We are getting some fantastic weather up here in Scotland and its nice to have a bit of warmth for a change,rather than the cold damp and windy days we get most of the year.
But the river Clyde is very low and needs a clean out,there is a lot of weed growing in places where it used to be nice and clear,its getting that bad that fishing subsurface is near on impossible.
I fished yesterday with a team of spiders plus a nymph on the point to give my casts a bit of direction.
The nymph was just getting clogged up with weed,even the spiders had to be cleared nearly every cast.
I managed one wee brownie on the point nymph,but no takes on the spiders,so I decided to change to the dry after slogging my way down river for two hours.
Plenty of fish were rising but not for me,in fact I only managed to rise one fish to my fly in the last hour or so fishing,with no hook up.
Anyway lets hope we get some downpours soon.
The other day I went down the Clyde to test out my "new eye" after my cataract operation and so far so good, I can now see my little fly bobbing down at the far bank-great! but had a blank in the 2 hours I was there.
I did wear my shorts and plimsoles,surprisingly I didn't get bitten and it was nice and cool standing in the water but if I should decide to do it again I must sort out some suitable footwear as the plimsoles have no grip. I nearly went "ass over tit" a couple of times.
Going to give it another go tomorrow,I don't think it will be any better, but I will try.
I am missing my daughter and grandchildren,should I go back to Canada?
maybe next week?for a month? decisions-decisions.
Probably come out the pub one night,go on the comp, and book it.
I will come back in a couple of weeks when hopefully we have had some rain.
Flymanpete
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
A change in the weather-Summers here?
The weather has changed somewhat, up here in Scotland,it is now about 10 degrees warmer and the winds have died down to just a little breeze,so its down to Wolfclyde for another go at the trout.
I have changed my attire to my summer wading vest no sleeves just bare arms hoping for a bit of nice sun for a change.
Pity I couldn't wear my short ( I hate chest waders-you get too hot) but I remember last time.
I nearly got bitten to death-too many flying biting machines up here in Scotland.
Rod wise I had decided to use my 10ft #3,thinking that I would start off nymphing at long range using a klink as indicator and 2 or even maybe 3 small beaded nymphs,ptn,s and grh,s.
The water this time of the year would be low and clear so it would be best to keep my distance.
I did intend to go downstream but as I couldn't see any anglers fishing the spots by the bridge I thought I would give them a quick once over then get a move on.
Starting off upstream of a run that usually produces the odd fish I progressed down, fan casting to try and winkle out a fish.
After going down some fifty yards I was into a nice trout of about a pound but after doing its usual acrobatics it slipped the hook.
No more takes were forthcoming and I had noticed the odd fish rising so I quickly changed to a single emerger which I hoped would match the flies coming down stream ( I am still raw at fly identification. "some more read ups required" I thought)
Anyway after covering a few rises and straining to see the fly most of the time, I had nearly given up hope, when suddenly out of the blue wham!! a trout nailed the fly and after a short fight I brought a lovely wee browny to hand.
It must have been just under the pound,lovely colours,a strong fish for its size,a swish of its tail and away it went.
Well that was it no more fish,I hadn't moved very far again,next time I must go a bit further than the bridge,but nevertheless I enjoyed the little session.
Some time in the future,when I cant manage to get out fishing I can sit back and think of the days I enjoyed at Wolfclyde Bridge.
I have changed my attire to my summer wading vest no sleeves just bare arms hoping for a bit of nice sun for a change.
Pity I couldn't wear my short ( I hate chest waders-you get too hot) but I remember last time.
I nearly got bitten to death-too many flying biting machines up here in Scotland.
Rod wise I had decided to use my 10ft #3,thinking that I would start off nymphing at long range using a klink as indicator and 2 or even maybe 3 small beaded nymphs,ptn,s and grh,s.
The water this time of the year would be low and clear so it would be best to keep my distance.
I did intend to go downstream but as I couldn't see any anglers fishing the spots by the bridge I thought I would give them a quick once over then get a move on.
Starting off upstream of a run that usually produces the odd fish I progressed down, fan casting to try and winkle out a fish.
After going down some fifty yards I was into a nice trout of about a pound but after doing its usual acrobatics it slipped the hook.
