Dry Fly Bonanza

Toying with the idea of having a few hours out on the river last night but once I got home that was it, I just couldn't get the motivation so this morning when I seen how good a day it was, after I got some stuff done that I had to, I set off for the river just after 1030am. There was another angler just setting up as I arrived and we exchanged greetings as he set off in front of me.

As I approached the river I seen that the other angler was starting off where I had planned so I left him to it and wandered far upstream to give him plenty of room which would allow me to fish back downstream to where he was. I must have walked for 15 - 20 minutes before I remembered a place I knew which if there was any hatches, it would probably happen there so I made my way to this location, its tight and plenty of overhanging cover for the fish and a nice challenge to fish.

I sat and watched to see if any fish were rising before settling on what method to fish and sure enough within 5 minutes of sitting watching I seen fish rising in various places, so mind made up dry fly it was.

As I started fishing, trout started obliging to my fly, lovely small wild brown trout.

The fish kept coming for the next hour, mainly the size above with a few very small Grayling mixed in but great fun and lightning reflexes to hook the fish, I lost count of how many fish I missed.

Taking a break I  watched the wagtails that kept making their way up and down the river, but also keeping an eye on a trout which was rising quite constant just behind the wagtails against the bush in the background and by the look of it a better stamp of fish than the other fish already captured.








When I felt that I was confident enough that the fish was feeding I pulled out some line and staying low cast about 10 ft upstream of where I knew he was, as the fly passed over where he was rising my hands were getting twitchy and sure enough up he came and took the fly, game on......the cane rod had a proper bend in it.

After a couple of quick photos off he swam faster than he had came out to give sport another day, none the worse for his experience.

Continuing to catch trout but the size had dropped back to the ones before, not that I was complaining as they were great sport.








After a short period the rising trout died away and it was tell tale smutting Grayling that were left, I sat and had something to eat to see if anymore trout would make an appearance and as I was sitting having a drink a good hatch of March Brown's decided to make an appearance.

The trout soon turned back onto them and it wasn't too long till I had another few small trout caught and then I was hooked into another good fish, only to be lost as the hook hold slipped.

My next couple of fish were Grayling and fighting fit with plenty of energy in them, all of similar size.









Deciding to start heading back downstream I wandered past the screeching greylag geese on route.

I seen another good fish rising so after a short time of watching him I made my way across and cast, nothing on the first pass, or 2nd or 3rd and I was beginning to think it wasn't interested on what I had to offer so once last cast and bang it hammered the fly and shot off at a rate of knots only describable as missile speed.

After his run downstream he turned and came back upstream but behind a snag I had seen just under the surface and sure enough once he had got around the back of it the tippet and fly parted and the line went slack.

As I made my way downstream and caught sight of the other angler, still in the same place where he had started so I approached him and we started chatting. I asked if he had caught any and he informed me he had only caught one small trout but this was only his second season as a river fly fisherman. He was all ears when I started telling him of my last few hours exploits and said he was just about to move upstream....I suspect in the direction of where I had been fishing!!

Continuing downstream and into the wood which was carpeted in a sea of colour from the flowering wild garlic.

every now and again another splash of colour from the wild forget me not and red campion flowers amongst the sea of white garlic.

I sat and watched to see if anything was moving along the deep water which ran parallel to the wood bank and every now and again the tell tales rings of fish rising appeared,but there was no real space to get a cast out so I continued walking to the bottom of the wood where the water started to become more broken and wade able, 20 minutes or so seen me capture another couple of trout and miss another load.

Deciding to head back upstream in the direction of the car, I took another track through the woods, high above the sea of garlic where the bluebells were more dominant.







As I dropped down the bank back towards the car the marsh marigolds and primulas adorned the side of the banking and the meadow below.

The wind had started to pick up and there wasn't much in the way of fish movement anymore so that was it I called time and as I walked back to the car recalled the 21 trout which I had managed to fool into taking my dry fly with the Grayling as a fall back but with many many more missed, a definite dry fly bonanza of a day.