The Fog On The Moors Is Mine All Mine

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.

Good Grief, A Trout

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.

So Near, Again

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.

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.

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.