A Dear Reunion

Having a day off in the middle of the week allowed me to hit my favourite stream before it got a huge ball punch from the horde of spin-fishermen that usually invades the shores of it during the afternoon.

I just shortened this entry to be more about fishing than about my hateful feelings for the horrid river raiders. I can’t believe that there’s actually a spinning rod named “Savagear Raider”, as if it’s made for savage river raiders.


The wind pushed downstream fairly hard this noon. Rain had caused the water level to be a bit over average but luckily the water had remained fairly clear. The absence of rising fish was about to drag my mood down but the company of the bright sun made up for it. I was sure that the heat in combination with all the fresh rainwater would summon something nice for me at some point of the day.

The minutes drifted by without any disturbance on the surface coming from below, I tried a couple of blind casts with a streaking caddis but without result. I remembered that I’ve seen hundreds of lemmings this year, way more than usual, so I decided I’ll set up the 6wt rod with a mouse imitation tied on to it.

I tried to use my peripheral vision to set up the rod so that I didn’t have to let my eyes off the river surface. This probably doubled the time it takes to set up the rod, which was a good thing; because right before it was set up I saw a rise just in the middle of the stream. The ripples dissolved quickly after the rise due to the wind, so I couldn’t really judge the size of whatever the creature was who made it.

Small caddis was struggling in the wind while trying to touch the surface. These were just as big as the streaking one I had tied on to my 4wt. It was clear that the mouse imitation had to wait; I grabbed my 4wt rod.

The wind didn’t interfere as badly with my casting as I thought, the fly landed gently at the right spot on the first cast. But nothing happened on cast one nor cast two nor cast three. I even tried to stripe it a bit across the surface but nothing happened.

After way too many attempts I tried to twitch the fly in a realistic manner just for the joy of it. It actually looked pretty real. But as I played with the caddis over the spot of the rise something emerged from the depths. The curious fish followed the fly for a bit, clearly interested. Lucky for me, the fish accepted the fly as a real caddis and allowed itself to be fooled. At first, I thought it to be a grayling but I realized quickly that this was something much better!



This wonderful trout did look familiar to me. So I had a glance through my archives and had a look at a trout that I caught in the exact same spot last year, and it happened to be the exact same fish!

That this fella hasn’t allowed himself to be the victim of a murderous spin-fisherman makes me happy and a bit proud.


The picture from last year.

More will come.




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