pity the weather didn't cooperate, but it is a bank holiday weekend.
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.
