Flyfishing FWSW

Saturday was a good day and as the weather predictions for Sunday where even better
than the day before I had high hopes for the fishing.
As it was fall I wondered where the mushrooms had gone, I gave the search some more
attention and spotted a few along the road.
Again the weather was perfect, bright blue skies in the morning with that crisp fall feeling.

The mill pool was again not void of anglers as I arrived.
Just as with almost every bait angler I talked to the fishing was slow.
With the pool occupied I once again directed my attention to the outflow.
The stream had dropped and clarity had improved in such a manner that I believed I could
spot fish in the running water.
This visibility improvement worked both ways though as the fish slowly moved into the deeper
section of the hole I intended to fish.
It was now a lot harder to get any fish but after trying for some time I did get my first trout.

A day before I had pulled several fish out of the same pool, now just one.
The other spots where I had caught several trout earlier seemed void of life now.
At least the dace where proving a little more cooperative today.

Sometimes you get to places were your gut feeling just say “fish”, the problem was I could not get
any so I was pondering why.
My conclusion was that I did not reached the right depth.
To overcome that problem I changed to a lighter tippet and voila within no time I had caught two
trout in a spot where I got no bites earlier.

I had intended to move further downstream but there was one obstacle in my way namely a slippery bank.
With my recent surgery I figured it would be not wise to move further so I headed back to the spot where I
had caught the dace earlier.

I took position near the bank and noticed some fish in the current.
The small nymph patterns where eagerly taken by the fish, a lot of fun seeing a fish turn and
swim after the nymph.

At the mill pool I spotted new faces, seemed that lack of action made anglers leave the spot prematurely.
I tried to fish the shallows but I just had the feeling that the otherwise present dace and roach where absent.
One meager dace was all I could produce from the pool.
All that wading was tiring and as I was wearing my el-cheapo one-layer wader I got a bit cold.
Since it was late in the afternoon already this was the moment to visit the pub and grab something to eat.
The couple at the mill invited me for coffee and cake but I told them that I first had to go for lunch.

At the pub the fire was going so I nestled myself in front of the fireplace for my afternoon break.
The fishing had been pretty good so I was not so eager to leave the comforts of the pub, eventually
though I did.

As it was late in the day I did not bother to get into my wading gear again.
The mill pool was now vacant and ideal for an experiment I was going to undertake.
I knew that some pretty big perch where living in the pool but I was never able to catch them.
So this time I had taken with me a full sinking 4-weight line and some streamers.
After a few casts the fly was intercepted by a brown trout which escaped before I could net it.

My presence was not going by unnoticed and so I was served coffee, cake and a strong one
at the waters edge – where in the world can you get that 🙂

Having hooked one trout I figured I could do it again but it turned out costly and the bottom of the
mill pool had its fair numbers of snags so flies got lost.
Still I noticed takes on the streamer which was in this case a polar minnow in perch livery.
I continued casting until I suddenly felt the long awaited tug, it was a violent take though and
I was happy that I had tied on a strong tippet.
My first thought was that I had hooked a pike but when the fish surfaced after several runs I spotted
a big brown trout.
As I was fishing barbless I did not think I would be able to land the fish but in the end I did,
personal best brown trout measuring 57cm.

After that last fish I called it a day as it could not get any better than this.
On the way back home I stopped for a break at a vantage point looking out over the fields
as the last rays of sunlight illuminated the landscape – life was good.

Another weekend and thus another visit to the stream.
I was out and about in the morning and since it had been a clear and relatively
cold night I was in no hurry to get to the water.
The sunlight was just about to burn the fog away on this crisp fall morning.
Off course I had to stop to see how the hornets where doing, the power of the sun was already
strong enough to keep them flying on and off to the hive.
It really looked like it would be a nice day, typical fall weather with a calm sky.

Again my plan was to fish the mill pool but on arrival it seemed that others had the same idea.
This time I had my wading gear with me and although it did not look pretty I managed to get myself
without assistance in my wader and wading shoes.

Pretty surprised to see a tent on the premises, turned out some of our juvenile club members had
done an all-nighter.
They had pulled out a couple of trout but where not all too excited about the results, still they
enjoyed themselves and judging by the beer bottles they would not die of thirst either.

During the week the rains had come down in force but luckily the peak flow was well
before the weekend.
A look at the stream and pool showed that although still carrying a lot water the color was
pretty decent.

With the mill pool being pounded by the worm drowners I figured I might better look for action in the
stream.
The first deep hole behind the outflow of the mill pool seemed like a good place to start.
The depth was sufficient enough to do some close quarter nymphing as the water also still
somewhat off-color.
Although the hole was small it housed a surprising number of fish.

