Yesterday, for a change, I managed to leave work at a decent time. I popped home for a quick bite to eat (left over pizza from the night before is an excellent, quick post-fishing meal) and headed off for a few ours on the river.
I arrived at the Linzford stretch at 6:30pm, more or less the same time the sun decided to take cover behind a big grey cloud, and not return for the rest of the day. This was particularly annoying as the temperature dropped almost instantly and rain felt like it was only a moment away.
Despite the weather letting itself down, the river looked pretty good. A hatch of some sort was happening – various sized flies coming off the water, but not a fish to be seen rising. If anything a few extra inches of water wouldn’t have gone a miss, I wondered if the rain in the air might not do some good. Hold that thought for a while…
I walked upstream, chucking a duo (orange post Klink with gold head hares ear beneath) into any likely looking spots. The further I walked, the less I chucked. I’d seen one and a half fish rise (couldn’t be sure if the second one was a fish, or my imagination, so I’ll give it a half) and neither(?) were to my fly.
I walked all the way through the wooded section and out into the open. I carried on until the sharp left bend, with no takes, rises or any other sort of interest from the fish I decided that was as far as I needed to walk, turned on my heels and headed back.
Same story all the way back – there is a pool just before the wall of stone that I always see rising fish in, and almost always tempt one out of. This time, not a thing.
A low point
This got me thinking dark thoughts. Up until this point I’d had the usual “there’s no fekkin’ fish in this river” mantra running through my head. But now it was getting worse, much worse.
I started to wonder, I should tie on a lure and drag it through the next deep pool I come across. I’d swore when taking up river fishing with a fly not to use a lure. I wanted to at least try and keep things as ‘proper’ as I could, but after such a crap start to the season, my resolve was weakening.
Despite the temptation I held on, deciding to tie a different nymph on (without the Klink) instead. But still no action. I was getting close to where I needed to leave the river and head back to the car. It was shortly after this that I had what I can only call, the darkest moment in my river fishing career.
I had the awful thought that maybe I should jack this fishing lark in, and go back to playing golf! At least you know there is a hole at the end of the fairway to put that little white ball into – right now I’ve no idea if there are any fish in this bloody river or not.
I shuddered just then typing it, god knows what I was doing even thinking it. I’m over it now after giving myself a good talking to, but really need to catch some fish pretty soon.
So after almost three hours, I had 0 fish, 0 rises to my fly, 5 flies sacrificed to the trees/river bed and one moment of weakness.
Coffee coloured and high
Today my son was at football themed birthday party, daughter at a school concert. That gave Mrs NEFF and I a rare few hours to ourselves. We headed out to a pub near where I fished yesterday for a bite to eat and a cheeky pint. On the way home we passed the Linzford road bridge, the video below is the sight that greeted us.
[vimeo 66474920 w=600]
It’d been raining for most of the day, I hadn’t realised it had been coming down as hard and as long as it must have been to have caused this, but it really was flying through. A bit more water in the Derwent wouldn’t have gone a miss, this is taking it to the extreme!
I’d hoped I might sneak out for an hour or two on Sunday, I think I’ll give it a miss now.