With the end of the trout season fast approaching we anglers rush to the rivers, streams and lakes like crack-addicts rushing shuffling to the nearest drug-rehabilitation clinic for their weekly allowance of Methadone. As it was also the Boss’ birthday a week of annual leave was booked and the relaxation/party begun…with a few fishing trips squeezed in for good measure I might add.

For some time now I’ve been of the opinion that my fishing life is too rudely interrupted by that of my working life. Instead of sitting in front of damned computer monitors all day long I could be stood in a river casting to a rising fish all the while being gently cooled by a light breeze instead of a hell-spawned rickety old office fan.

Instead of hearing the sounds of gently chattering waters I’m assaulted greeted with the wonderful sound of multiple server fans, whirring loudly in their non-climate-controlled server cabinets at the height of summer; instead of hearing the bird’s summer song I’m kicked (quite literally) in the nuts by whining IT support calls querying as to why, for example, they’re unable to turn their monitors on. At the risk of sounding totally honest sarcastic, it could be something to do with the unauthorised convector heater you’ve plugged into the socket where your monitor’s power cable plug used to be; and yes, I said convector heater, and yes, I know it’s the height of summer; such are the levels of stupidity I am duty bound to endure.

Such levels of annoyance are reduced by said annual leave and it was a fine week away from work responsibilities with much fun, beer and the even saw the odd fish oblige; I was lucky enough to be able to fit in a little more exploration on the new stream (Stream ‘B’) and also a nice short trip away for my better half’s birthday.

Sunday 22nd August: Further Exploration of Stream ‘B’

The stream of skulls…

Mark’s first fish of the day, a stonking 12″ wild brown trout

Finally, levels are up after a decent amount of rain and everything is refreshed at long last

Beauty with spots

Mark fishing ‘The Tunnel Pool’…

…and our slightly nervous journey through it…

…five minutes later (and after a lengthly discussion on how to get above the rapids) we’re safely out the other side

Nature abounds

Another ‘never been hooked before’ beauty for Mark

High waters

Yours truly beginning a cast

Hidden beauty

Sunday 24th August: Exploration Done, It’s Time for Relaxation With Stream ‘B’

The hike down to the stream and, this time, via one of the valley’s gentler slopes

White-tipped perfection

Spooky fish hold in the smooth, gentle glides…

…and only the most delicate of patterns will do, a Blue Winged Olive Reverse Parachute Emerger…

…the result: six wild brown trout.

Sparkling riffles and glorious glides abound…

…and hold similarly glorious trout.

Klinkhamers and greedy trout

Sunday 25th/26th August: Tenby

What British summer on the beach looks like…

The rain lifts…time for the pub…

Restaurants, shops and pubs hide well down the narrow alleys of Tenby harbor…

Couldn’t help it…FFISW.COM

Cliff-top vantage point

A windy morning but the gulls seem unaffected

Sunday 27th August: Return To The Home Stream

My glorious glorious home stream and where my thoughts are constantly fixed…

Autumn Dun (Ecdyonurus dispar)

One of the many obliging fish of the day, this one violently rose to a Klinkhamer

Riffley perfection

BWO RPE…

…and a trout that wanted to eat it

Fly fishing isn’t a hobby and it definitely isn’t a sport. Fly fishing is a lifestyle, a way of thinking and, as such, it can take us to the most jaw-dropping and inspiring of environments.

The mind of a small-stream fly fisherman is a strange thing; content with the prospect of catching 8″ fish all day long and easily able to shrug off such passing comments as “there’s no fish in there mate” or “they’re bloody tiny” without so much of a thought or reaction. The fish we search for and the waters we seek are, more often than not, found in the most remote/secluded areas, far from people and those who would be content to abuse/degrade them (intentionally or not).

The fish, granted, are highly opportunistic but the skill in catching these small wily fish comes with stealth and a gentle presentation. A heavy foot fall, a little water disturbance or just standing up at the wrong moment is all these fish need as an excuse to dart away; the feeding in a pool/run/riffle put on hold for the immediate future.