The camping kids would leave the mill in the afternoon so I decided to fish the main stream instead
and checked out some of the deeper spots.
Fish where everywhere be it trout as the other species were probably still in flooding mode hiding somewhere.

The elderly couple who lived in mill wanted some trout for dinner so I took a few of the stocked trout for
the table.
The kids had gone but their place was quickly taken in by some seniors trying their luck.
A look at their faces gave me the impression that fishing did not go that well.
When I caught my bag limit trout in the pool on my fly outfit it got noticed.
I later heard from the mill inhabitants that somebody complained that the fly guy caught all the good fish 🙂

I took a short break and headed back into the stream.
More people where now visiting the mill just to stake out the grounds and decide if it would be
worth to purchase the special ticket required to fish there.
Under the watchful eye of some of my fellow clubmembers I fishing the hole behind the outflow again
and it still yielded some fish using short nymph tactics.

It got a little too crowded for me at the pool so I retreated back into the stream where I
finally encountered some of the other fish species I was looking for.

In the afternoon I felt the need for a good lunch so I got out of my wading gear and headed
straight for the pub where I had all the time of the world to get something to eat and drink.
Fishing had been pretty good and maybe it was time to call it a day, still I pushed on.
Maybe the evening would see some surface action and it would surely be nice to catch a fish on the
dry fly so late in the season.

Some of the dace where rising but difficult to reach by fishing from the shore.
The wind had picked up during the day and as the leaves where falling the surface of the mill pool
was not exactly a great spot to drop a dry fly.
A change to a small nymph yielded one fish but action was very slow.
The sun was about to set and as it was the end of September the temperature dropped pretty quick in
the last daylight hours.
With the bats on the wing it was time to call it a day, a beautiful day.

A day earlier I attended the annual gathering of our fishingclub at the mill pool.
On that day I secured fishing permits for the mill pool for every upcoming weekend so
the next day I was again on my way to Germany.
In the local village they had yet another harvest celebration so my competition would
probably be drunk in the village instead of fishing at the mill.

On the way to the pool I noticed this birdhouse with what I believed was a wasps nets but when
I stopped to take a look it turned out that the inhabitants where hornets.
From a safe distance I took some pictures and left them in peace.

The weather looked really nice with the blue sky, the temperature though was a bit on the low
side and it was a little windy.
As I crossed a bridge over the stream I noticed that one of the bankside trees had fallen down
creating a deep pool, this would be a spot to remember for the future.

When I came at the watermill I spotted two cars on the parking lot and figured that not everybody
was going to the harvest festivities.
I spoke to the elderly couple living in the mill and it turned out the cars belonged to the people who
attended our party from the day before – those people had to many beers and went home by other
means of transportation.

What was a nasty surprise was the color of the water.
Even though it had not rained the water was even more colored than a day before and I wondered
how that was possible.

My wading gear was still drying at home as I figured the decline in the water level would result
in cleaner water making it easier for me to just fish from the shore.
In the meantime clouds and wind increased and as expected activity in the water was minimal.
A few fish where rising over the sandbar at the end of the pool but out of reach for me
as the current would cause my line to drag within seconds if I tried to reach that spot.

I instead tried the bank at the outflow of the pool and although I had some subtle bites I could
not catch any fish.
I tried for several hours without success and figured it was time for a break at the local pub.
After a good meal I tried one of my more successful spots at the stream.
This was a shallow pool with one small deep riffle were I usually would catch something
despite how bad the conditions would be.
Not this time though and so I headed back to the mill pool to give it another go.

At the mill pool I spotted a fellow club member who was fishing with his wife.
They used worms and lures as bait and had not had much luck as yet.
The trout where not as eager as usual and complained that the fish only nibbled
at the worms.

As the day progressed more people came by visiting the pool to ponder if it was worth to go
fishing.
I finally caught a roach so my day would at least not end fishless.

Talking to people and fishing at the same time caused me to miss quite a few solid takes
but I guess that is fishing.
It was funny though that many of the visitors where sort of impressed by us flyfisherman
as we outfished them the day before.
When I showed the tiny nymph I was fishing they could not believe that you could catch
trout let alone any other fish species with such minimal gear.

At one point I hooked a brook trout but it managed to throw the barbless hook so no trout
for me today.
The second and last fish I caught was a nice dace that was feeding over the sandbar
at the end of the mill pool.

When I left the mill it was already getting dark.
The results were pretty meager but it was great to finally be fishing again.

