Well, This was a little different. Many times I have walked passed, and along the Cynon around Abercynon up as far as Fernhill. Some of the water looks pretty good, with long glides being pushed by half decent runs at the head of the pool.
Terry, Bushy and myself headed upstream of my home town to the top end of Abercynon Rugby club – Peering over the bridge, we noticed little fly life, and a very, very low river! But upon closer inspection, there where a few olive hatching, and the odd fish moving… the prospect looked promising.
I have to be honest, personally I though the fishing would be pretty good. Seeing the fish rising freely the previous day at mountain ash really whet my appetite! I really thought we was in for a surprise.
Terry started the day using the dry fly rod we had set up. Working his way through the run, it was obvious these fish where spooky! Maybe it was the fly he was using, but he couldn’t tempt any of the Cynon’s inhabitants. (Some would have said, being in the area we were fishing, if he had a Cider Sedge or maybe a Fosters F’Fly he may have picked a few up!)
I walked to the top of the run he was fishing, (Quietly!) and sat waiting for him to fish the pool out. By the time he got to the top it was obvious it wasn’t going to be easy! I took the nymphing rod, and started to fish the short run at the top. The run was perfect, a snag in the middle a slack the far side of the run and a gradual incline of depth from the near side. I knelt down, and worked my way from the near side to the far, not even seeing the indicator twitch once! What was going on?
It was interesting, I’d purchased a spool of white nylon to try as the indicator for for French nymphing. I’ve always stuck to the yellow running line braid I’ve always used because of it’s float-ability. But today I hadn’t enough weight on to sink a feather – a 2mm tungsten bead on a size 19 TMC 103bl. Hardly what you call a nymph!
Anyway – the first thing I noticed was how easy the French Leader was turning over.. Yeah, before it was going fine, but now it was fly out, hitting the marks every cast without the air resistance I felt I was having before. I liked the new indicator… not only did it float well, but it was also a lot brighter than I though. The low light must have made the uv properties bring out the white in the nylon, but it seemed to double in brightness when the sun hit it! Great!
The white crease on the surface lay in the eddy the far side of the run, it jolted forward and I was in.. The first fish on the Cynon! Not a big’un but still a beast.
Me and Terry worked our way through a likely looking pool, taking the odd fish on the French Leader and covering others with the dry. They didn’t seem to want to take any of our offerings from the surface, so we stuck to the run with the nymphs. This seemed to be the case throughout the day, by about mid-day,the majority of fish we caught where in fast water – giving us a pretty good idea of what we should be doing (unless the conditions change ovcourse).
We worked the runs, taking fish but not many. It was turning out to be a pretty hard day! It was unusual, because it really was like getting one fish out of each run… nothing in the back end… something maybe in the middle… or there was definitely something in the flow at the head. It was just a case of getting the one that was in the run.
We kept persistent, and worked the runs fishing hell of a long way upstream.. we ended up in Penrhiwceiber – about 3 miles from where we started! It’s a pretty long way following the river and negotiation your way over rocks, trolleys and cars!!
By the time we realised, Terrys lovely mrs rang to tell us it was 5pm.. It was the first time we looked at the time, and only then we started to feel hunger setting in. So we called it a day and headed to the co-op for a sandwich. £3.40 for a ham salad sandwich!