Return to Pantyscallog - 20th August 2011

After what seemed like an eternity waiting for my next opportunity to fish my favourite river, I finally found myself packing the rods into the car and making the familiar trip along the A40 to Brecon Beacons. This time I was accompanied by my fishing pal Pete who had carefully negotiated his "day pass" to coincide with mine. The conversation in the car was animated, flitting between work, holidays and the state-of-the-nation. But inevitably we were soon talking "trout" - what condition would the river be in, what would the best tactics be; and so on.

On arrival at Pantyscallog it was immediately obvious we were in for a tricky session. The river Usk was very low and gin-clear with very little in the way of hatches or rising fish. This would be a day for ultra stealth tactics - keep a low profile, make delicate casts and stalk fish with utmost care.

Pete stalks nervy trout in a glide under the falls - an idyllic spot

Sure enough it took a while for things to start happening. After fruitless searches of the riffles with a duo rig, I finally spotted signs of feeding activity on a smooth glide. Several caddis species were starting to appear, along with some very small upwings, stoneflies and brook duns. A good fish was spotted within casting distance after inching my way up the glide. In went a delicate cast and within seconds the CDC & Elk was engulfed in a boiling rise. A fish was well and truly connected and a manic fight ensued with my 3WT bent almost double. The result was a fantastic wild brownie netted weighing in at just under 1 1/2 lb.

A rod-bending heavyweight prised from the water using ultra-stealth!

Another 1/2 lb fish was netted 30 minutes later on the CDC & Elk, just as Pete called by suggesting it was time for lunch - good timing Pete!

The colour and marking variations of Usk trout always amaze me - this one was almost blue!

We continued to toil after lunch. Pete had been experimenting with various patterns and was finally rewarded after lengthening his leader and netting two nervy fish on a Parachute Adams. A further three fish made their way to my net in a post-lunch purple patch. As we headed toward tea time the rises stopped and the fly life seemed to have packed up and gone for the day. But with both of us having caught in such difficult conditions, I felt we had been sufficiently rewarded. Needless to say the conversation all the way back home was predominated by plans for the next trip!

A beat with a view - a glorious way to end the day

Pantyscallog Beat - River Crai, 2nd July 2011

A pleasing session on a very technical beat is how I'd describe this visit. The Pantyscallog beat is found at the confluence of the rivers Usk and Crai, in a very secluded setting. And it was the Crai that I'd really come here to fish, although I did have a wander down the Usk main stem just to size it up for future visits. The Crai is a classic small stream fly fishing venue and there was plenty to challenge my skills during the session. At Pantyscallog there is approximately 1 mile of fishing on the Crai (in addition to 1 mile of Usk fishing) which was more than enough for me.

Lower River Crai - looking upstream

Once again, the wild trout here are immaculate and in good fighting fettle. Although not large they gave a very good account of themselves when caught on light tackle. At the business end it was a CDC & Elk Hair caddis that brought the fish up, even in places where there were no visible rises which justly explains the opportunism of trout. Immediate reactions were required for the lightening quick rises. I must have been feeling tired because I missed loads and a few fish dropped off, but six wild brownies to the net was good going for an afternoon and evening session. Wandering back through the fields under a vivid sunset topped off a good day - I shall return!

Falls on the Upper Usk, just below the Crai - a real beauty spot

Red spotted treasure from the Crai

Pause for reflection on my way back - how lucky am I?!!

Return to Fenni Fach - River Usk, 11th June 2011

I've had precious little time for fly fishing since starting my new job earlier this month, but I did manage to grab an afternoon a couple of weeks ago at a familiar beat. This return to Fenni Fach on the Usk proved to be very successful, although the squally showers did their best to put me off. Thirteen fish were netted during an afternoon of non-stop action, with fish rising even during the heaviest of the downpours. X-caddis, Copper John and LT Klinkhamer Special all proved to be fish-takers and the trout were fighting fit. One fish in particular was very memorable, which rose to the LT Klink and was nudging 2lb according to my scales. As indicated below, it had a tail like a shovel and took some careful coaxing to get the beast into the net. A highly satisfying day and well worth the visit!

A pristine Fenni Fach brownie succumbs to an X-Caddis

Fin-perfect. The shovel-tailed 2-pounder

The spots on this fish were as vivid a I've seen on an Usk trout

My first small stream venture - Lower Stanton Beat, Honddhu - 27th May 2011

'R39' will live long in the memory, for lots of good reasons. It was on 'R39' that today I achieved a long-held ambition to fish a truly wild small water. I've been building up to this for a little while now as this is probably the most technically difficult aspect of fly-fishing. Today's challenges comprised a potent mixture of low water, wind, overhanging trees, nettles, spooky fish, cow-dung and a barely-used new rod to get used to. But in the face of all these challenges, 'R39' yielded 11 of the most beautiful wild trout anyone could hope to catch; including two 12inch specimens which really topped a great day.