More exploration of Stream: B was called for yesterday evening and, after a short journey from work (the commuting traffic thinning as I made my way ever north), Chris, Mark and I were preparing ourselves for the 100′+ decent down a steep valley and a hike down into the gorge below. Although we’re still in dire need of some rain here in South Wales – and, as such, the water levels are depressingly low – the evening’s weather was pleasant and us three anglers progressed happily up this small waterway.

An evening spent exploring a newly discovered small stream is something rather special and, like the boys of our youth, the excitement slapped across each of our faces at the site of every new pool or riffley run found around every corner of the stream was displayed shamelessly. It was only the encroaching darkness which forced us to begin the steep hike back to the top of the valley.

Round #2 of The Exploration of Stream: B is complete and another 2K or so covered, but there is still much, much more to see…

The small stream’s protective steep valley sides and, 100′+ below, is the jewel herself

A wild jewel, and one which has never seen a hook before

Under deep cover, Chris makes a cast…

…a bent rod: the result of a careful approach…

…the gentle landing…

…and the fish itself

Mark keeping a low profile

Darkness approaches…

…and a last cast as darkness settles in

During the last 1008 hours (that’s exactly 6 weeks to you and I) I’ve spent approximately four of them fishing…that equates to a 0.396% fishing:life ratio. Whichever way you look at it, and as a trout fisherman, that ain’t good my son.

My extra-curricular life of late is either spent attending casting workshops/clinics, GAIA mentoring groups or GAIA events at various Country fairs (CLA Game Fair, Herefordshire Country Fair and this weekend’s North Wales Country Fair), but the majority of my time has seen me stood in various fields waving a rod about, attempting to cast a piece of wool within 18″ of cones placed at 20′, 20′ and 45′; implementing in-the-air mends at pre-specified sections of the line; single and double speys, rolls, jump-rolls, and on and on we go.

As some of the kind and knowledgeable inhabitants living in the immediate locality of the aforementioned fields have very helpfully and kindly pointed out, there are indeed no fish in the field, and yes, they’ve also pointed out that the water levels are very low at the moment. Still, they wish me the very best in my endeavors all the same. Looks of amusement and joy beaming from ear to ear as they convey this knowledge from across the field. I laugh heartily.

Tomorrow evening, however, I’ll be putting my practice to the test with a little exploration of a new ‘never-ever-ever-to-be-named’ small stream which I’ve just recently been granted the right to fish as per membership to a new club.

The stream lies at the bottom of a steep gorge, and a fairly good hike is needed to access the water…much of the hike is spent sliding down the valley sides. Still, such places are known for their seclusion and lack of others, which is fine by me.

A full report will follow, however, a few images taken at the bottom of a darkened valley during our first reconnaissance mission are shown below…

Friday saw thirty individuals gather for a little evasive fauna removal work on a tributary of the River Monnow; attendees to the day were a mix of Monnow Fisheries Association, Keep Wales Tidy, Brecon Beacons National Park, Environment Agency and, of course, us anglers. The focal point of the day was to pull as much Himalayan Balsam as possible.

Each party, covering more than a few miles each, was able to pull a large amount of Himalayan Balsam, but further work will probably be needed next year as well. It’s a long term project but the MFA have seen considerable positive affects from these pulling days and are true leaders in this cause.

As well as a cracking buffet lunch, the MFA were kind enough to organise a little fishing for all anglers present, and it was happily received. Tiredly, we ventured out for a few hours on unfished and beautiful Honddu waters.

Tiresome work, but for a great cause.

Ever wondered what Himlayan Balsalm looks like with it’s ass kicked?

A wild Honddu jewel.

An Explosive Rise

Evening Settles

It’s a trifle cliché to label a trout stream or your beloved water as ‘a piece of heaven’, though I can understand why such a declaration is happily branded across nearly all of the UK’s inland waters by someone or other. These special places might be considered as such thanks to either their beautiful surroundings, the fact that we may have spent our childhoods fishing there; they may have helped to improve our skills, offer the angler complete seclusion or may just be down to the fact that we simply catch more fish there. For whatever the reason, an angler will have their most favourite water and, sometimes, there is born their most guarded and greatest secret.

No names, no tips, no mention, and the thought of placing a red circle on a map would be cause for serious discussion regarding your future between your fishing peers.