Pinch, Punch, First of the Month..

My daughter is first off the mark.  She delights in pinching and punching dad and I can’t help noticing her punch is getting stronger.  I take her for a sports trial in the morning and I plan on a couple of hours on the river this evening.  She’s nervous, plays well, and I enjoy the morning with her. 

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A few miles above Usk

It’s another day in our current heat wave and we have no rain to speak of for weeks.  So much for my little rain dance last weekend.  With river levels this low, the trout will seek out the oxygenated water, lay low in the margins or hold in deeper, cooler pools.

This beat, a few miles above Usk, is a lovely place to spend a few hours.  It’s a long track down to the river and I’m surprised to find no other cars at the bottom.  A fine Summer evening, and I’ve got a mile of the Usk to myself.  As I ease myself into the water , there’s a huge splash near the bank below me and I turn just in time to see what looks like a good fish, bellyflop back into the pool.  Encouraging.  A few clouds roll in, and the evening will be a mix of bright sunlight with overcast intervals.

There are small and frequent rises all along a food seam where some faster water trails away.  I work my way upstream and one by one the trout hit my dry fly.  I’ve struggled at times this season with the dry.  Not so much hitting the hook up, but rising fish have ignored fly after fly as I hunt for the right pattern.

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Small Usk Brownie

Not this evening.  I start with a tiny Klinkhammer pattern and straight away I get a take and a lovely little wbt is to hand.  Several more follow to the same fly.  Unusually, I’m on my game and I’m 100% on hook ups, not even a long range release!

I notice a larger fish about 40 feet directly upstream.  I creep up and after several reasonable casts, fail to get a take.  I guess maybe he’s onto something different and there are little midges everywhere.  I look for the one of the smallest black patterns I have.  It’s probably technically a Griffith’s Gnat, size 20.  Second cast and I’m in, but rather than the thump I’m expecting, a relatively modest 12″ brownie comes to the net.  He has a nasty looking wound on the flank and probably thinks he’s down on his luck, but I get him back in the water in a few seconds.  Unsure if this is the larger fish I think I see, I cover the same water, pick up a couple of smaller fish, but no sign of Mr Big.

 

My best fish of the evening also falls to the black gnat.  It’s a well marked 14″ fish that literally jumps into the net.  I hook him directly across stream and he immediately runs below me.  With a size 20 hook and 010 tippet I adopt the ‘gently persuasive’ rather than ‘full on bully’ approach.

Two hours on the river, 9 fish and a very pleasant evening.  This is why I love fly fishing the Usk.

On the short drive home, there’s an interesting sound from the Land Rover.  More like a transmission problem than engine, is my gut.  If you drive an old Defender, these things become expected and nothing to worry about.  After all, a worrier doesn’t buy a Defender.

It’s a Sunday to remember for all the good reasons.  Let’s see what Monday (and the rest of July) brings.

Mr Notherone

 

A Sneaky Few Hours…

The little track down to the Usk is overgrown and unlikely the right way.  I’ve been here before though, so I know I’m only a few hundred yards from parking up and only a few more from the river.

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Downstream On The Usk

The path is overgrown too and I take my time, a slip here could spoil my afternoon.  The river looks spot on, just the right height, running clear, but it’s sunny and the water still feels cold

I’m grabbing a couple of hours on a middle Usk beat at the last minute.  Today was supposed to be busy with other stuff, but no complaints, I’m on the river.  I’ve seen so few rises this season that when I spot a fish rising on the far bank as I walk down the beat, I stop and plan my approach.  This turns out to be one of just five rises I see.  I catch two of the five in the first hour, presumably I’m too clumsy for the others.  I’m pleased that my size 18 olive emerger does the trick as today I’m only fishing a dry fly and I pass over the faster water at the top of the beat, in favour of the more likely dry fly water.  My first cast is good enough and a 12″ brownie comes to the net, followed ten minutes later by another.

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Today resembles one of those days that I yearn for during the colder months, perfect in every respect, apart from the distinct lack of fish.  It’s a similar story to a week ago and a week before that.  Everything looks just right, except the fish don’t show.

I continue to prospect with the dry, concentrating on the far bank and I manage to rise and catch two more brownies to the olive emerger and an Adams.

A hundred yards upstream is a family messing around with a dog splashing in the margins, so I slow down and take a break.  I just sit, take a drink and watch the river.  There are some duns coming off and I see two yellow mays, but no fish are interested.

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Fell To An Olive Emerger

I’m tempted to stay longer but I’ve promised my daughter a barbecue.  I can catch some more if I work the faster water with nymphs but as this is a dry fly day, I call it a day.

On the way home, near Raglan, I’m held up by a driver doing 25mph.  Driving a Defender, it’s rare that I find much going slower than me.  There’s a certain irony that the ‘go slow’  is driving a Suzuki Swift.  I bide my time, drop down a gear and plant my right foot.  There’s a three to four second pause as the land rover tries to work out what’s happened, before doing it’s best to respond.  It’s quite possibly the first time I overtake anything moving in my Defender.

Today I enjoy a few hours on the Usk on a warm Spring day and catch four smallish trout on a dry fly.  Nothing too remarkable.  However, I’ll remember the day for the rush of adrenaline as I see the Suzuki driver mouthing “hooligan” in my mirror as he eats my dust.

Mr Notherone