No more takes were forthcoming and I had noticed the odd fish rising so I quickly changed to a single emerger which I hoped would match the flies coming down stream ( I am still raw at fly identification. "some more read ups required" I thought)
Anyway after covering a few rises and straining to see the fly most of the time, I had nearly given up hope, when suddenly out of the blue wham!! a trout nailed the fly and after a short fight I brought a lovely wee browny to hand.
It must have been just under the pound,lovely colours,a strong fish for its size,a swish of its tail and away it went.
Well that was it no more fish,I hadn't moved very far again,next time I must go a bit further than the bridge,but nevertheless I enjoyed the little session.
Some time in the future,when I cant manage to get out fishing I can sit back and think of the days I enjoyed at Wolfclyde Bridge.
Friday, May 18, 2012
Back on the Clyde for a couple of hours.
Although I hadn't fully recovered from my trip back from Canada I decided to give it a go anyway,so it was down to Wolfclyde Bridge for an hour or two.
Didn't get there till two-ish in the afternoon ,it looked like someone had crashed into the wall by the bridge as there were workman replacing some stones just at the crossroads, however I managed to park in my usual spot easily.
There were a half dozen cars parked, but on looking up and down river I couldn't see anyone.
It was a bit cold and miserable so I decided not to go very far and after tackling up I headed just down stream to the pillars to start fishing upstream towards the bridge.
I had decided to fish my 8ft #3 rod set up with the duo (a klinkhammer on a short dropper to act as an indicator and a p.t.n 3ft down on the point).
The idea was to fish a close line upstream,retrieving line back as the flies came towards me and be on the look out for the start of a hatch,making a quick change-over to the dry if fish started rising.
After about half an our fishing I took my first little brown followed straight after by an even smaller grayling.
I continued up and under the bridge stopping a while to watch a fellow angler fishing downstream towards me.
I thought that as he got to me he might stop for a chat but he turned,packed in and went to his car.
Not the talkative one I suppose.
I continued upstream from the bridge,I had now added a g.r.h dropper half way up from the point fly,as I thought that this may increase my chances of a catch,but after another couple of hours fishing I only had one other fish, which felt like a good one,after lot of splashing the hook slipped out.
I did change to the dry a couple of times to try and tempt the odd rise but nothing doing.
It wasn't a very nice day and I wasn't top of form,but at least I went out.
As I walked back I was rewarded by the sight of a magnificent osprey ( a female I would think, by its large size)coming down stream,stopping and hovering for a while over the water before continuing on its way.
"Hope it has more success than me" I thought, before chucking my gear into the car and going on my way back to Edinburgh.
Didn't get there till two-ish in the afternoon ,it looked like someone had crashed into the wall by the bridge as there were workman replacing some stones just at the crossroads, however I managed to park in my usual spot easily.
There were a half dozen cars parked, but on looking up and down river I couldn't see anyone.
It was a bit cold and miserable so I decided not to go very far and after tackling up I headed just down stream to the pillars to start fishing upstream towards the bridge.
I had decided to fish my 8ft #3 rod set up with the duo (a klinkhammer on a short dropper to act as an indicator and a p.t.n 3ft down on the point).
The idea was to fish a close line upstream,retrieving line back as the flies came towards me and be on the look out for the start of a hatch,making a quick change-over to the dry if fish started rising.
After about half an our fishing I took my first little brown followed straight after by an even smaller grayling.
I continued up and under the bridge stopping a while to watch a fellow angler fishing downstream towards me.
I thought that as he got to me he might stop for a chat but he turned,packed in and went to his car.
Not the talkative one I suppose.
I continued upstream from the bridge,I had now added a g.r.h dropper half way up from the point fly,as I thought that this may increase my chances of a catch,but after another couple of hours fishing I only had one other fish, which felt like a good one,after lot of splashing the hook slipped out.
I did change to the dry a couple of times to try and tempt the odd rise but nothing doing.
It wasn't a very nice day and I wasn't top of form,but at least I went out.
As I walked back I was rewarded by the sight of a magnificent osprey ( a female I would think, by its large size)coming down stream,stopping and hovering for a while over the water before continuing on its way.
