A Troutfishing Playground.

So I and Jacob ended up in the odd town of Gore once more. We spent our noon in front of our computers at the city library. Unfortunately it was a Saturday and the library closed at 1 pm which left us with no other option than to roam the streets of Gore in the cold, grey and windswept afternoon whilst everything, except Pizza Hut, was closed. We had ourselves a pizza as desired and then, out of boredom, we decided to go and checkout the “magnificent” trout statue in front of the Mataura bridge.

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The sign says, “World Capital of Brown Trout Fishing”, which we thought of as a rather grandeur statement. Having all the time in the world we started to search for clues about the statement. I’ve heard a rumor that one, somewhere in Gore, can observe huge trout which aren’t allowed to be fished for. We cruised over to the I-site and asked a few questions. The rumor came to be partly true.

– There is a place in Gore where one can observe trout.

– The fish are allowed to be fished for.

Those were the facts that the I-site gave us. And so we headed for the spot which is the Mataura Bridge that one crosses right after entering the town. After a walk across the bridge we were quite surprised – there seemed to be hundreds of trout congregated under the bridge. But yet another fact came to our disposal; the trout weren’t exactly huge.

A little disappointing. However, they were big enough to be frothed at by any trout hunting super-villain.

We found a nice fish rising head ’n’ tail just below the bridge, a trout that became our first target. Catching it was harder than we thought and after a hundred tries with numerous diffrent flies he finally grabbed a purple/grey mayfly.

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Not the monster I hoped for but still just big and strong enough to satisfy my daily needs.

Jacob had already started to explore further upstream and said that he’d only spooked one and that he haven’t seen any rises, so I lowered my expectations. But the greatest of havens away from bitterness on a grey day like this was just around the corner. We found this quite deep run, deep as in compared to the rest of the river which is fairly shallow. In this run the breeze just didn’t blur the surface; it remained just as lean and flat like it would’ve been in more lenient weather conditions. In this little section which was just big enough for two fishermen to swing side by side, there were at least 15-20 fish rising heads first, tails last, and did so at least twice every ten seconds.

It was a pure delight to witness. I started casting when my draw after fish reached an unhealthy level. But, just because the fish I caught earlier accepted this purple/grey mayfly we thought all of these fish would do the same. To our disappointment nothing happened even though letting the fly drift by felt like hurling a bowling ball over a minefield. Drift after drift, our flies got denied.

After a few changes at the end of the line I finally made the right choice – Parachute Dad’s favorite size 16 made the day.

We caught a total of 10 fish within 30 meters, all around 2 pounds.

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The fish were really strong so we had a fair amount of fun even after the takes. The best moment, as seen in the picture, was when we caught one on the same time. It produced a fun picture as both of us forgot that we looked like we’re taking a dump in the woods. Well, a cold windy afternoon in Gore couldn’t get better than that.

During the next two days the goddess of weathers was on our side. As we ran down to our new little playground, the sun shined bright on our even brighter souls just to make sure we couldn’t get any more excited about the coming day. A playground for fly fishing, that’s exactly what this river is. One can do whatever one feels like. Even if it’s casting a fly out to spotted fish in the shallow riffles, casting out to rising fish, stalking cruising fish under the willows or even just hurling a dry or nymph blindly into a strong current – it all will catch fish.

I kind of favor stalking cruising fish under the willows, that’s one thing that gets my adrenalin pumping. Best part is that those fish usually accept most flies if one makes a stealthy approach and a fine cast. The whole thing actually feels like the video games Splintercell or Mission Impossible. It’s just so exciting to avoid being seen while trying to make a careful precise cast.

Here’s some of the fine fish that we caught just outside of town.

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After these two days I left Gore with Alex and Jacob to, once again, defile our precious little Duckwing River. Targeting large trout only! Stay tuned for results!

Pizz!

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