Ok, ok....so I got a little help. Well quite a bit actually. In a bid to accelerate my understanding of how to approach small streams, I asked Gareth Lewis to guide me through the day. Small stream fly fishing is Gareth's sweet-spot and I have to say I have benefited immensely from his careful tuition. He covered everything including set-up, fly selection, stealth tactics, casting options and reading the water. There was continued advice on ironing out casting difficulties and plenty of animated conversation about the art of small stream fishing. Put simply, I couldn't have chosen a better guide.

It was Gareth's recommendation to go to 'R39', which is the Lower Stanton beat of the Honddu. This is a Wye tributary that meanders through the meadows of the Honddu Valley. Here there are enough riffles, flat glides and deep pools on the beat to fill an entire day of fishing.

Using stealth tactics I get into position....

...while Gareth points out the local fly life

Fishing got underway in the morning which was still chilly and fresh from the night. This made for a slow start although a couple of early fish were hooked but dropped off. The fly activity was very sparse at this stage, but things started to pick up as lunchtime approached. Very gradually the hatches got underway as conditions warmed up. Thanks to Gareth, my casting was steadily improving as I got used to the new 3 WT rod. Two fish in quick succession to an X-Caddis was a good sign that things were beginning to gel.

The first fish to be successfully netted

Small but perfectly formed 

Some bemused onlookers

The highlight of the day came after lunch. A couple more fish had been netted when Gareth spotted some interesting rises in a feeding lane under over-hanging trees. We both observed emerging Mayfly (Ephemera sp.) being taken, so I was a little surprised when Gareth tied on a Mayfly spinner and prompted me to cast at the rising fish. The fly was huge and I had difficulty casting it to the right spot. Another more aerodynamic fly was substituted - but it was still a large spinner pattern. Shouldn't we be trying an emerger or dun?!! This time however I was able to deliver the fly to the right spot, just upstream of where we thought the fish was holding. The fly drifted a short while and then the rise came. It was immediately apparent I was connected to a good sized fish; and strong too. This was what I came for - light tackle and fit fighting trout. I blurted out "I'm not stopping for a photo....". Back came the call from Gareth "Give it some line if it wants to go..." . Can you guess who was in a more rational state-of-mind at this point? It certainly wasn't me! But I had been squatting in cow dung and had acquired nettle stings in my bid to catch this fish! The chaotic scrap ended with a 12 inch beauty in the net - and a very knowing smile right across Gareth's face.

Trout lunch. Gareth and I had scampi

With a 12 inch scrapper netted, I finally stop for a photo

Another nice fish prised from very low flat water in the evening

Finally , special thanks to Gareth for allowing me to use his photos in this article; and to 'R39' for yielding some of her secrets.

River Frome - May 2011

During my week off work I decided to focus on my next piece about the River Frome. This is the second installment about my local river and one tinged with sadness and concern.

For this piece I had hoped to capture some of the delights of the upper reaches of this little trout river. I took a walk through Siccaridge Wood near Sapperton, where the path of the Frome winds its way through the beautiful Costwold countryside, woodlands and meadows on its way to Stroud. At this time of year I've previously observed May Flies (Ephemera sp.) and Kingfishers, both of which are good indicators of a healthy river environment.

This time however, there was no river. All that was visible was simply the bare bones of the river bed like some fossilized relic hinting at a previous existence. Consequently, no Mayfly observed; no trout observed; and no kingfishers observed. An entire ecosystem has disappeared.

Dried up gravel bed with land-based plants beginning to colonize

Gloucestershire is a notoriously wet county but we've had a few significantly dry winters in recent years and I suspect this is the primary reason for the absence of flowing water in this stretch of the Frome. The river is spring-fed from sources further north, up as far as Birdlip. The natural springs in the hills where I live are bone dry at present and this is probably the case with the source springs of the Frome. I have heard some worrying stories of farmers routing spring water in a bid to avoid the cost of water being supplied by water companies. If that were true it would have a marked deleterious effect in the present circumstances, but would be relatively unnoticed in 'normal' conditions.

This stretch should be at least knee-deep. Wouldn't you just love to fish it?

If conditions do return to more typical cycles of mild, wet winters then there's every chance this stretch of the Frome will recover. Nature is always quick to re-colonize, often in spectacular style, but it will take a couple of seasons once the flows do return. For now, let's hope the lower reaches of the Frome, where aquatic wildlife currently thrives, does not fall victim to the diminishing water table.