"Hope it has more success than me" I thought, before chucking my gear into the car and going on my way back to Edinburgh.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Back from Canada with a little story
Well I'm back from my 2 weeks holiday in Canada, got a dose of the lurgy
(Ive been coughing and splurting since I got back, too many people packed into a plane and all them germs flying around its no wonder you catch something--and jet lag doesn't help either)
But I had a great time.
No river fly fishing where I was,right down South,go across the Detroit river and you are in the USA,
just big lakes filled with perch, pike walleye etc.
I was based on the banks of Lake St Clare at the mouth of Belle River an ideal place for just casting your line sitting back and relaxing in the sun waiting for things to happen.
Its not too hot this time of the year,mid twenties and with a bar just up the track from where I was fishing,nice ice cold beer-what could be better.
I bought a little rod and reel and took my 5 year old grandson fishing for the very first time and he loved it.That got me thinking about the first time I went fishing,my grandad took me-here is my little story.
I think I was still in a pushchair when my grandad first took me down to one of the many small lochs that are dotted around Edinburgh.
We would go there to feed the ducks,I'm not sure how the fishing came about,it must have been by seeing other children doing it I would think.
A bamboo cane with a net on the end and a jam jar to put the fish in, that was the usual method to catch sticklebacks.
Not for me,my grandad showed me the proper way-with a worm and fishing rod.
My set -up consisted of a short section of cane as the rod, a length of thread tied on the end for the line
On the end of the thread he would tie on a little safety pin and then impale a nice juicy worm
(no hooks needed) dangle it in the water to entice the fishies to grab hold of the end of the worm and try and quickly whip them out the water into the jam jar.
Some of the sticklebacks let go and fell back in the water but with a little bit of luck you could get a nice few swimming around in your jar.
I think I wanted to take them home to show my mum but my grandad made me put them back.
He said "they will only die if we keep them in the jam jar for too long and they are to wee to eat,so we will put them back- maybe we can catch them again next time".
That's where it all began for me.
They say that every picture tells a story-well this one certainly does
62 years after my grandad took me fishing. I introduce my grandson-his first ever fishing trip and his first ever fish. A fisher is born? I hope so.
So that's it,end of holiday for this year,back to my favourite Clyde-wonder how it is fishing?
Do you think I enjoyed myself?
(Ive been coughing and splurting since I got back, too many people packed into a plane and all them germs flying around its no wonder you catch something--and jet lag doesn't help either)
But I had a great time.
No river fly fishing where I was,right down South,go across the Detroit river and you are in the USA,
just big lakes filled with perch, pike walleye etc.
I was based on the banks of Lake St Clare at the mouth of Belle River an ideal place for just casting your line sitting back and relaxing in the sun waiting for things to happen.
Its not too hot this time of the year,mid twenties and with a bar just up the track from where I was fishing,nice ice cold beer-what could be better.
I bought a little rod and reel and took my 5 year old grandson fishing for the very first time and he loved it.That got me thinking about the first time I went fishing,my grandad took me-here is my little story.
I think I was still in a pushchair when my grandad first took me down to one of the many small lochs that are dotted around Edinburgh.
We would go there to feed the ducks,I'm not sure how the fishing came about,it must have been by seeing other children doing it I would think.
A bamboo cane with a net on the end and a jam jar to put the fish in, that was the usual method to catch sticklebacks.
Not for me,my grandad showed me the proper way-with a worm and fishing rod.
My set -up consisted of a short section of cane as the rod, a length of thread tied on the end for the line
On the end of the thread he would tie on a little safety pin and then impale a nice juicy worm
(no hooks needed) dangle it in the water to entice the fishies to grab hold of the end of the worm and try and quickly whip them out the water into the jam jar.
Some of the sticklebacks let go and fell back in the water but with a little bit of luck you could get a nice few swimming around in your jar.
I think I wanted to take them home to show my mum but my grandad made me put them back.
He said "they will only die if we keep them in the jam jar for too long and they are to wee to eat,so we will put them back- maybe we can catch them again next time".
That's where it all began for me.
They say that every picture tells a story-well this one certainly does
62 years after my grandad took me fishing. I introduce my grandson-his first ever fishing trip and his first ever fish. A fisher is born? I hope so.
So that's it,end of holiday for this year,back to my favourite Clyde-wonder how it is fishing?
Do you think I enjoyed myself?
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