A quick tramp up the hill and I encountered a total flat calm. I had considered going to the Kelvin and also hitting the salt with the beach caster however I had thought this was a good idea at the time. The sweat was dripping off my nose and I thought I was wasting my time.
I had a quick few casts and could not help but notice the occasional rising trout. I scoured through my box and found pretty much the only dry fly in their – a dry daddy. Having not only forgotten my dry fly box but also my floatant I used some chap-stick instead.
I cast over to where a trout was rising and an enormous splash……
Another couple of wee ones and then the sun started to get a bit lower in the sky. The view when i looked back was stunning…
Baboom another stonker!
This time though I had to slide down the bank and got nettle stings all down my arms. I suppose it was a decent price to pay considering there was no midges.
I started the walk down the hill and was thinking about the evening and how good a session is for the weary old soul when I heard a sinister munching sound – aha, my arch nemesis was in the field!
Heart thumping I got to the gate and was up the road at a respectable time!
Good to be out!