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OUR WILD BROWN RIVER – THE ADVENTURE CONTINUESOn one of the first decent days of spring, Terry Lawton took the p lunge to wet a line on our three mile stretch of mid-Norfolk stream. Water temperatures were low. A south-westerly wind soon swung round to the east. Once or twice, there was just a smattering of sleet in the air. Fly life was nil. The trout just could not be spotted – apart form a six incher looking frozen on a bed of gravel. The real test, obviously, was to find fish. Is the stretch as prolific as we’re hoping? Without a doubt, on days like this, you’ve got to concentrate in the deeper water. Although the very occasional fish showed on the surface, a deep-fished nymph was obviously the way to go. Terry favours weighted Pheasant Tails in these sorts of conditions and flicking them into the very deepest of holes produced a surprising number of takes. In all, during the course of the afternoon, some six or seven fin-perfect browns were picked up. Nothing amazingly large…you wouldn’t expect that but one fish that broke free felt like it might have made a pound. And that’s a monster of a wild fish on a stream like this. The general conclusion is that even a limited buzz of activity on such a day indicates there’s a good head of wild fish present. It’s going to be fascinating as the water warms and the fly life begins to emerge. The mayfly is only six or seven weeks away perhaps and we’re expecting that to transform this delightful river. But perhaps that’s the key. Whilst fishing streams like this is one of the highest art forms in the fly fishing world, there’s so much more to see and enjoy than the fishing alone. Otter tracks here and there. Perhaps they’re not too bad a thing, these Tarkas. The mink, certainly, have disappeared and in their absence, there were signs almost everywhere of the reappearing water vole. Woodpeckers everywhere in the far bank forest. Kingfishers. A glimpse of a sparrow hawk darting beneath the bridge. A plethora of toads. Carpets of wildflowers poking through. If you rein in your expectations on a stream like this, you’ll reap so many rewards. Don’t expect manicured bankside paths. Don’t be looking for lunker rainbows or browns recently introduced. Don’t expect that you won’t be hung up every ten minutes or so. Know that you’ll probably lose more flies in an afternoon on a stream like this than you will in a season on a reservoir. Expect nettle stings and scratches from brambles. Know that you’re going to spend forty-five minutes stalking a rising fish and it will ‘only’ weigh seven ounces. But it will be the most magnificently beautiful brown in the world to you. Though small, it will represent a challenge a hundred times bigger than its weight. If you’re happy to laugh hysterically and triumphantly at a trout not hugely bigger than a gudgeon, this will prove exactly the type of day for you.
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