Paul and I took advantage of taking a days fishing on the river today, not knowing where to go first off we stopped for breakfast to discuss where to go. We took the last sip of our tea’s and decided to head to the Taff just above Pontypridd.
We sat on the bank, and discussed fly patters, techniques and likely areas, the obvious – where they where rising. There was a good hatch of Iron Blues as we arrived, with fish taking advantage of the easy meals. I decided to tackle up my dry fly rod, trying out the new 15ft tapered leaders which arrived a few days ago. One dry fly was looking at me each time I opened my box, so on it went, leader mudded and fly ginked. First few casts over one of the risers, she sipped the olive down and ended up in the net. A handsome, graceful Grayling. Quote – Paul Young & Rebecca Davies.
The grey clouds pushed in, and the rain descended, killing the fly hatch instantly, although the fish kept rising on what was left. Making a few cast over the next few risers I had lined up I was expecting to catch ’em. After missing one, and covering the rest, I blamed the rain for putting them down, not the wayward cast I made >.<
I changed reels, putting the dry fly back into it pouch and taking out the French leadering reel. A quick setup change and a look through the emptying nymph box (making room for some new appetisers) I found i likely looking fly.
I waded out of the slow pool I’d stared in, and took a stroll upstream.
The small stream which leads in just under the bridge in the centre of the picture above, was coming in cloudy due to the run off from the road. I walked through the slow water below this tree and into the eddy that had been formed. Peering into the water, I could see my next culprit.
I pitched a cast just above the fish, and it looked as if the nymph came down perfect, the fish turned and darted after the fly but before it registered, I pulled out and recast. To my luck, the fish turned and settled back onto its original position, so another cast in the same place the fish rose in the water, and took the fly perfect, almost as perfect as itself.
Above where this fish was lying, I spotted another rise. I worked my way into a better position kneeling down and launching the flies roughly into the area where it rose. The leader stopped, and I was in again.
Shortly after releasing this fish, the unfortunate happened! I broke my beloved dry fly rod.
One thought on “A few hours on the river”
Absolute quality – top drawer!