My last fishing venue was at the end of March and from then on it all went peer-shaped.
Having experienced pain in my left leg / hip for a long time the doctors finally judged that
something had to be done.
It turned out I had to undergo surgery for a full hip replacement even though I was too young
for such a procedure. Off course I asked for alternatives but there were none.
The surgery practically ended my fishing season and even though the procedure was a success
part of a muscle had to be severed so my rehabilitation would take even more time than usual.

The physiotherapy went quite well and after nearly three months I was deemed safe to get
on a bike again.
It would still take a lot of time to get some sort of my former mobility back but at least there
was improvement.

The end of the summer always meant one thing, a festive gathering of my German fishingclub
members and fishing in the otherwise off-limits mill pool.
As every fisherman knows those waters that are off limits have extra attraction.
So I decided to give fishing a try with the help of my buddy who would help me get in my
waders and make sure that the mill pool would not turn out to be my last resting place.

As I looked forward for this venue the whole week I was concerned about the rainy weather
in the week before the event.
The local stream turned to a turbid coffee colored mess in an instant so my fears where
that flyfishing would not be possible.
The peak flow occurred just one day before the event and my fears came true on the morning
of the event when I looked at the mill pool.

The highlight for me for of this event was fishing the mill pool, well stocked with trout and also
home to a myriad of other fish in good sizes.
While the other club members went fishing on the stream as per protocol I stayed behind due
to my condition and scoped out the mill pool.
Despite the turbid water I spotted a rising fish and when I walked towards the outflow of the
pool I noticed at least some sort of clarity in the shallows that raised my hopes of catching anything.

After a couple of hours the club members gathered again at the watermill where breakfast
was served in the garage of the mill’s resident, yes a big garage 🙂
Just like every year some of the guys already positioned their gear near the mill’s weir as
it was the deepest part of the pool and usually frequented by the most trout.
My buddy and I where the only flyfishermen and by the grace of god they let us fish the
least attractive part of the mill pool, the shallow end.

Not that it was a problem for us because the rear shore was covered by thick brush so
no conventional angler could fish there.
The usual modus operandi would be that the anglers at the weir would catch their 5 trout limit pretty
quickly and would head out to the garage for drinks and snacks.
In the mean time we could advance further to the good spots.
Well, not this time … the wormdrowners just did not catch the fish like usually.

I was hoping for any fish and soon I caught a nice Dace to my surprise.
So the fish where after all able to see my little size 14 gold bead nymph in the murky water.
As the trout where usually not that large in the mill pool I decided to use my new 2nd hand
Orvis 2-weight rod.
A fluorocarbon tippet of 14/100 mill (5 a 6X) was used to get the nymph quickly down to depth.
It was not long before I caught my first brown trout, as per regulation I had to knock it on
the head but the fish was too slippery and got away.
Soon I was into brown trout number two and that one received immediate head trauma.
The elderly couple living in the mill who every year graciously allowed us on their premises
requested fish and I was happy to oblige.

I got a bit carried away after landing three more rainbows I was soon at my limit
while the rest of the folks where not really catching fish.
This was after all a sort of contest where the guy who caught the most fish would
be crowned fisher king.
It would cost you several cases of beer, you would get that Mayor like neckless around
your head and would have to be present at the start of every venue of the club pouring in a
strong one.

My last fish turned out to be a little larger than expected, it was a massive brown trout
and put my setup to the test.
I was not expecting to land the fish but in the end I did and as every eye was on me
I could not slip that fish back so now I had a net full of trout.
As I made it up to shore one of German friends weighed the fish and mentioned that
I would be fisher king for sure … sheer terror…

As there was still time left to fish I decided to wade back in the pool and help my buddy as he
was not doing so well.
With some pointers and a move he also started to catch fish.
I told him however to slip back any fish after he had caught three trout.
At the end of the venue I would sneak some of my trout in his bag.
The last hour went by pretty uneventful as the fishing had tapered off considerably.
I still managed to catch two brook trout so my fishing day was pretty perfect.

At the weigh in my buddy became fourth while I luckily got stuck as number three.
The deception did not work a 100 percent though as one my friends called me
the secret fisher king 🙂

So this first day’s of fishing after my “break” was quite succsesfull.
The otherwise off limits mill pool would be open for members of the club the
next day untill the end of trout season with as only condition that a special
day permit had to be bought.
I figured with me being not able to fish for such a long time I had to take this
chance so I asked the club’s president to arrange permits for me for every
weekend the mill pool would be open.
The trout would be cleared out pretty quickly but the ease of access and the
other fish in the pool would be ideal for me to at least have some fishing season.

The afternoon was spend barbecueing and as it was common practice on
such events no one had to be thirsty.
I sneaked away to the the nearby pub where I had not been in ages just
to show that I was still alive.