I thought I had hit the river at the right time, I gazed rather pessimistically (it must be said) at the river – it was the colour of strong tea and up around a good foot and half – that is a lot of water coming down. The venue was the Clyde however I was starting to think that maybe I was a day too early. I walked around a half kilometre downstream – crossing a little footbridge that now looked almost submerged. I did not see anything down there either.
I tramped my way back up and sat down. I have not been down this way for an evening session in a while – most of my evening sessions have been on the Kelvin (which just goes to show you how many I have actually had this year) – so I was wanting this to be right so very much. Did I mention the cows were being especially restless – “Scuse me pretty Ladeez” I sleazed as they kicked up there heals when I got too close. Around this time of year the bulls are in the fields? I looked around for a possible suitor for the cows – there was none – it was only the ladeez I had to keep an eye on then…..I thought about cutting my losses and heading upstream, hell I thought about cutting my losses and heading home for some brownie points.
I sat and watched the water, glad I had bought a bottle of water at the service station – was that a rise? In some slack water – usually this part of the river is just a big stagnant pool however now it had a good flow going through it – it sure was a rise – and another.
It was tricky wading however I managed to cover the trout….thud thud thud and then off. Well, at least I rose it. What then followed was a series of hatches – I did not see any flies close to me to identify them, I only knew flies were around as the birds would go crazy for 10 mins. I caught lots of trout – nothing massive – the biggest maybe shy of three quarters of a pound.
I walked further up the river and covered some more rising trout – the drag was too bad or my fly was just not right as I received a couple or refusals – I walked back to my starting point – more rising trout but less water due to the Swan family.
Did I mention the smell? Oh yea, this is where all the cows come to drink, shit and piss. The river bed was made up of mud which in turn was made up of weeks of shit and piss – it fairly honked when I waded.
Still, I managed to winke another one out…
By this time my comparadun was soaked through and was refusing to float – I decided instead of tying on a new fly it was time to head home. Sure, it was only eight thirty and there was still a chance (a good chance, hell a certainty) that I was going to catch more fish however I decided a dozen nice trout is enough to satisfy any man, women, boy or girl.