A Great Spring Trout Fishing Session

Having finished breakfast I listened to the weather forecast on BBC Radio 4 it was just before 7 'clock having heard the weather I realised it could be a nice day for Spring trout fishing. Breakfast over I collected my tackle bag, rod and gun then headed to the garage, outside the house it certainly looked to be one of those delightful mornings for fly fishing, walking or bird watching. I planned to do all three, Following a twenty minute drive I pulled into the Edisford Hall syndicate car park finding just one car which was a surprise, I expected more members to be on the river.

Taking my gun from its case I loaded the weapon then set off to check my mink and grey squirrel traps. After an hour of trudging though some heavy under growth, pushing my way through Hawthorne bushes, brambles and some barbed wire I had nearly finished checking my traps, Before I could go off and cast a fly, I had a tough climb down a very steep bank to check a trap at the waters edge, then it was back up the bank making sure I missed the barbed wire. Reaching the top of the bank I took a breather before making the long walk back to the carp park. Not a single mink, but I did get 2 squirrels, it seems as if I might have that cruel ruthless killer the mink under control. Hopefully it will be the same for grey squirrel in the not too distant future.

As I walked back down the track I spotted a jay one of our wariest of birds, then another quickly followed by four more, Sitting on the ground with my back to the base of an oak tree I focussed my Swarovski EL 8.5 x 42 on the group of birds twenty feet away three of the birds were preening then going around in circles before stretching their wings before picking at the underside of their wings in what looked like a cleaning process. two birds flew slowly away towards the oak tree I was sitting under. After sitting on a branch above my head for some ten minutes they then flew down onto the ground and proceeded to stretch their wings then preening themselves.

After twenty or more minutes I moved on I had a trout to catch. On my walk back to the car park I spotted a pair of Coal tits going about their business of collecting nesting material, crossing the field to the river I walked downstream to Sycamore pool I reckon there must have been more than thirty or more sand martins swooping low over the water picking off (Trichoptera) known as sedges a roof shaped fly and far different from the up winged flies, Sedges were hatching off in their hundreds. Its the first good hatch of spring these were Grannom. the first hatch of sedges in Spring. I didn't need to look for signs of trout, I could hear them swirling or plopping which is typical behaviour of trout feeding on sedges. I reckon these Grannoms will be coming off for the next week offering some good fly fishing for the members.

Flying high above the sand martins were four Oystercatchers in their black and white plumage, orange bill and pink legs who were giving me a wonderful display of flying with their shrill call of 'kleep-kleep-kleep-kleep I reckon its a rather haunting sounding call when first heard in January. On the water feasting on the mass of drowned in some cases egg laying sedges were a dozen mallard seven drakes and five ducks. Downstream were a pair of dippers feasting on these aquatic insects along with several chaffinches.

Back in the cabin I put the kettle on, then put together my dry fly outfit, choosing to use my Thomas and Thomas 8 foot Heirloom glass fibre rod which I find perfect for dry fly work in calm conditions, Its as near to the action of a bamboo rod as I can get. Attaching a small Ross reel with a Rio floating line, I tied on a nine foot knotless leader then two foot of 3lb fluorocarbon, the latter being used to ensure I have a few inches of sunk tippet. nothing is worse than the end of tippet floating on the surface. After a mug of tea, a chat with Tony a fellow member I moved off upstream to Sycamore pool where I had seen so much action earlier in the day.

Fish could be seen and heard swirling and plopping all over the river, as they gorged on the mass of Grannoms coming off. For several minutes I sat watching a fish close to the far bank in less than a minute I watched this fish take four sedges off the water, it was like shucking peas. Sitting at the waterside I tied on a Pat Russell tying of a Grannom, moving into position I made a forty foot long cast dropping the fly a few feet ahead of the taking fish, as the imitation floated downstream I made an upstream mend then lifted the rod at the same time taking in slack line. the fly drifted over the fish with no response from my quarry. I made three more casts with the same result Nothing. It was time to move on. as I did so the fish again swirled on the surface the slurped down another sedge.

A few yards upstream I spotted another good size fish, this was my next target. A cast of some thirty feet the fly dropped like thistledown it drifted a foot then it was gone. A few minutes later I was removing the barbless hook from a nicely over wintered brown trout of about a pound. Drying off the fly I hooked it in one of the guides then around the reel. There is nothing worse than allowing the leader to be under tension over the top guide as you will be left with a kink in the leader then moved in search of another fish. I quickly hooked and landed two more fish and lost another.

I decided to go back downstream and try for the first fish which that ignored my offering. Sitting on the bank I watch the fish take a succession of grannoms and the odd olive. As I sat watching the action a mall frog started to swim from the opposite bank towards my bank. In the past couple of days I have seen several frogs and one toad cross the river. On two occasions I rescued two of the frogs then released them in the field. I sat watching this frogs swimming for his life and willing him to succeed, Suddenly he disappeared in a swirl and bow wave. That was a good fish, I suspected a chub. Meanwhile the trout close to the far bank was still taking sedges. I made three casts, each time the fish swirled at my fly and each time I missed on the strike. Back on the bank I had a think about the situation then decided I hadn't done anything wrong. It was just bad luck.

The fish was a challenge, but I wasn't about to give up. Sitting on the bank in the warm sunshine I watched the fish continually taking flies off the surface, the number of chaffinches and sand martins had increased. I decided to wade out into the stream where I thought I might get a better drift and hopefully get a hook up. Pulling off some line I made two false cast's then dropped the fly three feet about the feeding fish, as it drifted downstream I made a small upstream mend then lifted the rod a couple of feet to rake in some slack. The fish as it had done with all the naturals sucked in the fly as it swirled on the surface. This time I set the hook, a good fish powered off downstream. After several good runs when I was forced to give line, I started to win the contest putting some line back on the reel. Then disaster as the fish jumped then crashed back in the water then shooting off fast downstream. Suddenly I was left with a limp line fluttering in the air. was gutted at losing that fish,

Sitting on the bank I tied on another fly, as I did so I looked for another fish to target. I spotted a nice fish slurping down sedges under a willow bush fifteen yards upstream, After moving into a suitable position so I could make a good cast which would allow me to drift the fly over the feeding fish. I spend five minutes watching the fish before pulling some line off the reel before wading well out from the bank to a spot where I could drop the fly upstream the bush for a nice drift. After watching the fish take two sedges I made a cast, it was a spot on drift that was as good as I could wish for. The fish full of confidence sucked in the fly with a resounding plop. I tightened, then felt a lively fish move up and across the river in its bid for freedom. After a few minutes of give and take I had the fish to hand. Another good over wintered brown trout which I reckon could perhaps have gone two pounds. Slipping out the barbless hook I pointed the fish upstream then watched it swim off strongly. Fifteen minutes later I had another fish about twelve ounces. Thirty minutes later I left the river bank for a late lunch, it was just after one 'clock when I got a phone call from my friend Mick Holgate, as we chatted an owl called from a standing group of beech trees. Making my way back to the cabin, I thought "That's been one of the most pleasant sessions I have had when spring trout fishing.