Skinny Water Fly Practice

[irongustavius]

Afternoon all,

So in preparation for an upcoming skinny water hike and trout mission (one or two of the forum members may well be familiar with this), I went back to the Central West on the long weekend and decided to get a wee bit of fishing in. There's a few lovely little streams nearby, and having caught the odd rainbow on hardbody lures, I happen to know for a fact that there are fish in there - elusive sure, and small to boot, but real live finned and scaled beasties.

The creek is lovely, there's an old bridge going over a small pool, riffles, runs and rapids, the whole shebang.

My brother came along with the camera . . . so thank him for the horrible photos of an amateur fly fisherman ruining the notion that fly fishing is a graceful sport.

I thought it might be a good idea to work a few flies along the rocky wall.

No joy. We worked our way downstream, stopping at likely looking pools and having a stab at them.

Still nothing. We did encounter one of the less fortunate local residents though.

Trout weren't the only things in the water. Hell, were there even trout in the water?

It certainly looked trouty, but nothing was happening on the fly front.

No love that day at all.

The following afternoon I went for a fish without my brother, so no photos. I did bump into a local man who was also fly fishing, so between us we stalked our way up the river. It was good to fish with someone else, he was definitely more observant than me, I only started to notice a few gentle rises when they were pointed out to me. So we stalked upriver, like I said, and drifted various combinations of nymphs under royal wulffs / emergers through likely lies. No fish resulted, until we came across a nice pool on the river bend.

We could see at least two trout rising at the top of the pool, but the overhanging willows made achieving the distance difficult. My new friend Ian eventually got onto a small rainbow, it took a green unweighted nymph hanging below a mad dog. I had a crack at the other fish in the pool, and managed to get a decent distance side cast up to the spot the trout were rising. A few deep breaths as I watched the caddis emerger drift through the feeding zone, then an almighty swirl as the fly was engulfed! Then . . . many rude words as I struck too quickly and dropped the fish

That was pretty much the evening done for me, the coming dark and massive frustration meant I was struggling to get my head back in the game. We fished on for about an hour longer, but no more action. Still, a fishing mate was met and phone numbers exchanged so, next time I'm back home, I'll have a fly fishing pal to make the lack of action a little more tolerable

[taloyoak]

Right on Angus,

Great photos- that old cobblestone bridge looks fantastic- very aesthetically pleasing!

Pity about not bagging out- but on fly, it matters not how many you land, it is about making great casts, seeing rises, listening to the stream running, the birds chortling, spending times with friends and exploring.

Thanks for the report and photos.

Matt